Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Hadrian, Emperor of Rome, 76-138 -- Fiction
The girl drew her hand out of her lover’s and knocked at the door of
the little house; it was opened and the widow herself led Arsinoe to
the bedside of her sister. Pollux at first sat a while on a bench in
the garden, but soon sprang up and paced with long steps the path he had
previously trodden with Arsinoe. A stone table across the path, brought
him to a stand-still, and he took a fancy for leaping it. The third time
he came up to it he sprang over it with a long jump. But no sooner had
he done the frolicsome deed than he paused, shook his head at himself
and muttered to himself: “Like a boy!”--He felt indeed like a happy
child. But as he waited he became calmer and graver. He acknowledged
to himself, with sincere thankfulness, that he had now found the ideal
woman, of whom he had dreamed in his hours of best inspiration, and that
she was his, wholly and alone. And after all, what was he? A poor rascal
who had many mouths to fill, and was no more than two fingers of his
master’s hand. This must be altered. He would not reduce his sister’s
comforts in any way but he must break with Papias, and stand henceforth
on his own feet. His courage mounted fast, and when at last, Arsinoe
returned from her sister, he had resolved that he must first finish
Balbilla’s bust with all diligence in his own workshop, and that then
he would model his beloved; these two female heads he could not fail in.
Caesar must see them, they must be exhibited, and already in his mind’s
eye, he saw himself refusing order after order, and accepting only the
most splendid where all were good.
Arsinoe went home comforted. Selene’s sufferings were certainly less
than she had pictured them; she did not wish to be nursed by any one
besides dame Hannah. She might perhaps have a little fever, but any one
who was capable of discussing every little question of house-keeping,
and all that related to the children could not be--as Arsinoe thought
while she walked back through the garden, leaning on the artist’s
arm--really and properly ill.
“It must revive and delight her to have Roxana for a sister!” cried
Pollux; but his pretty companion shook her head and said: “She is always
so odd; what most delights me is averse to her.”
“Well Selene is of course the moon, and you are the sun.”
“And what are you?” asked Arsinoe.
“I am tall Pollux, and to-night I feel as if I might some day be great
Pollux.”
“If you succeed I shall grow with you.”
“That will be your right, since it is only through you that I can ever
succeed in that which I propose to do.
“And how should a simple little thing, such as I am, be able to help an
artist?”
“By living, and by loving him,” cried the sculptor, lifting her up in
his arms before she could prevent him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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