"And your advice is excellent, for you and for every other loiterer
through the gay fair-time of an idle life," replied the Emperor, "but
the man whose task it is to bear millions in safety and over abysses,
must watch the signs around him, look out far and near, and never dare
close his eyes, even when such terrors loom as it was my fate to see
during the past night."

As he spoke, Phlegon, the Emperor's private secretary, came in with
letters just received from Rome, and approached his master. He bowed
low, and taking up Hadrian's last words he said:

"The stars disquiet you, Caesar?"

"Well, they warn me to be on my guard," replied Hadrian.

"Let us hope that they be," cried the Greek, with cheerful vivacity.
"Cicero was not altogether wrong when he doubted the arts of Astrology."

"He was a mere talker!" said the Emperor, with a frown.

"But," asked Phlegon, "would it not be fair that if the horoscopes cast
for Cneius or Caius, let us say, were alike, to expect that Cneius or
Caius must have the same temperament and the same destiny through life
if they had happened to be born in the same hour?"

"Always the old commonplaces, the old silly objections!" interrupted
Hadrian, vexed to the verge of rage. "Speak when you are spoken to, and
do not trouble yourself about things you do not understand and which do
not concern you. Is there anything of importance among these papers?"