The Emperor. Volume 10

'An old one?"

"At any rate older than myself. We had met in Athens when we still were young. At that time he was one of the school of Plato and the most zealous, nay, perhaps the most gifted of us all."

"How came such a man among the plague-stricken people of Besa? Is he become a physician?"

"No. But at Athens he sought fervently and eagerly for the truth, and now he asserts that he has found it."

"Here, among the Egyptians?"

"In Alexandria among the Christians."

"And the lame girl who accompanied the philosopher—does she too believe in the crucified God?"

"Yes. She is a sick-nurse or something of the kind. Indeed there is something grand in the ecstatic craze of these people."

"Is it true that they worship an ass and a dove?"

"Nonsense!"

"I did not want to believe it; and at any rate they are kind, and succor all who suffer, even strangers who do not belong to their sect."

"How do you know?"

"One hears a great deal about them in Alexandria."

"Alas! alas!—I never persecute an imaginary foe, as such I reckon the creeds and ideas of other men; still, I cannot but ask myself whether it can add to the prosperity of the state when citizens cease to struggle against the pressure and necessity of life and console themselves for them instead, by the hope of visionary happiness in another world which perhaps only exists in the fancy of those who believe in it."

"I should wish that life might end with death," said Antinous thoughtfully; "and yet—"

"Well?"

"If I were sure that in that other world I should find those I long to see again, then I might long for a future life."

"And would you really like, throughout all eternity, to push and struggle in the crowd of old acquaintances which death does not diminish but rather multiplies?"

"Nay, not that—but I should like to be permitted to live for ever with a few chosen friends."

"And should I be one of them?"

"Yes—indeed," cried Antinous warmly and pressing his lips to Hadrian's hand.

"I was sure of it—but even with the promise of never being obliged to part with you my darling, I would never sacrifice the only privilege which man enjoys above the immortals."

"What privilege can you mean?"

"The right of withdrawing from the ranks of the living as soon as annihilation seems more endurable than existence and I choose to call death to release me."

"The gods, it is true, cannot die."

"And the Christians only to link a new life on to death."

"But a fairer and a happier than this on earth." They say it is a life of bliss. But the mother of this everlasting life is the ineradicable love of existence in even the most wretched of our race, and hope is its father. They believe in a complete freedom from suffering in that other world because He whom they call their Redeemer, the crucified Christ, has saved them from all sufferings by His death."

"And can a man take upon him the sufferings of others, think you, like a garment or a burden?"

"They say so, and my friend from Athens is quite convinced. In books of magic there are many formulas by which misfortunes may be transferred not merely from men to beasts, but from one human being to another. Very remarkable experiments have even been carried out with slaves, and to this day I have to struggle in several, provinces to suppress human sacrifices by which the gods are to be reconciled or propitiated. Only think of the innocent Iphigenia who was dragged to the altar; did not the gulf in the Forum close when Curtius had leaped into it? When Fate shoots a fatal arrow at you and I receive it in my breast, perhaps she is content with the chance victim and does not enquire as to whom she has hit."

"The gods would be exorbitant indeed if they were not content with your blood for mine!"

"Life is life, and that of the young is of better worth than that of the old. Many joys will yet bloom for you."

"And you are indispensable to the whole world."

"After me another will come. Are you ambitious, boy?"

"No, my Lord."

"What then can be the meaning of this: that every one wishes me joy of my son Verus excepting you. Do you not like my choice?"

Antinous colored and looked at the ground, and Hadrian went on:

"Say honestly what you feel."

"The praetor is ill."

"He can have but a few years to live, and when he is dead—"

"He may recover—"

"When he is dead, I must look out for another son. What do you think now? Who is the being that every man, from a slave to a consul, would soonest hear call him 'Father?"'

"Some one he tenderly loved."

"True—and particularly when that one clung to him with unchangeable fidelity. I am a man like any other, and you, my good fellow, are always nearest to my heart, and I shall bless the day when I may authorize you, before all the world, to call me 'Father.' Do not interrupt me. If you resolutely concentrate your will and show as keen a sense for ruling men as you do for the chase, if you try to sharpen your wits and take in what I teach you, it may some day happen that Antinous instead of Verus—"

"Nay, not that, only not that!" cried the lad, turning very pale and raising his hands beseechingly.

"The greatness with which Destiny surprises us seems terrible so long as it is new to us," said Hadrian. "But the seaman is soon accustomed to the storms, and we come to wear the purple as you do your chiton."

"Oh, Caesar, I entreat you," said Antinous, anxiously, "put aside these ideas; I am not fit for great things."

"The smallest saplings grow to be palms."

"But I am only a wretched little herb that thrives awhile in your shadow.

Proud Rome—"

"Rome is my handmaid. She has been forced before now to be ruled by men of inferior stamp, and I should show her how the handsomest of her sons can wear the purple. The world may look for such a choice from a sovereign whom it has long known to be an artist, that is a high-priest of the Beautiful. And if not, I will teach it to form its taste on mine."