Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Hadrian, Emperor of Rome, 76-138 -- Fiction
The prefect and Pontius had intended a quite different room to serve for
smaller assemblies, and had fitted it up suitably for the purpose, but
the Empress had preferred the great hall to the smaller room. The
venerable and nobly-born statesman was filled with vexation, nay, with an
embarrassment that made him feel estranged, when he had to glance round
the room to find the persons in it, collected, as they were, into small
knots. He could hear nothing but hushed voices; here an unintelligible
murmur and there a suppressed laugh, but from no one a frank speech or
full utterance. For a moment he felt as if he had found admittance to
the abode of whispering calumny, and yet he knew why here no one dared to
speak out or above a murmur. Loud voices hurt the Empress, and a clear
voice was a misery to her, and yet few men possessed so loud and
penetrating a chest voice as her husband, who was not wont to lay
restraint upon himself for any human being, not even for his wife.
Sabina sat on a large divan, more like a couch than a chair; her feet
were buried in the shaggy fell of a buffalo, and her knees and ankles
wrapped round with down-cushions covered with silk. Her head she held
very upright, and it was difficult to imagine how her slender throat
could support it, loaded as it was with strings of pearls and precious
stones which were braided in the tall structure of her reddish-gold hair,
that was arranged in long cylindrical curls pinned closely side by side.
The Empress's thin face looked particularly small under the mass of
natural and artificial adornment which towered above her brow. Beautiful
she could never have been, even in her youth, but her features were
regular, and the prefect confessed to himself as he looked at Sabina's
face, marked as it was with minute wrinkles and touched up with red and
white, that the sculptor who a few years previously had been commissioned
to represent her as 'Venus Victrix' might very well have given the
goddess a certain amount of resemblance to the imperial model. If only
her eyes, which were absolutely bereft of lashes, had not been quite so
small and keen--in spite of the dark lines painted round them--and if
only the sinews in her throat had not stood out quite so conspicuously
from the flesh which formerly had covered them!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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