“He says that God will punish the one who will kill this snake.”
The remark of the recalcitrant rebel angered Hadrian, and he, a mighty, like the majestic monumental sculpture of Trajan, standing on the Forum, hung over the puny old man.
“I alone can punish here and no one else! Remember!”
In the cave there was silence, which was broken only by Rufus's grunt. Ceionius Commodus, who had been on the sidelines all this time, decided to intervene.
“Great Caesar, let me fight the Jewish messenger!”
Grim, with angrily sparkling eyes, Hadrian waved his hand and Commodus, coming up to the snake, deftly cut off her head. After this scene, the emperor addressed Akiva.
“You will be executed, old man, by a terrible execution.”
“Talking to God is not afraid of cruelty,” he replied detachedly.
“Proud! You don't have to talk to the gods, you have to ask the gods and listen to what they're talking about.”
Hadrian wrapped himself in his purple cloak, as if an unbearable, deadly cold pierced his body and went to the exit from the musty cave, to the hot sun, to the fresh air, even if it was saturated with the smoke of war, to those pleasant and elegant things that were waiting for him to return to Athens.
On the way out he stopped for a moment, saying without turning around.
“Send the legions to the Dead Sea, where the last rebels remain. And from this Jew, remove the skin from the living!”
“… You did a little reckless, in my opinion, rekindled the decrepit Servianus with conversations about the heir. What's the point? We've talked about it. Your successor should be Marcus Verissimus, as you call him…
In the meantime, Servianus goes to the homes of patricians and convinces that everything was decided. He is so pleased, this old peacock, that it becomes funny in the eyes of many when he solemnly starts praising you. It is as if the times of the Republic have come to life at the same time as Cato the Elder and Scipio…
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 asses
