By the way, his grandson Fusсus behaves defiantly. In the Circus, on horse races, he went up to Marcus and began to laugh at him, to claim that the emperor had turned his back on him, and left his graces to others. I think you'd be more likely to know about the conversations that go on around Fusсus. He bragged about making up your horoscope and supposedly showing the date of your death. I don't remember exactly, but it's heard that the moon in Aquarius will get into the quart to Saturn, which will be devastating for you. I don't understand anything about it, but you love horoscopes, and you probably know what you're talking about. So, Fusсus says you'll live sixty-one years and ten months, and death will be in November ides.”47

Hadrian at first just ran through the eyes of this letter, which seemed to him a set of empty city gossip. He was never particularly impressed with Sabina's mind, considering her an ordinary woman, undistinguished, though moderately educated. Despite the story with Antinous and the almost complete break, Sabina sometimes under the mood allowed herself to share impressions about the high life of the court in his absence. Now, apparently, she had such a desire.

He reread the letter more slowly. Gradually the meaning of the last lines began to reach him, and deaf fury took hold of his heart. Servianus and Fuscus. It was he who chose them among the rest, trusted them, and the confidence of the emperor was serious, they cannot be scattered as cheap copper asses48 on the morning exit to customers. Trust was a great jewel to be cherished more simply than diamonds from thieves.

Servianus and Fuscus were the last of his close relatives, no others left. But what a folly, to walk among the senators and spread about his imperial plans! What a stupid thing to do! No, they had not passed the test, and it did not matter who sent it down—gods or emperor!

In addition to the horoscope, there must be something that irrevocably convinces in the correctness of the final choice. For Hadrian, it was always a test to which he subjected his entourage, various tests, invented by himself. Some of them passed with ease, as for example, Marcus. A boy who did not see life and, seemingly, was much inferior to experienced Servianus and ambitious Fuscus. But he withstood them when he walked around Rome with the merry and embattled priests of the Salii, though he was very young, did not yield to carnal temptations when he, Hadrian, sent young slaves to him.

Of course, he still had a lot of work to do to achieve perfection like that of Hadrian himself. But he had the makings and had the main thing—effort, tact and restraint, as if Verissimus had already studied the fashionable philosophy of stoics. However, Marcus was still engaged with grammars, he did not even approach rhetoric.

Benedicta, this girl slave, confessed to Hadrian that Marcus still could not restrain himself at the very end of the love game, but it meant nothing. It was fixable. He would take him in hand and completely inseparably will him his own emotions.

And Servianus? And Fuscus? Oh Gods, how ordinary they are, as near as primitive as sharks among a pack of predatory sharks! But the rank of the great pontiff, princeps, Augustus, above all earthly, above the base passions, above the amphibian’s creatures? The Emperor was a living god who would cross into heaven with death and join the Assembly of other gods. And how could Fuscus become a god after all, after saying such words about him, Hadrian?