who played all sorts of games with them, and in spite of the bandaged
eyes, over which spread a broad shade of green leaves, could make
whistles with his skilful artist hands from the reeds and willow branches
they brought.

He saw before him the object to which his heart still clung as distinctly
as if he need only stretch out his hand to draw it nearer, and perhaps--
surely and certainly, the Amalekite said--the time would come when he
would behold it also with his bodily eyes.

If the longing should be fulfilled! If his eyes were again permitted to
convey to him what formerly filled his soul with delight! Yes, beauty--
was entitled to a higher place than truth, and if it again unfolded
itself to his gaze, how gladly and gratefully he would pay homage to it
with his art!

The hope that he might enjoy it once more now grew stronger, for the
glimmer of light became brighter, and one day, when his skilful nurse
again took the bandage from his milk-white pupils, he saw something long
appear, as if through, a mist. It was only the thorny acacia tree at his
tent; but the sight of the most beautiful of beautiful things never
filled him with more joyful gratitude.

Then he ordered the less valuable of his two rings to be sold to offer a
sacrifice to health-bestowing Isis, who had a little temple in Clysma.

How fervently he now prayed also to the great Apollo, the foe of darkness
and the lord of everything light and pure! How yearningly he besought
Aphrodite to bless him again with the enjoyment of eternal beauty, and
Eros to heal the wound which his arrow had inflicted upon his heart and