title: Ravenna in Late Antiquity
author:  Deborah Mauskopf Deliyannis 
description: "Ravenna in Late Antiquity, by Deborah Mauskopf Deliyannis, is both a narrative history of the city's ruling elites and a survey of its architectural and artistic treasures. ... [treasures] worth pausing over. The illustrations and diagrams in Ravenna in Late Antiquity add to our understanding of the city's history and iconography - and can even serve as a kind of guidebook to an ambitious tourist." <br>Wall Street Journal<br /><br />"Deliyannis has provided an exceptional resource. Her book is a mine of information; it is functionally laid out, remarkably complete, and often points the scholar to interesting, unresolved questions. The book will become an essential resource for all those interested in the history, art, and architecture of Ravenna in late antiquity." <br>Catholic Historical Review<br /><br />"Deliyannis succeeds in her purpose to a commendable extent. Her work is scholarly, lucid, balanced and well organized throughout ... The author concentrates on the great monuments of the city, offering not just meticulous and informed descriptions, but also judicious and knowledgeable examination of the context of each ... This sensitive and informed treatment of the monuments combined with an impressive knowledge of secondary literature makes for a volume which should reinforce detailed understanding of an unparalleled survival from the antique world, and encourage more scholarly interest among both historians and art historians." <br>T. S. Brown, Early Medieval Europe
zlib_text: ![](Images/image00172.jpeg)
  
  ****
  
  ****
  
  “By all that is cursed and holy!” he swore, suddenly rushing to her and
  falling to his knees behind her. “Ravenna, what in the Great Being‟s name
  happened?” Why did he even ask?
  
  He already knew, even before he brushed her hair away with both hands as
  gingerly as he could.
  
  The strands, delicate as they were, clung to the wounds, stuck to the dried
  blood on her back. She had been whipped. There was no mistaking such wounds.
  No mistaking the ragged tearing of her silken gown down its back.
  
  “Please, don‟t …” she whispered.
  
  Bronse could not grant her the request. In their short, vague acquaintance, he
  had come to know her as a proud beauty who knew her mind and how to express
  her convictions. She was gentle by nature in spite of that. She was not the
  type to give anyone cause to do such a thing, not that anyone ever deserved
  it. He knew it hurt her to be seen like this by him, to be shamed and weakened
  before him, and he felt his throat closing w