actors. Street violence didn’t put the public in a mood for light entertainment.
A man wearing a voluminous old-fashioned toga and an equally oversized and obviously false beard declaimed stridently at the spectators.
“Though she had already learned to sate their bestial lusts in a fashion so unnatural we would not dare to speak of it in public, young Theodora’s career had only begun,” he declared. “No longer was she content to carry the stool of her older sister from engagement to engagement. Soon she developed certain specialties of her own. Specialties as fiendishly clever as they were vile. Parts which the Lord gave us were put to uses even He could not have imagined, for if He had, He would surely have created Adam and Eve quite differently.”
A figure wrapped in garish red robes and sporting a preposterous wig with coils of hair as big as beehives swayed out from the doorway of one of the vacant shops. The gaudy, ersatz crown balanced on the wobbly hairpiece proclaimed the figure to be Theodora. The stubble beneath the rouge revealed the future empress to be male.
Felix chuckled. “An empress like that would put the whole Persian army to flight.”
The white-bearded narrator leaned toward the crowd and spoke in a stage whisper. “Friends, our troupe is privileged to have among us one who lately occupied the same stage as Theodora and was thus intimately acquainted with her act, if not with the woman herself.”
He paused to leer and to allow a few onlookers to add their own coarse wit to the script. “Thus, for your enlightenment, we are able to present, not a poor simulation, but an exact recreation of the famous performance many talk about, but few actually witnessed. Some may call what you are about to see vulgar, salacious, unfit for the eyes of decent Christians, or even an abomination. But, as Thucydides so aptly put it, history is comprised of examples taught by philosophy.”
John caught Felix’s eye and nodded in the direction of several actors who stood unobtrusively to one side. They had already played their parts or were waiting to do so. “I thought you intended to question these people?”
“And miss seeing the example he mentioned? Have some respect for philosophy!”
The painted, hirsute empress strutted back and forth in front of the crowd, puckering her red-smeared lips. Without warning, she flopped onto the ground like a bird that had taken an arrow, and slowly began to disrobe.
Or, John thought, it would be more proper to say dis-rag, to judge by the scraps of cloth that fell to the ground.
“Stop! Stop!” The narrator rushed over to the fallen empress and waved his arms frantically.
“Oh good sir, I cannot stop,” the empress wailed in a hideous falsetto. “I am but a poor actress and must earn my crust, or preferably a few coins, any way I can.”
From the crowd came a cry of “It’s a disgrace!”
Ignoring the comment, a lanky fellow carrying a bag of grain over his shoulder approached the prone figure. The straw in his hair revealed that he was acting the part of a farmer.
The narrator again addressed the audience. “What’s this chickpea up to? Can it be? Was Theodora’s performance really just as common gossip has it?”
Several in the crowd honked like geese.
The narrator screwed his face up in mock offense. “Some may find it humorous that a future empress was forced to support herself by stripping and allowing geese to gobble grain from her naked body.” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “Although I’ll wager the Patriarch isn’t one of them!”
The farmer opened his bag and sprinkled a few grains onto the prone empress. The crowd hooted. He daintily sprinkled a few more. The crowd grew noisier. Finally, he raised the bag, and dumped its entire contents on his fellow thespian.
The exaggerated choking noises made by the half-buried Theodora were drowned out by raucous honking of a much more professional and convincing nature than the
A man wearing a voluminous old-fashioned toga and an equally oversized and obviously false beard declaimed stridently at the spectators.
“Though she had already learned to sate their bestial lusts in a fashion so unnatural we would not dare to speak of it in public, young Theodora’s career had only begun,” he declared. “No longer was she content to carry the stool of her older sister from engagement to engagement. Soon she developed certain specialties of her own. Specialties as fiendishly clever as they were vile. Parts which the Lord gave us were put to uses even He could not have imagined, for if He had, He would surely have created Adam and Eve quite differently.”
A figure wrapped in garish red robes and sporting a preposterous wig with coils of hair as big as beehives swayed out from the doorway of one of the vacant shops. The gaudy, ersatz crown balanced on the wobbly hairpiece proclaimed the figure to be Theodora. The stubble beneath the rouge revealed the future empress to be male.
Felix chuckled. “An empress like that would put the whole Persian army to flight.”
The white-bearded narrator leaned toward the crowd and spoke in a stage whisper. “Friends, our troupe is privileged to have among us one who lately occupied the same stage as Theodora and was thus intimately acquainted with her act, if not with the woman herself.”
He paused to leer and to allow a few onlookers to add their own coarse wit to the script. “Thus, for your enlightenment, we are able to present, not a poor simulation, but an exact recreation of the famous performance many talk about, but few actually witnessed. Some may call what you are about to see vulgar, salacious, unfit for the eyes of decent Christians, or even an abomination. But, as Thucydides so aptly put it, history is comprised of examples taught by philosophy.”
John caught Felix’s eye and nodded in the direction of several actors who stood unobtrusively to one side. They had already played their parts or were waiting to do so. “I thought you intended to question these people?”
“And miss seeing the example he mentioned? Have some respect for philosophy!”
The painted, hirsute empress strutted back and forth in front of the crowd, puckering her red-smeared lips. Without warning, she flopped onto the ground like a bird that had taken an arrow, and slowly began to disrobe.
Or, John thought, it would be more proper to say dis-rag, to judge by the scraps of cloth that fell to the ground.
“Stop! Stop!” The narrator rushed over to the fallen empress and waved his arms frantically.
“Oh good sir, I cannot stop,” the empress wailed in a hideous falsetto. “I am but a poor actress and must earn my crust, or preferably a few coins, any way I can.”
From the crowd came a cry of “It’s a disgrace!”
Ignoring the comment, a lanky fellow carrying a bag of grain over his shoulder approached the prone figure. The straw in his hair revealed that he was acting the part of a farmer.
The narrator again addressed the audience. “What’s this chickpea up to? Can it be? Was Theodora’s performance really just as common gossip has it?”
Several in the crowd honked like geese.
The narrator screwed his face up in mock offense. “Some may find it humorous that a future empress was forced to support herself by stripping and allowing geese to gobble grain from her naked body.” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “Although I’ll wager the Patriarch isn’t one of them!”
The farmer opened his bag and sprinkled a few grains onto the prone empress. The crowd hooted. He daintily sprinkled a few more. The crowd grew noisier. Finally, he raised the bag, and dumped its entire contents on his fellow thespian.
The exaggerated choking noises made by the half-buried Theodora were drowned out by raucous honking of a much more professional and convincing nature than the
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