“Yes, yes—­and had the same piercing grey eye.”

“He too used often to gaze up at the sky.  They have both the same broad forehead, too; but Abibaal’s nose was more aquiline, and his hair curled less closely.”

“And our governor’s mouth was grave and dignified, while Hadrian’s lips twitch and curl at all he says and hears, as if he were laughing at it all.”

“Look, he is speaking now to his favorite—­Antonius I think they call the pretty boy.”

“Antinous, not Antonius.  He picked him up in Bithynia, they say.”

“He is a beautiful youth.”

“Incomparably beautiful!  What a figure and what a face!  Still, I cannot wish that he were my son.”

“The Emperor’s favorite!”

“For that very reason.  Why, he looks already as if he had tried every pleasure, and could never know any farther enjoyment.”

............................

On a little level close to the sea-shore, and sheltered by crumbling cliffs from the east wind, stood a number of tents.  Between them fires were burning, round which were gathered groups of Roman soldiers and imperial servants.  Half-naked boys, the children of the fishermen and camel-drivers who dwelt in this wilderness, were running busily hither and thither, feeding the flames with dry stems of sea-grass and dead desert-shrubs; but though the blaze flew high, the smoke did not rise; but driven here and there by the squalls of wind, swirled about close to the ground in little clouds, like a flock of scattered sheep.  It seemed as though it feared to rise in the grey, damp, uninviting atmosphere.  The largest of the tents, in front of which Roman sentinels paced up and down, two and two, on guard, was wide open on the side towards the sea.  The slaves who came out of the broad door-way with trays on their cropped heads-loaded with gold and silver vessels, plates, wine-jars, goblets, and the remains of a meal had to hold them tightly with both hands that they might not be blown over.

The inside of the tent was absolutely unadorned.  The Emperor lay on a couch near the right wall, which was blown in and bulged by the wind; his bloodless lips were tightly set, his arms crossed over his breast, and his eyes half closed.  But he was not asleep, for he often opened his mouth and smacked his lips, as if tasting the flavor of some viand.  From time to time he raised his eyelids—­long, finely wrinkled, and blue-veined—­turning his eyes up to heaven or rolling them to one side and then downwards towards the middle of the tent.  There, on the skin of a huge bear trimmed with blue cloth, lay Hadrian’s favorite Antinous.  His beautiful head rested on that of the beast, which had been slain by his sovereign, and its skull and skin skilfully preserved, his right leg, supported on his left knee, he flourished freely in the air, and his hands were caressing the Emperor’s bloodhound, which had laid its sage-looking head on the boy’s broad, bare breast, and now and then tried to lick his soft lips to show its affection.  But this the youth would not allow; he playfully held the beast’s muzzle close with his hands or wrapped its head in the end of his mantle, which had slipped back from his shoulders.