Yet her heart belongs neither to Philotas, the great lord with the little brain, nor to the famous sculptor Myrtilus, whose body is really too delicate to bear all the laurels with which he is overloaded, but to you, and you alone--I know it." Hermon tried to contradict her, but Althea, without allowing him to speak, went on hurriedly: "No matter! I wished to know whether you loved her.

True, according to appearances, your heart does not glow for her, and hitherto you have disdained to transform by her aid, at a single stroke, the poverty which ill suits you into wealth.

But it was not merely to speak of the daughter of Archias that I accompanied you into this tempest, from which I would fain escape as quickly as possible.

So speak quickly.

I am to serve you in your art, and yet, if I understood you correctly, you have already found here another excellent model." "A native of the country," answered Hermon in an embarrassed tone.
"And for my sake you allowed her to wait for you in vain ?" "It is as you say." "And you had promised to seek her ?" "Certainly; but before the appointed hour came I met you.