slipped away; while the leech was waiting
for the old man to speak, Horapollo waited for Philippus. However, the
impatience and curiosity of the elder were stronger than the young man's
craving for comfort; he suddenly laid down the roll of manuscript,
impatiently snatched up the ivory stick which he had thrown aside, set
his heavy seat at an angle with a shove of amazing vigor for his age,
turned full on Philippus, and asked him, in a loud voice, pointing his
ruler at him as if threatening him with it:

"So the play is out. A tragedy, of course!"

"Hardly, since I am still alive," replied the other.

"But there is inward bleeding, and the wound is painful," retorted the
old man. Then, after a short pause, he went on: "Those who will not
listen must feel! The fox was warned of the trap, but the bait was too
tempting! Yesterday there would still have been time to pull his foot out
of the spring, if only he had sincerely desired it; he knew the hunter's
guile. Now the foe is down on the victim; he has not spared his weapons,
and there lies the prey dumb with pain and ignominy, cursing his own
folly.--You seem inclined for silence this evening. Shall I tell you just
how it all came about?"

"I know only too well," said Philippus.

"While I, to be sure, can only imagine it!" growled the old man. "So long
as that patrician hussy needed the poor beast of burthen she could pet it
and throw barley and dates to it. Now she is rolling in gold and living
under a sheltering roof, and hey presto, the discarded protector is sent
to the right about in no time. This mistress of the hearts of our weak
and bondage-loving sex raises this rich Adonis to fill the place of the
hapless, overgrown leech, just as the sky lets the sun rise when the pale
moon sinks behind the hills. If that is not the fact give me the lie!"

"I only wish I could," sighed Philippus. "You have seen rightly,
wonderfully rightly--and yet, as wrongly as possible."

"Dark indeed!" said the old man quietly. "But I can see even in the dark.
The facts are certain, though you are still so blinded as not to see
their first cause. However, I am satisfied to know that your delusion has
come to so abrupt, and in my opinion so happy, an end. To its cause--a
woman, as usual--I am perfectly indifferent. Why should I needlessly
ascribe to her any worse sin than she had committed? If only for your
sake I will avoid doing so, for an honorable soul clings to those whom it
see