Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
Now, as they made their way through halls and passages where the foot of
the uninitiated rarely intruded, she looked about her with more interest
when the priest drew her attention to some particularly fine statue or
picture, or some symbolical presentment. Even now, however, though
association with her brothers had made her particularly alive to
everything that was beautiful or curious, she glanced round with less
interest than she otherwise might have done, for she had much else to
think of. In the first place, of the benefits Diodoros was to derive
from the great Galen; then of her father, who this day must dispense with
her assistance; and, finally, of the state of mind of her grave brother
Philip. He and Alexander, who usually were such united friends, now both
were in love with Agatha, and what could come of that? And from time to
time her thoughts flew back to Caesar, and she felt as though some tie,
she knew not what, linked them together.
As soon as the litter had to be carried up or down steps, she kept an eye
on the bearers, and gave such help as was needed when the sleeper's
position was changed. Whenever she looked in his handsome face, flushed
as it was by fever and framed in tumbled curls, her heart swelled, and
she felt that she had much to thank the gods for, seeing that her lover
was so full of splendid youth and in no respect resembled the prematurely
decrepit and sickly wearer of the purple. Nevertheless, she thought a
good deal of Caracalla, and it even occurred to her once that if it were
he who was being carried instead of Diodoros, she would tend him no less
carefully than her betrothed. Caesar, who had been as far out of her ken
as a god, and of whose overwhelming power she had heard, had suddenly
come down to her. She involuntarily thought of him as one of those few
with whom she had come into personal contact, and in whose weal or woe
she had some sympathetic interest. He could not be altogether evil and
hardened. If he could only know what pain it caused her to see him
suffer, he would surely command Zminis to abandon the pursuit of her
brother.
Just as they were reaching the end of their walk, the trumpets rang out
once more, reminding her that she was under the same roof with him. She
was so close to him--and yet how far he was from guessing the desires of
a heart which beat with compassion for him!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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