As was the case with all Romans who not long ago had commanded a
multitude of slaves and freedmen, Heliodora's household was much
reduced. Even before the siege began, many of the serving class
stole away to the Goths, who always received them with a welcome;
and since the closing of the gates this desertion had been of daily
occurrence, the fugitives having little difficulty in making their
escape from so vast a city so sparsely populated. No longer did the
child from far-off Anglia ride about on his mistress's errands; a
female slave, punished for boxing his ears, had stifled him as he
slept, and fled that night with five or six others who were tired of
the lady's caprices and feared her cruelty. Her aviary was empty.
Having wearied of that whim, she had let the birds loose; a
generosity she regretted now that toothsome morsels were rare. In
her strong box there remained little money, and the estate she owned
in a distant part of Italy might as well have been sunk in the sea
for all the profit it could yield her. True, she had objects of
value, such as were daily accepted by Bessas in exchange for corn
and pork; but, if it came to that extremity, could not better use be
made of the tough-skinned commander? Heliodora had no mind to
support herself on bread and pork whilst food more appetising might
still be got.
Pages:
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572