CHAPTER I.
The morning twilight had dawned into day, and the sun had risen on thefirst of December of the year of our Lord 129, but was still veiled bymilk-white mists which rose from the sea, and it was cold.
Kasius, a mountain of moderate elevation, stands on a tongue of landthat projects from the coast between the south of Palestine andEgypt. It is washed on the north by the sea which, on this day, is notgleaming, as is its wont, in translucent ultramarine; its more distantdepths slowly surge in blue-black waves, while those nearer to shore areof quite a different hue, and meet their sisters that lie nearer to thehorizon in a dull greenish-grey, as dusty plains join darker lava beds.The northeasterly wind, which had risen as the sun rose, now blew morekeenly, wreaths of white foam rode on the crests of the waves, thoughthese did not beat wildly and stormily on the mountain-foot, but rolledheavily to the shore in humped ridges, endlessly long, as if they wereof molten lead. Still the clear bright spray splashed up when the gullsdipped their pinions in the water as they floated above it, hither andthither, restless and uttering shrill little cries, as though driven byterror.
Three men were walking slowly along the causeway which led from the topof the hill down into the valley, but it was only the eldest, who walkedin front of the other two, who gave any heed to the sky, the sea, thegulls, and the barren plain that lay silent at his feet. He stopped,and as soon as he did so, the others followed his example. The landscapebelow him seemed to rivet his gaze, and it justified the disapprovalwith which he gently shook his head, which was somewhat sunk into hisbeard. A narrow strip of desert stretched westward before him as far asthe eye could reach, dividing two levels of water. Along this naturaldyke a caravan was passing, and the elastic feet of the camels fellnoiselessly on the road they trod. The leader, wrapped in his whitemantle, seemed asleep, and the camel-drivers to be dreaming; thedull-colored eagles by the road-side did not stir at their approach.To the right of the stretch of flat coast along which the road ran fromSyria to Egypt, lay the gloomy sea, overhung by grey clouds; to the leftlay the desert, a strange and mysterious feature in the landscape, ofwhich the eye could not see the end, either to the east or to the west,and which looked here like a stretch of snow, there like standing water,and again like a thicket of rushes.
The eldest of our travellers gazed constantly towards heaven or into thedistance; the second, a slave who carried rugs and cloaks on his broadshoulders, never took his eyes off his master; and the third, a young,free-man, looked wearily and dreamily down the road.
A broad path, leading to a stately temple, crossed that which led fromthe summit of the mountain to the coast, and the bearded pedestrianturned up it; but he followed it only for a few steps, then he turnedhis head with a dissatisfied air, muttered a few unintelligible wordsinto his beard, turned round and hastily retraced his steps to thenarrow way, down which he went towards the valley. His young companionfollowed him without raising his head or interrupting his reverie, asif he were his shadow, but the slave lifted his cropped fair head anda stolen smile crossed his lips as on the left hand side of the Kasiusroad he caught sight of a black kid, and close beside it an old womanwho, at the approach of the three men covered her wrinkled face in alarmwith her dark blue veil.
"That is the reason then!" said the slave to himself with a nod, andblowing a kiss into the air to a black-haired girl who crouched at theold woman's feet. But she, for whom the greeting was intended, did notobserve this mute courtship, for her eyes followed the travellers, andespecially the young man, as if spellbound. As soon as the three werefar enough off not to hear her, the girl asked with a shiver, as if somedesert-spectre had passed by-and in a low voice "Grandmother, who wasthat?"
The old woman raised her veil, laid her hand on her grandchild's mouth,and whispered:
"It was he."
"The Emperor?"
The old woman answered with a significant nod, but the girl squeezedherself up, against her grandmother, with vehement curiosity stretchingout her dusky head to see better, and asked softly: "The young one?"
"Silly child! the one in front with a grey beard."
"He? Oh, I wish the young one was the Emperor!"
It was in fact Hadrian, the Roman Emperor, who walked on in silencebefore his escort, and it seemed as though his advent had given life tothe desert, for as he approached the reed-swamp, the kites flew up inthe air, and from behind a sand-hill on the edge of the broader roadwhich Hadrian had avoided, came two men in priestly robes. They bothbelonged to the temple of Baal of Kariotis, a small structure of solidstone, which faced the sea, and which the Emperor had yesterday visited.
"Do you think he has lost his way?" said one to the other, in thePhoenician tongue.
"Hardly," was the answer. "Master said that he could always find a roadagain by which he had once gone, even in the dark."
"And yet he is gazing more at the clouds than at the road."
"Still, he promised us yesterday."
"He promised nothing for certain," interrupted the other.
"Indeed he did; at parting he called out--and I heard him distinctly:'Perhaps I shall return and consult your oracle.'"
"Perhaps."
"I think he said 'probably.'"
"Who knows whether some sign he has seen up in the sky may not haveturned him back; he is going to the camp by the sea."
"But the banquet is standing ready for him in our great hall."
"He will find what he needs down there. Come, it is a wretched morning,and I am being frozen."
"Wait a little longer-look there."
"What?"
"He does not even wear a hat to cover his grey hair."
"He has never yet been seen to travel with anything on his head."
"And his grey cloak is not very imperial looking."
"He always wears the purple at a banquet."
"Do you know who his walk and appearance remind me of?"
"Who?"
"Of our late high-priest, Abibaal; he used to walk in that ponderous,meditative way, and wear a beard like the Emperor's."
"Yes, yes--and had the same piercing grey eye."
"He too used often to gaze up at the sky. They have both the same broadforehead, too; but Abibaal's nose was more aquiline, and his hair curledless closely."
"And our governor's mouth was grave and dignified, while Hadrian's lipstwitch and curl at all he says and hears, as if he were laughing at itall."
"Look, he is speaking now to his favorite--Antonius I think they callthe pretty boy."
"Antinous, not Antonius. He picked him up in Bithynia, they say."
"He is a beautiful youth."
"Incomparably beautiful! What a figure and what a face! Still, I cannotwish that he were my son."
"The Emperor's favorite!"
"For that very reason. Why, he looks already as if he had tried everypleasure, and could never know any farther enjoyment."
............................
On a little level close to the sea-shore, and sheltered by crumblingcliffs from the east wind, stood a number of tents. Between them fireswere burning, round which were gathered groups of Roman soldiers andimperial servants. Half-naked boys, the children of the fishermen andcamel-drivers who dwelt in this wilderness, were running busily hitherand thither, feeding the flames with dry stems of sea-grass and deaddesert-shrubs; but though the blaze flew high, the smoke did not rise;but driven here and there by the squalls of wind, swirled about close tothe ground in little clouds, like a flock of scattered sheep. It seemedas though it feared to rise in the grey, damp, uninviting atmosphere.The largest of the tents, in front of which Roman sentinels paced up anddown, two and two, on guard, was wide open on the side towards thesea. The slaves who came out of the broad door-way with trays on theircropped heads-loaded with gold and silver vessels, plates, wine-jars,goblets, and the remains of a meal had to hold them tightly with bothhands that they might not be blown over.
The inside of the tent was absolutely unadorned.
The Emperor lay on acouch near the right wall, which was blown in and bulged by the wind;his bloodless lips were tightly set, his arms crossed over his breast,and his eyes half closed. But he was not asleep, for he often opened hismouth and smacked his lips, as if tasting the flavor of some viand.From time to time he raised his eyelids--long, finely wrinkled, andblue-veined--turning his eyes up to heaven or rolling them to one sideand then downwards towards the middle of the tent. There, on the skinof a huge bear trimmed with blue cloth, lay Hadrian's favorite Antinous.His beautiful head rested on that of the beast, which had been slainby his sovereign, and its skull and skin skilfully preserved, his rightleg, supported on his left knee, he flourished freely in the air, andhis hands were caressing the Emperor's bloodhound, which had laid itssage-looking head on the boy's broad, bare breast, and now and thentried to lick his soft lips to show its affection. But this the youthwould not allow; he playfully held the beast's muzzle close with hishands or wrapped its head in the end of his mantle, which had slippedback from his shoulders.
The dog seemed to enjoy the game, but once when Antinous had drawn thecloak more tightly round its head and it strove in vain to be free fromthe cloth that impeded its breathing, it set up a loud howl, and thisdoleful cry made the Emperor change his attitude and cast a glance ofdispleasure at the boy lying on the bear-skin, but only a glance, not aword of blame. And soon the expression, even of his eyes, changed, andhe fixed them on the lads's figure with a gaze of loving contemplation,as though it were some noble work of art that he could never tire ofadmiring. And truly the Immortals had moulded this child of man to sucha type; every muscle of that throat, that chest, those arms and legs wasa marvel of softness and of power; no human countenance could be moreregularly chiselled. Antinous observing that his master's attention hadbeen attracted to his play with the dog, let the animal go and turnedhis large, but not very brilliant, eyes on the Emperor.
"What are you doing here?" asked Hadrian kindly.
"Nothing," said the boy.
"No one can do nothing. Even if we fancy we have succeeded in doingnothing we still continue to think that we are unoccupied, and to thinkis a good deal."
"But I cannot even think."
"Every one can think; besides you were not doing nothing, for you wereplaying."
"Yes, with the dog." With these words Antinous stretched out his legson the ground, pushed away the dog, and raised his curly head on bothhands.
"Are you tired?" asked the Emperor.
"Yes."
"We both kept watch for an equal portion of the night, and I, who am somuch older, feel quite wide awake."
"It was only yesterday that you were saying that old soldiers were thebest for night-watches."
The Emperor nodded, and then said:
"At your age while we are awake we live three times as fast as at mine,and so we need to sleep twice as long. You have every right to be tired.To be sure it was not till three hours after midnight that we climbedthe mountain, and how often a supper party is not over before that."
"It was very cold and uncomfortable up there."
"Not till after the sun had risen."
"Ah! before that you did not notice it, for till then you were busythinking of the stars."
"And you only of yourself--very true."
"I was thinking of your health too when that cold wind rose beforeHelios appeared."
"I was obliged to await his rising."
"And can you discern future events by the way and manner of the risingof the sun?"
Hadrian looked in surprise at the speaker, shook his head in negation,looked up at the top of the tent, and after a long pause said, in abruptsentences, with frequent interruptions:
"Day is the present merely, and the future is evolved out of darkness;the corn grows from the clods of the field; the rain falls from thedarkest clouds; a new generation is born of the mother's womb; the limbsrecover their vigor in sleep. And what is begotten of the darkness ofdeath--who can tell?"
When, after saying this, the Emperor had remained for some time silent,the youth asked him:
"But if the sunrise teaches you nothing concerning the future why shouldyou so often break your night's rest and climb the mountain to see it?"
"Why? Why?" repeated Hadrian, slowly and meditatively, stroking hisgrizzled beard; then he went on as if speaking to himself:
"That is a question which reason fails to answer, before which my lipsfind no words; and, if I had them at my command, who among the rabblewould understand me? Such questions can best be answered by means ofparables. Those who take part in life are actors, and the world is theirstage. He who wants to look tall on it wears the cothurnus, and is not amountain the highest vantage ground that a man can find for the sole ofhis foot? Kasius there is but a hill, but I have stood on greater giantsthan he, and seen the clouds rise below me, like Jupiter on Olympus."
"But you need climb no mountains to feel yourself a god," criedAntinous; "the godlike is your title--you command and the world mustobey. With a mountain beneath his feet a man is nearer to heaven nodoubt than he is on the plain."
"Well?"
"I dare not say what came into my mind."
"Speak out."
"I knew a little girl who when I took her on my shoulder would stretchout her arms and exclaim, 'I am so tall!' She fancied that she wastaller than I then, and yet was only little Panthea."
"But in her own conception of herself, it was she who was tall, and thatdecides the issue, for to each of us a thing is only that which it seemsto us. It is true they call me godlike, but I feel every day, and ahundred times a day, the limitations of the power and nature of man, andI cannot get beyond them. On the top of a mountain I cease to feel them;there I feel as if I were great, for nothing is higher than my head, faror near. And when, as I stand there, the night vanishes before my eyes,when the splendor of the young sun brings the world into new life forme, by restoring to my consciousness all that just before had beenengulfed in gloom, then a deeper breath swells my breast, and my lungsfill with the purer and lighter air of the heights. Up there, alone andin silence, no hint can reach me of the turmoil below, and I feel myselfone with the great aspect of nature spread before me. The surges of thesea come and go, the tree-tops in the forest bow and rise, fog andmist roll away and part asunder hither and thither, and up there I feelmyself so merged with the creation that surrounds me that often iteven seems as though it were my own breath that gives it life. Like thestorks and the swallows, I yearn for the distant land, and where shouldthe human eye be more likely to be permitted, at least in fancy, todiscern the remote goal than from the summit of a mountain?
"The limitless distance which the spirit craves for seems there toassume a form tangible to the senses, and the eye detects its borderline. My whole being feels not merely elevated, but expanded, and thatvague longing which comes over me as soon as I mix once more in theturmoil of life, and when the cares of state demand my strength,vanishes. But you cannot understand it, boy. These are things which noother mortal can share with me."
"And it is only to me that you do not scorn to reveal them!" criedAntinous, who had turned round to face the Emperor, and who with wideeyes had not lost one word.
"You?" said Hadrian, and a smile, not absolutely free from mockery,parted his lips. "From you I should no more have a secret than from theCupid by Praxiteles, in my study at Rome."
The blood mounted to the lad's cheeks and dyed them flaming crimson. TheEmperor observed this and said kindly:
"You are more to me than the statue, for the marble cannot blush. In thetime of the Athenians Beauty governed life, but in you I can see thatthe gods are pleased to give it a bodily existence, even in our owndays, and to look at you reconciles me to the discords of existence. Itdoes me good. But how should I expect to find that you understand me;your brow was never made to be furrowed by thought; or did you reallyunderstand one word of all I said?"
Antinous propped himself on his left arm, and lifting his right hand, hesaid
emphatically:
"Yes."
"And which," asked Hadrian.
"I know what longing is."
"For what?"
"For many things."
"Tell me one."
"Some enjoyment that is not followed by depression. I do not know ofone."
"That is a desire you share with all the youth of Rome, only they areapt to postpone the reaction. Well, and what next?"
"I cannot tell you."
"What prevents your speaking openly to me?"
"You, yourself did." "I?"
"Yes, you; for you forbid me to speak of my home, my mother, and mypeople."
The Emperor's brow darkened, and he answered sternly:
"I am your father and your whole soul should be given to me."
"It is all yours," answered the youth, falling back on to the bear-skin,and drawing the pallima closely over his shoulders, for a gust blewcoldly in at the side of the tent, through which Phlegon, the Emperor'sprivate secretary, now entered and approached his master. He wasfollowed by a slave with several sealed rolls under his arms.
"Will it be agreeable to you, Caesar, to consider the despatchesand letters that have just arrived?" asked the official, whosecarefully-arranged hair had been tossed by the sea-breeze.
"Yes, and then we can make a note of what I was able to observe in theheavens last night. Have you the tablets ready?"
"I left them in the tent set up especially for the work, Caesar."
"The storm has become very violent."
"It seems to blow from the north and east both at once, and the sea isvery rough. The Empress will have a bad voyage."
"When did she set out?"
"The anchor was weighed towards midnight. The vessel which is to fetchher to Alexandria is a fine ship, but rolls from side to side in a veryunpleasant manner."
Hadrian laughed loudly and sharply at this, and said:
"That will turn her heart and her stomach upside down. I wish I werethere to see--but no, by all the gods, no! for she will certainly forgetto paint this morning; and who will construct that edifice of hair ifall her ladies share her fate. We will stay here to-day, for if I meether soon after she has reached Alexandria she will be undiluted gall andvinegar."
With these words Hadrian rose from his couch, and waving his hand toAntinous, went out of the tent with his secretary.
A third person standing at the back of the tent had heard the Emperor'sconversation with his favorite; this was Mastor, a Sarmatian of the raceof the Taryges. He was a slave, and no more worthy of heed than the dogwhich had followed Hadrian, or than the pillows on which the Emperor hadbeen reclining. The man, who was handsome and well grown, stood forsome time twisting the ends of his long red moustache, and stroking hisround, closely-cropped head with his bands; then he drew the openchiton together over his broad breast, which seemed to gleam from theremarkable whiteness of the skin. He never took his eyes off Antinous,who had turned over, and covering his face with his hands had buriedthem in the bear's hairy mane.
Mastor had something he wanted to say to him, but he dared not addresshim for the young favorite's demeanor could not be reckoned on. Oftenhe was ready to listen to him and talk with him as a friend, but often,too, he repulsed him more sharply than the haughtiest upstart wouldrepel the meanest of his servants. At last the slave took courage andcalled the lad by his name, for it seemed less hard to submit to ascolding than to smother the utterance of a strong, warm feeling,unimportant as it might be, which was formed in words in his mind.Antinous raised his head a little on his hands and asked:
"What is it?"
"I only wanted to tell you," replied the Sarmatian, "that I know who thelittle girl was that you so often took upon your shoulders. It was yourlittle sister, was it not, of whom you were speaking to me lately?"
The lad nodded assent, and then once more buried his head in his hands,and his shoulders heaved so violently that it would seem that he wasweeping.--Mastor remained silent for a few minutes, then he went up toAntinous and said:
"You know I have a son and a little daughter at home, and I am alwaysglad to hear about little girls. We are alone and if it will relieveyour heart."
"Let me alone, I have told you a dozen times already about my mother andlittle Parthea," replied Antinous, trying to look composed.
"Then do so confidently for the thirteenth," said the slave. "In thecamp and in the kitchen I can talk about my people as much as I like.But you--tell me, what do you call the little dog that Panthea made ascarlet cloak for?"
"We called it Kallista," cried Antinous wiping his eyes with the backof his hand. "My father would not allow it but we persuaded my mother.I was her favorite, and when I put my arms round her and looked at herimploringly she always said 'yes' to anything I asked her."
A bright light shone in the boy's weary eyes; he had remembered a wholewealth of joys which left no depression behind them.