“And it is only to me that you do not scorn to reveal them!” cried Antinous, who had turned round to face the Emperor, and who with wide eyes had not lost one word.

“You?” said Hadrian, and a smile, not absolutely free from mockery, parted his lips.  “From you I should no more have a secret than from the Cupid by Praxiteles, in my study at Rome.”

The blood mounted to the lad’s cheeks and dyed them flaming crimson.  The Emperor observed this and said kindly: 

“You are more to me than the statue, for the marble cannot blush.  In the time of the Athenians Beauty governed life, but in you I can see that the gods are pleased to give it a bodily existence, even in our own days, and to look at you reconciles me to the discords of existence.  It does me good.  But how should I expect to find that you understand me; your brow was never made to be furrowed by thought; or did you really understand one word of all I said?”

Antinous propped himself on his left arm, and lifting his right hand, he said emphatically: 

“Yes.”

“And which,” asked Hadrian.

“I know what longing is.”

“For what?”

“For many things.”

“Tell me one.”

“Some enjoyment that is not followed by depression.  I do not know of one.”

“That is a desire you share with all the youth of Rome, only they are apt to postpone the reaction.  Well, and what next?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“What prevents your speaking openly to me?”

“You, yourself did.”

“I?”

“Yes, you; for you forbid me to speak of my home, my mother, and my people.”

The Emperor’s brow darkened, and he answered sternly: 

“I am your father and your whole soul should be given to me.”

“It is all yours,” answered the youth, falling back on to the bear-skin, and drawing the pallima closely over his shoulders, for a gust blew coldly in at the side of the tent, through which Phlegon, the Emperor’s private secretary, now entered and approached his master.  He was followed by a slave with several sealed rolls under his arms.

“Will it be agreeable to you, Caesar, to consider the despatches and letters that have just arrived?” asked the official, whose carefully-arranged hair had been tossed by the sea-breeze.

“Yes, and then we can make a note of what I was able to observe in the heavens last night.  Have you the tablets ready?”

“I left them in the tent set up especially for the work, Caesar.”

“The storm has become very violent.”

“It seems to blow from the north and east both at once, and the sea is very rough.  The Empress will have a bad voyage.”

“When did she set out?”

“The anchor was weighed towards midnight.  The vessel which is to fetch her to Alexandria is a fine ship, but rolls from side to side in a very unpleasant manner.”