ow he yielded to her wish that he should repeat
the captivating tale to the others, and the spirits of the wine helped
him to perform the task with such animation that his hearers listened to
his description in breathless suspense, and many eyes rested on the
handsome face of the great blind artist as if spellbound.

When he paused, loud applause rewarded him, and as it reached him from
every part of the spacious room, his deep, resonant voice put him in
communication even with the more distant guests, and he might have been
taken for the symposiarch or director of the banquet.

This conspicuous position of the feted artist did not please every one,
and a rhetorician, famed for his sharp tongue, whispered to his
neighbour, one of Hermon's older fellow-artists, "What his eyes have lost
seems to benefit his tongue." The sculptor answered: "At any rate, the
impetuous young artist might succeed better in proving himself, by its
assistance, a good entertainer, than in creating more mediocre
masterpieces like the Demeter."

Similar remarks were made on other cushions; but when the philosopher
Hegesias asked the famous sculptor Euphranor what he thought of Hermon's
Demeter, the kindly old man answered, "I should laud this noble work as a
memorable event, even if it did not mark the end, as well as the
beginning, of its highly gifted creator's new career."

Nothing of this kind was uttered near Hermon. Everything that reached him
expressed delight, admiration, sympathy, and hope. At dessert the
beautiful Glycera divided her apple, whispering as she gave him one half,
"Let the fruit tell you what the eyes can no longer reveal, you poor and
yet so abundantly rich darling of the gods."

He murmured in reply that his happiness would awake the envy of the
immortals if, in addition, he were permitted to feast upon the sight of
her beauty.

Had he been able to see himself, Hermon, who, as a genuine Greek, was
accustomed to moderate his feelings in intercourse with others, would
have endeavoured to express the emotions of joy which filled his heart
with more reserve, and to excel his companions at the festival less
recklessly.

His enthusiastic delight carried many away with him; others, especially
Daphne, were filled with anxious forebodings by his conduct, and others
still with grave displeasure.

Among the latter was the famous leech Erasistratus, who shared Archias's
cushions, and had been solicited by the latter to try to