"Is it true," asked Xanthe, blushing, "that my uncle is seeking a rich bride for him in Messina?"
"Probably, but in courtship one does not always reach the desired goal.
Has Phaon told you nothing about his father's wishes? Question the
conjurer, or he'll get his new clothes with far too little trouble.
Save me the reproach of being a spendthrift."
"I don't wish to do so; what is the use of such folly?" replied Xanthe, with flushed cheeks, preparing to go into the house.
Her father shrugged his shoulders, and, turning his head, called after her:
"Do as you please, but cut a piece from the brown woolen cloth, and bring it to the conjurer."
The young girl disappeared in the house. The tune which the boy drew from the monaulus again and again sounded monotonous, but the young people constantly grew more mirthful; higher and higher sprang the bounding feet.
The ribbons fluttered as if a storm had seized them; many a gay garment waved; and there was no end to the shouts and clapping of hands in time with the music.
When Mopsus, or any other lad, raised his voice unusually loud, or a young girl laughed in the overflowing joy of her heart, Lysander's eyes sparkled like sunshine, and he often raised his hands and swayed merrily to and fro to the measure of the music.
Your heart really dances with the young people," said the conjurer.
"But it lacks feet," replied Lysander, and then he told him about his fall, and the particulars of his sufferings, the danger in which he had been, the remedies used, and the final convalescence. He did this with great pleasure, for it always relieved his mind when he was permitted to tell the story of his life to a sympathizing auditor, and few had listened more attentively than did the conjurer, partly from real interest, partly in anticipation of the cloth.