"No, my Lord."
"What then can be the meaning of this: that every one wishes me joy of my son Verus excepting you. Do you not like my choice?"
Antinous colored and looked at the ground, and Hadrian went on:
"Say honestly what you feel."
"The praetor is ill."
"He can have but a few years to live, and when he is dead—"
"He may recover—"
"When he is dead, I must look out for another son. What do you think now? Who is the being that every man, from a slave to a consul, would soonest hear call him 'Father?"'
"Some one he tenderly loved."
"True—and particularly when that one clung to him with unchangeable fidelity. I am a man like any other, and you, my good fellow, are always nearest to my heart, and I shall bless the day when I may authorize you, before all the world, to call me 'Father.' Do not interrupt me. If you resolutely concentrate your will and show as keen a sense for ruling men as you do for the chase, if you try to sharpen your wits and take in what I teach you, it may some day happen that Antinous instead of Verus—"