enormous cherry tree, gazing into the tallest branches, from which fell
a shower of red fruit shaken down by an invisible hand. They had not met
since the day when Actaeon surprised him modeling before the nude
shepherdess.

The youth greeted the Greek with a smile.

"Are you no longer busy?" asked Actaeon with paternal kindness. "Have you
finished your work?"

The boy answered with a gesture of indifference: "My work! Do not laugh
at me, Greek. I have nothing to do."

"And where is Rhanto?"

"She is in the top of that tree, gathering the finest cherries for me.
She climbs like a wood-nymph and she will not let me go with her. She is
afraid I shall hurt myself."

The branches of the cherry tree shook, and the shepherdess descended,
agile as a squirrel, her limbs bare, her skirt gathered up and filled
with cherries. She and her lover devoured them amid laughter, their lips
ruddy with the crimson fruit-juice, and they decorated each other's hair
or hung yokes of cherries over their ears, forming picturesque
ruby-colored earrings.

Actaeon smiled at the strong, handsome young folks who ever sought each
other's company and frolicked as if they were in the heart of the
desert, giving no heed to the danger threatening the city.

"But what about your art?" he asked.

Erotion and Rhanto laughed at the recollection.

"I smashed the figure to pieces," said the boy. "I broke the clay into
fragments, and I have decided to touch no other than that in the
pottery--when I make up my mind to return there."

He flung his arms around the shepherdess and rested his head upon her
shoulder, rubbing his cheek against her neck with an almost feline
caress.

"Why should I work?" he added. "I spent many days kneeling before that
accursed clay, struggling to make it take on the form of her body; but
it is useless. Clay is clay, and it cannot become living substance. When
the soft flesh of my Rhanto is within reach of my hand, it is folly to
grow desperate trying to mold earth into a semblance of her life. I wish
to dream no more, Athenian. I will be content with what I have."

With sublime indifference he caressed his playmate in Actaeon's presence.

"One day," continued the boy, "I saw clearly, and I understood the
truth. Rhanto stood before me. Blinded by ambition I had seen in her
only the model, but that day I beheld the woman. Why seek glory when I
had love before me! Even though I should mould a great statue, what
should