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Make haste, my friend, or new cares will come to spoil my holiday mood." Antinous and Mastor at once quitted the Emperor's room; in the corridor the lad beckoned the slave to him and said in a low voice: "You can hold your tongue I know, will you do me a favor?" "Three sooner than one," replied the Sarmatian. "You are free to-day are you going into the city?" "I think so."
He at once called Mastor, and desired him to take charge of the hound which had followed his steps as he paced the room, then he went into his sleeping-room, took out a phial of a most costly essence, which Hadrian had given him on his last birthday, and which had formerly belonged to Trajan's wife, Kotina, and then proceeded to the steward's rooms.
The third hour after midnight must be quite close at hand, and he had scarcely left himself time to rush back into the palace, throw himself on his couch, and call Mastor.
He never took his eyes off Antinous, who had turned over, and covering his face with his hands had buried them in the bear's hairy mane. Mastor had something he wanted to say to him, but he dared not address him for the young favorite's demeanor could not be reckoned on.
Drive the pegs tighter you fellows out there or the whirlwind will tear down the slight structure." "And how sultry the air is!" "The hot wind seems to warm even the flood of rain. Here it is still dry; mix me a cup of wine, Antinous. Have any letters come?" "Yes, my Lord." "Give them to me, Mastor."
I can teach any one what is meant by sorrow but I know too now where comfort is to be found." With these words Mastor held the tray he was carrying on his hip with his right hand, while he put the left on the negro's shoulder and whispered to him: "Have you ever heard of the Christians?"
He never took his eyes off Antinous, who had turned over, and covering his face with his hands had buried them in the bear's hairy mane. Mastor had something he wanted to say to him, but he dared not address him for the young favorite's demeanor could not be reckoned on.
Summer and winter Mastor was accustomed to leave his master's bedroom before sunrise to prepare everything that Hadrian could need when he rose from his slumbers.
Mastor hesitated a little, but as he could not but own to himself that he would be obliged at last to yield to the stronger will of this imperious man, and as moreover he knew that the haughty and extravagant praetor was in fact one of the kindest of masters, he sighed deeply and whispered: "You will not be the ruin of a poor wretch like me, that I know, so I will tell you, we are living at Lochias."
Mastor, too, lay down to rest after he had spread a rug for the dog in the corridor outside the Emperor's sleeping-room.
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