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Updated: May 7, 2025
The Emperor took the cup carved by Pollux, looked at it with admiration, and before putting it to his lips said: "A masterpiece, dame; what would Caesar find to drink out of here where the gate-keeper uses such a treasure? Who executed this admirable work, pray?" "My son carved it for me in his spare time." "He is a highly-skilled sculptor," Titianus explained.
But as you are the granddaughter of Claudius Balbillus, I feel it to be due to myself to say, that if Pollux had really made this monstrous bust he would not be in this palace now, for I should have turned him out and thrown the horrid object after him. You look surprised you do not know who I am that can address you so."
But at last, when by the care of his friends and physic he was freed from his distemper and become his own man again, he thus expostulates with them, "Now, by Pollux, my friends, you have rather killed than preserved me in thus forcing me from my pleasure." By which you see he liked it so well that he lost it against his will.
But if the eye seeks a sensation of extraordinary vastness, it must travel beyond the three columns of the temple of Castor and Pollux, beyond the vestiges of the house of the Vestals, beyond the temple of Faustina, in which the Christian Church of San Lorenzo has so composedly installed itself, and even beyond the round temple of Romulus, to light upon the Basilica of Constantine with its three colossal, gaping archways.
He gave me that ring with the portraits of Castor and Pollux." "My brothers were the models," remarked Melissa, glad to find something to say without dissembling. Caracalla examined the stone in the gold ring more closely, and exclaimed in admiration: "How delicate the little heads are! At the first glance one recognizes the hand of the happily gifted artist.
As the two men both had ready pens and stood side by side in many controversies, they came to be regarded by the public as a pair of Great Twin Brethren, the Castor and Pollux of many a scientific battle of Lake Regillus. Odd confusions sometimes followed.
The architect went away, but Pollux continued the conversation that had been begun by saying: "Only I cannot understand how a man who practises so many arts at once as Hadrian does, and at the same time looks after the state and its government, who is a passionate huntsman and who dabbles in every kind of miscellaneous learning, contrives, when he wants to practise one particular form of art, to recall all his five senses into the nest from which he has let them fly, here, there, and everywhere.
Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos heaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell" In Cowper's poem of "Yardley Oak" there are some beautiful mythological allusions. The former of the two following is to the fable of Castor and Pollux; the latter is more appropriate to our present subject.
After looking for some time at the sculptor's work Arsinoe grew calmer, and turning to Pollux she asked: "Did you make it?" "Yes," he replied, looking down. "And entirely from memory?" "To be sure." "Do you know what?" "Well." "This shows that the Sibyl at the festival of Adonis was right when she sang in the Jalemus that the gods did half the work of the artist."
But I am not to call her Cecilia any more. When my cousins came in for tea, they were told too. Charlotte cried, "Well, I never!" for which piece of vulgarity she was sharply pulled up by my Aunt Kezia. Amelia fanned herself she always does, whatever time of year it may be and languidly remarked, "Dear!" Angus said, "Castor and Pollux!" for which he also got rebuked. And after a sort of "Oh!"
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