Gabriella in Kytherramne
The night before she was crucified, Gabriella Sivilla partied. From his balcony, working in the mellow evening by the light of a graceful lamp – a good piece that, made by Eumenides a century before – the tribune could see the blaze of lights and hear senseless laughter and parrot talk. Kytherramne’s bright young things had flocked around, perfumed and coiffeured and bright with jewels – and that was just the men, he thought sourly. Perhaps it was inevitable...
Gabriella In Kytherramne
The night before she was crucified, Gabriella Sivilla partied. From his balcony, working in the mellow evening by the light of a graceful lamp – a good piece that, made by Eumenides a century before – the tribune could see the blaze of lights and hear senseless laughter and parrot talk. Kytherramne’s bright young things had flocked around, perfumed and coiffeured and bright with jewels – and that was just the men, he thought sourly. Perhaps it was inevitable...
Gabriella In Kytherramne