ld woman's taunts
Rapture and anguish--who can lay down the border line
Reason is a feeble weapon in contending with a woman
To her it was not a belief but a certainty
Trifling incident gains importance when undue emphasis is laid
Very hard to imagine nothingness
Whether man were the best or the worst of created beings
Words that sounded kindly, but with a cold, unloving heart

ARACHNE

By Georg Ebers

Volume 1.

Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford

CHAPTER I.

Deep silence brooded over the water and the green islands which rose like
oases from its glittering surface. The palms, silver poplars, and
sycamores on the largest one were already casting longer shadows as the
slanting rays of the sun touched their dark crowns, while its glowing
ball still poured a flood of golden radiance upon the bushes along the
shore, and the light, feathery tufts at the tops of the papyrus reeds in
the brackish water.

More than one flock of large and small waterfowl flew past beneath the
silvery cloudlets flecking the lofty azure vault of heaven; here and
there a pelican or a pair of wild ducks plunged, with short calls which
ceased abruptly, into the lush green thicket, but their cackling and
quacking belonged to the voices of Nature, and, when heard, soon died
away in the heights of the tipper air, or in the darkness of the
underbrush that received the birds. Very few reached the little city of
Tennis, which now, during the period of inundation in the year 274 B.C.,
was completely encircled by water.

From the small island, separated from it by a channel scarcely three
arrow-shots wide, it seemed as though sleep or paralysis had fallen upon
the citizens of the busy little industrial town, for few people appeared
in the streets, and the scanty number of porters and sailors who were
working among the ships and boats in the little fleet performed their
tasks noiselessly, exhausted by the heat and labour of the day.

Columns of light smoke rose from many of the buildings, but the sunbeams
prevented its ascent into the clear, still air, and forced it to spread
over the roofs as if it, too, needed rest.

Silence also reigned in the little island diagonally opposite to the
harbour. The Tennites called it the Owl's Nest, and, though for no
especial reason, neither they nor the magistrates of King Ptolemy II ever
stepped upon its shores. Indeed, a short time before, the latte