Hugh Dancy
speaker
152 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Aug 2026
last heard 6 Aug
Hugh Dancy’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Aug 2026 with 1.
Appearances
At the first threat, people began to stay off the streets of Rome.
Then, after a few days, a generalized fear took over, and the city itself began to empty out.
Seized with fear, hour after hour, the citizens of Rome stormed the train stations and, shoving their way onto train carriages, had fled far away.
The richest people glutted their cars with oil and gas before bolting out of the thirteen city gates and kicking up dust headed to the most distant cardinal points.
And so it was for ten days.
And then, suddenly, the train stations were deserted and throughout Rome it was only the peddler's carts that raised any dust, the peddlers being afraid of nothing.
At that point, no one was left in the metropolis.
Only a few heroes and heroines stayed to watch over the city.
At midday, the heroes roamed imperiously through the streets.
Jacketless, they allowed the sun to whip their silk shirts to shreds while vainly regarding their reflections in their belt buckles.
When seeing each other on opposite pavements, even without knowing one another, they smiled proudly, confident that from Laterano to Montemario, from Valle Julia to St.
Paul's, their supremacy would last undisturbed and uncontested for at least two months.
The heroines didn't go out in the sun.
They each waited inside for their heroes to return home when they would dry their sweat and iron their silk shirts.
The women went out only at night, and exercising their wily ways, they would flick flirtatious glances with their stray cat eyes behind their companions' backs.
Since I adhere to the laws of nature and love the heat of the sun in summer, the heat of the stove in winter, I was among those heroes who hadn't fled the city during the summer onslaught.
The heroine chosen to dry my sweat was called Aminta.
This was once a male name, but my girlfriend's father did not know literary history.
And 18 years earlier, trusting his own ear, he had imposed that name on his newborn daughter.
The priest who baptized her didn't dare inform the father of his innocent error.
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