Read Online The Big Fisherman by Lloyd C. Douglas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lloyd C. Douglas
Tags: Historical fiction
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Zendi. 'Have any trouble with her, sir?'
'Nothing to speak of,' said Antipas. He patted the perspiring mare on her neck and gently tousled her forelock. 'You'll be a good girl now, won't you?' he murmured kindly. The filly tossed her head; but apparently thinking better of it, rubbed her muzzle across his arm. They all laughed again. Antipas was getting along very nicely with the Arabians.
Winter closed in. It was rather hard to bear. The days were short and cold and uneventful. Sometimes Antipas would talk to Arnon about Rome, and she would listen with wide-eyed interest, thinking to please him. When the first hardy little edelweiss peeped through the melting snow, he suggested that they plan a trip to Rome—not to stay very long. He knew she would enjoy the voyage, he said, and she would be interested in seeing this greatest of all the cities in the world.
Arnon demurred at first. She would like to go—but there was little Fara. We will take her along, said Antipas. That would be difficult, said Arnon. Then leave her here, said Antipas; she has an excellent nurse and we will soon be back. Do think it over, he implored, adding wistfully, 'I am really a city-bred man, my dear—and it has been a long time since I have been on a paved street.'
'He has done very well, Arnon,' said her father, when she consulted him for advice. 'Much better than we had thought. Perhaps you should humour him.'
'I'm not very happy in a big city,' said Arnon.
'And your husband is not very happy in the open country,' said Aretas. 'Better meet him halfway in this matter. Otherwise he may grow restless here.'
She nodded her head. It was good counsel. Antipas would grow restless here. She did not add that Antipas was already so restless that it was making him moody and detached.
* * * * * *
No one could have been more graciously attentive than was Antipas on their long voyage from the port city of Gaza to Rome. The early summer weather was perfect for sailing, the little ship had better accommodations than most and the ports of call were of fascinating interest.
Arnon could not be quite sure whether the Prince's good humour and high spirits represented his desire to make her contented or could be accounted for by a boyish anticipation of a return to his enchanted city. She gave him the benefit of the doubt and enjoyed the comfortable journey.
Antipas spent long hours, on lazy afternoons under the gay deck-canopy, discoursing on the life he had lived in Rome and the friends to whom he would introduce her. But the more he talked, the less confidence she had in her capacity to find pleasure in the pursuits of such people as he described. Did they ride? she asked. No—there really was no safe and quiet place to ride unless one lived on an estate in the country. But—couldn't they do that? inquired Arnon. Antipas had whimsically wrinkled his nose: he had had quite enough of country life for the present. But—wouldn't it be frightfully noisy in the city? Doubtless; but Antipas didn't object to the sound of traffic; it made him feel alive.
One day she asked about the language of Rome. Latin, wasn't it? Perhaps Antipas would teach her. No, Antipas had replied, they did not speak Latin; that is, it was spoken only by the lower classes.
'Everybody who is anybody,' he went on, 'has had private tutors, and these men are invariably Greeks—Greek slaves.'
'The better people are taught by slaves?'
'My dear, our Greek slaves are the most intelligent men in the world. We Romans do not pretend to match them in learning.'
'"We Romans"?' laughed Arnon. 'You are not a Roman, are you?'
Antipas had glanced about, before replying in a guarded tone, 'I am Jewish by race, but Rome is my city.' Rearranging Arnon's pillows for her better comfort, he reverted to the language question. 'You will pick up the Greek quickly, I think. You may speak with an odd accent at first. Most foreigners do. That is to be expected. But the Romans will find it charming. It
'Nothing to speak of,' said Antipas. He patted the perspiring mare on her neck and gently tousled her forelock. 'You'll be a good girl now, won't you?' he murmured kindly. The filly tossed her head; but apparently thinking better of it, rubbed her muzzle across his arm. They all laughed again. Antipas was getting along very nicely with the Arabians.
Winter closed in. It was rather hard to bear. The days were short and cold and uneventful. Sometimes Antipas would talk to Arnon about Rome, and she would listen with wide-eyed interest, thinking to please him. When the first hardy little edelweiss peeped through the melting snow, he suggested that they plan a trip to Rome—not to stay very long. He knew she would enjoy the voyage, he said, and she would be interested in seeing this greatest of all the cities in the world.
Arnon demurred at first. She would like to go—but there was little Fara. We will take her along, said Antipas. That would be difficult, said Arnon. Then leave her here, said Antipas; she has an excellent nurse and we will soon be back. Do think it over, he implored, adding wistfully, 'I am really a city-bred man, my dear—and it has been a long time since I have been on a paved street.'
'He has done very well, Arnon,' said her father, when she consulted him for advice. 'Much better than we had thought. Perhaps you should humour him.'
'I'm not very happy in a big city,' said Arnon.
'And your husband is not very happy in the open country,' said Aretas. 'Better meet him halfway in this matter. Otherwise he may grow restless here.'
She nodded her head. It was good counsel. Antipas would grow restless here. She did not add that Antipas was already so restless that it was making him moody and detached.
* * * * * *
No one could have been more graciously attentive than was Antipas on their long voyage from the port city of Gaza to Rome. The early summer weather was perfect for sailing, the little ship had better accommodations than most and the ports of call were of fascinating interest.
Arnon could not be quite sure whether the Prince's good humour and high spirits represented his desire to make her contented or could be accounted for by a boyish anticipation of a return to his enchanted city. She gave him the benefit of the doubt and enjoyed the comfortable journey.
Antipas spent long hours, on lazy afternoons under the gay deck-canopy, discoursing on the life he had lived in Rome and the friends to whom he would introduce her. But the more he talked, the less confidence she had in her capacity to find pleasure in the pursuits of such people as he described. Did they ride? she asked. No—there really was no safe and quiet place to ride unless one lived on an estate in the country. But—couldn't they do that? inquired Arnon. Antipas had whimsically wrinkled his nose: he had had quite enough of country life for the present. But—wouldn't it be frightfully noisy in the city? Doubtless; but Antipas didn't object to the sound of traffic; it made him feel alive.
One day she asked about the language of Rome. Latin, wasn't it? Perhaps Antipas would teach her. No, Antipas had replied, they did not speak Latin; that is, it was spoken only by the lower classes.
'Everybody who is anybody,' he went on, 'has had private tutors, and these men are invariably Greeks—Greek slaves.'
'The better people are taught by slaves?'
'My dear, our Greek slaves are the most intelligent men in the world. We Romans do not pretend to match them in learning.'
'"We Romans"?' laughed Arnon. 'You are not a Roman, are you?'
Antipas had glanced about, before replying in a guarded tone, 'I am Jewish by race, but Rome is my city.' Rearranging Arnon's pillows for her better comfort, he reverted to the language question. 'You will pick up the Greek quickly, I think. You may speak with an odd accent at first. Most foreigners do. That is to be expected. But the Romans will find it charming. It
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