Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
When the young noblemen who belonged to the school of Timagetes filed
past him, he took such delight in the beauty of their heads, the
wonderful symmetry of their limbs strengthened by athletic games, and the
supple grace of most of them, that he felt as if some magic spell had
carried him back to the golden age of Greece and the days of the Olympian
games in the Altis.
What could be keeping Melissa? This sight would assuredly please her,
and for once he would be able to say something flattering about her
people. One might easily overlook a good deal from such splendid youths.
Carried away by his admiration he waved his scarf to them, which being
remarked by the gymnasiarch, who with his two assistants-herculean
athletes--walked in front, was answered by him with a loud "Hail,
Caesar!"
The youths who followed him imitated his example, and the troop that came
after them returned his greeting loud and heartily. The young voices
could be heard from afar, and the news soon spread to the last ranks of
the first division to whom these greetings were addressed. But, among
the men who already were masters of households of their own, there were
many who deemed it shameful and unworthy to raise their voices in
greeting to the tyrant whose heavy hand had oppressed them more than
once; and a group of young men belonging to the party of the "Greens,"
who ran their own horses, had the fatal audacity to agree among
themselves that they would leave Caesar's greeting unanswered. A many-
headed crowd is like a row of strings which sound together as soon as the
note is struck to which they are all attuned; and so each one now felt
sure that his acclamation would only increase the insolence of this
fratricide, this bloodstained monster, this oppressor and enemy of the
citizens. The succeeding ranks of "Greens" followed the example, and
from the midst of a troop of young married men, members in the gymnasium
of the society of the Dioscuri, one foolhardy spirit had the reckless
temerity to blow a shrill, far-sounding whistle between his fingers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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