We will stay here to-day, for if I meet her soon after she has reached Alexandria she will be undiluted gall and vinegar." With these words Hadrian rose from his couch, and waving his hand to Antinous, went out of the tent with his secretary.
A third person standing at the back of the tent had heard the Emperor's conversation with his favorite; this was Mastor, a Sarmatian of the race of the Taryges.

He was a slave, and no more worthy of heed than the dog which had followed Hadrian, or than the pillows on which the Emperor had been reclining.

The man, who was handsome and well grown, stood for some time twisting the ends of his long red moustache, and stroking his round, closely-cropped head with his bands; then he drew the open chiton together over his broad breast, which seemed to gleam from the remarkable whiteness of the skin.

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.

Often he was ready to listen to him and talk with him as a friend, but often, too, he repulsed him more sharply than the haughtiest upstart would repel the meanest of his servants.