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[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
THE EMPEROR, Part 1.
By Georg Ebers
After the Emperor's body-slave had started up to go to the aid of Selene,who was attacked by his sovereign's dog, something had happened to himwhich he could not forget; he had received an impression which he couldnot wipe out, and words and tones had stirred his mind and soul whichincessantly echoed in them, so that it was in a preoccupied and half-dreamy way that he had done his master those little services which he wasaccustomed to perform every morning, briskly and with complete attention.
Summer and winter Mastor was accustomed to leave his master's bedroombefore sunrise to prepare everything that Hadrian could need when he rosefrom his slumbers. There was the gold plating to clean on the narrowgreaves and the leather straps which belonged to his master's militaryboots, his clothes to air and to perfume with the slight, hardlyperceptible scent that he liked, but the preparations for Hadrian's bathwere what took up most of his time. At Lochias there were not as yet—as there were in the imperial palace at Rome—properly-filled baths;still his servant knew that here, as there, his master would use a dueabundance of water. He had been told that if he required anything forhis master he was to apply to Pontius. Him he found, without seekinghim, outside the room meant for Hadrian's sitting-room, to which, whilethe Emperor still slept, he was endeavoring, with the help of hisassistants, to give a comfortable and pleasing aspect. The architectreferred the slave to the workmen who were busy laying the pavement inthe forecourt of the palace; these men would carry in for him as muchwater as ever he could need. The body-servant's position relieved him ofsuch humble duties, still, when on the chase, when travelling, or as needarose, he was accustomed to perform them unasked, and very willingly.
The sun had not yet risen when he went out into the court, a number ofslaves were lying on their mats asleep, others had camped round a fireand were waiting for their early broth, which was being stirred withwooden sticks by an old man and a boy. Mastor would not disturb eithergroup; he went up to a party of workmen, who seemed to be talkingtogether, and yet remained attentive to the speech of an old man who wasevidently telling them a story.
The poor fellow's heart was heavy and his mind was little bent on talesand amusements. All life was embittered. The services required of himusually seemed to him of paramount importance, beyond everything else;but to-day it was different. He had an obscure feeling as though fateherself had released him from all his duties, as if misfortune had cutthe bonds which bound him to his service to the Emperor, and had made himan isolated and lonely being. It even came into his head whether heshould not take in his hand all the gold pieces given him sometimes byHadrian, or which the wealthy folks who wished to be the foremost ofthose introduced into the Emperor's presence, after waiting in theantechamber, had flung to him or slipped into his hand—make his escapeand carouse away all that he possessed in the taverns of the great city,in wine and the gay company of women. It was all the same to him whatmight happen to him.
If he were caught he would probably be flogged to death; but he had hadkicks and blows