under ban? Does that oppress thee?" He reproved her with a pat on the
nearest hand.

"The king toils; the priests toil; the powers of the world labor. None
but the beautiful idle may be idle, and that for their beauty's sake.
Nay, it is not that I may not work, but I may not work as I wish and I
am heart-sick therefore."

His last words ended in a tone of genuine dejection. His eyes were
fixed on the grass of the nook and his brows had knitted slightly. The
expression was a rare one for his face and in its way becoming--for the
moment at least. The hand he had patted drew nearer, and at last,
after a little hesitancy, was laid on his black hair. He lifted his
face and took cheer, from the light in her eyes, to proceed.

"Since I may speak," he began, "I shall. Ta-meri, thou knowest that as
a sculptor I work within limits. The stature of mine art must crouch
under the bounds of the ritual. It is not boasting if I say that I
see, with brave eyes, that Egypt insults herself when she creates
horrors in stone and says, 'This is my idea of art.' And these things
are not human; neither are they beasts--they are grotesques that verge
so near upon a semblance of living things as to be piteous. They
thwart the purpose of sculpture. Why do we carve at all, if not to
show how we appear to the world or the world appears to us? Now for my
rebellion. I would carve as we are made; as we dispose ourselves; aye,
I would display a man's soul in his face and write his history on his
brow. I would people Egypt with a host of beauty, grace and
naturalness--"

"Just as if they were alive?" Ta-meri inquired with interest.