Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Hadrian, Emperor of Rome, 76-138 -- Fiction
"Turn round and get into the crowd again." The favorite immediately
obeyed, and only too glad to escape from the crowd, which was a thing he
detested, he sat down on a bench close to the Paneum, and looked dreamily
at the ground while he thought of Selene and the nosegay he had sent her,
neither seeing nor hearing anything of what was going on around him.
When the gaudy ship left the gardens of the Paneum and turned into the
Canopic way, the crowd pursued it in a dense mass, hallooing and
shouting. Like a torrent suddenly swelled by a storm it rushed on,
surging and growing at each moment, and carrying with it even those who
tried to resist its force. Thus even Hadrian and Pollux were forced to
follow in its wake, and it was not till they found themselves in the
broad Canopic way that they were able to come to a stand-still. The
broad roadway of this famous street was bordered on each side by a long
vista of colonnade, and it extended from one end of the city to the
other. There were hundreds of the Corinthian columns which supported the
roof that covered the footway, and near to one of these the Emperor and
Pollux succeeded at last in effecting a halt and taking breath.
Hadrian's first thought was for his favorite, and being averse to
venturing himself once more to mix with the crowd, he begged the sculptor
to go and seek him and conduct him safely.
"Will you wait for me here?" asked Pollux.
"I have known a pleasanter halting place," sighed the Emperor.
"So have I," answered the artist. "But that tall door there, wreathed
round with boughs of poplar and ivy, leads into a cook-shop where the
gods themselves might be content to find themselves."
"Then I will wait there."
"But I warn you to eat as much as you can, for the Olympian table' as
kept by Lykortas, the Corinthian, is the dearest eating-house in the
whole city. None but the richest are his guests."
"Very good," laughed Hadrian. "Only find my assistant a new mask and
bring him back to me. It will not ruin me quite, even if I pay for a
supper for all three of us, and on a holiday one expects to spend
something."
"I hope you may not live to repent," retorted Pollux. "But a long fellow
like me is a good trencherman, and can do his part with the wine-jar."
"Only show me what you can do," cried Hadrian after him as Pollux hurried
off. "I owe you a supper at any rate, for that cabbage stew of your
mother's."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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