ary the picture," replied the Emperor. "Cleopatra
often dwelt in the little castle on the island with its harbor, and in
that tall tower on the northern side of the peninsula, round which, just
now, the blue waves are playing, while the gulls and pigeons fly happily
over it--there Antony retreated after the fight of Actium."

"To forget his disgrace!" exclaimed Antinous.

"He named it his Timonareum, because he hoped there to remain unmolested
by other human beings, like the wise misanthrope of Athens. How would it
be if I called Lochias my Timonareum?"

"No man need try to hide fame and greatness."

"Who told you that it was shame that led Antony to hide himself in that
place?" asked the imperial sophist; "he proved often enough, at the head
of his cavalry, that he was a brave soldier; and though at Actium, when
all was still going well, he let his ship be turned, it was out of no
fear of swords and spears, but because Fate compelled him to subjugate
his strong will to the wishes of a woman with whose destiny his was
linked."

"Then do you excuse his conduct?"

"I only seek to account for it, and never, for a moment, could allow
myself to believe that shame ever prompted a single act in Antony. I--do
you suppose I could ever blush? Nay, we cease to feel shame when we have
lived to feel such profound contempt for the world."

"But why then should Marc Antony have shut himself up, in yonder
sea-washed prison?"

"Because, to every true man, who has dissipated whole years of his
life with women, jesters and flatterers, a moment comes of satiety and
loathing. In such an hour he feels that of all the men under the lights
of heaven, he, himself, is the only one with whom it is worth his while
to commune. After Actium, this was what Antony felt, and he quitted the
society of men in order to find himself for once in good company."

"It is that, no doubt, which drives you now and again into solitude."

"No doubt-but you are always allowed to follow me."

"Then you regard me as better than others," exclaimed Antinous joyfully.

"As more beautiful at any rate," replied Hadrian kindly. "Ask me some
more questions."

But Antinous needed a few minutes pause before he could comply with this
desire. At last he recollected himself and proceeded to inquire why most
of the vessels were moored in the harbor beyond the Heptastadion, known
as Eunostus. The entrance there was less dangerous than that between
the Pharos and the