April, the sweetest month in the south, had decked the land in all its
wealth of beauty. The City of the Seven Hills, with its endless gardens
and plantations, wore a really enchanting aspect. It seemed to have
put on its freshest and gayest attire in honor of the secular games,
which had already begun on the previous day with magnificent races in
the Circus Maximus. To-day, the sixth after the calends,[125] at two
hours after sunrise, gladiators and ships were to fight in the Flavian
Amphitheatre, and men were to fight with beasts.
It was still nearly an hour to the time, but in the Forum and all the
neighboring streets the slanting light of morning fell on a crowd
so dense as to defy all description. Long files of litters, gorgeous
in purple and gold, pushed their slow way through the surging masses
of men struggling along the Via Sacra towards the entrance to the
amphitheatre.
Three hundred lions[126] and as many panthers, fifty Cantabrian
bears, forty elephants and other beasts, six hundred gladiators and
boxers--among them some women and dwarfs--a dozen of highwaymen from
the Appian Way, and about ninety Christians, were to shed their blood,
some in single combat, others in larger or smaller divisions, and all
in the course of the next three days, for the evening of the fourth saw
the end of the great festival.[127] Indeed, the herald who invited the
populace in the Emperor’s name, spoke the truth in more senses than
one, as he shouted the usual proclamation: "Come hither to see what
none of you has ever yet seen, or ever will see again!"[128]
To-day, the second day, the interest and excitement seemed even
greater than yesterday. The number of strangers, gathered together
from all parts of the Empire, was certainly swelled and, although the
amphitheatre could accommodate above eighty thousand spectators, the
crowd was so enormous, that many visitors were doubtful of succeeding
in fighting their way to places.
In the stream of litters, which were moving towards the Arena, not
from the Forum only but from the Cyprian Way, was one of conspicuous
elegance and splendor. The curtains were drawn open, and two handsome
but over-dressed and painted girls sat chattering among the billowy
cushions. These were Lycoris and one of her friends, Leaina, a native
of Asia Minor, who had spent the winter in Athens as companion to an
Egyptian lady of rank, and had arrived only yesterday evening in Rome,
the sea-passage being only just considered as open for the season.
Lycoris had a sort of sisterly kindness for Leaina--all the more
because she was well aware, that the oriental could not compare with
her in beauty; and Leaina, who had originally filled a very humble
position as a dancer in a low tavern at Capua, had been introduced
into society by Lycoris, and felt for her a feeble reflection of the
feeling, which in a deeper nature might have risen to gratitude. As
they sat together in the litter, splendidly dressed, their eyebrows
darkened with stibium,[129] and the veins in their temples outlined
with blue color, they seemed to be of one heart and one mind.
“It is delightful,” cooed Lycoris, “to have you at least--to enjoy
the fights in the amphitheatre with me. That stupid ship to be so
late--particularly when I think of your love for races. They were
splendid, my dear, positively splendid! First there was the great
procession from the Capitol to the Circus Maximus;[130] all the finest
young men in Rome on milk-white horses--a lovely sight! Then the
two-wheeled and four-wheeled chariots, the dancers, flute-players and
cithara-players, the priests in full dress, and last of all the judges,
with crowns of golden oak-leaves and robes of ceremony, like the hero
of a triumph. That was enough to show what the greatness of Rome means!
As a rule, all that people say of the glory of the Roman name and such
speech-making, is to me simply laughable; but when I see a sight like
that, it gives me a shiver down my back, and I feel a sense of--what
shall I call it?--the sublime--of--I do not know whether you understand
the feeling?”
“Yes, yes,” said Leaina, vaguely. “But you mentioned the priests; was
Titus Claudius present, the high-priest of Jupiter? You wrote to me,
a few weeks since, that his son Quintus had been charged before the
Senate with having joined the Nazarenes, and was condemned to the
beasts. I should think his father would hardly care to take part in a
festival....”
“My dear child!” interrupted the Massilian. “I see that Athens is
indeed out of the world. You do not know what has been the talk of
Rome for some days; ever since the ides of March Titus Claudius
has been lying at death’s door. He has a violent fever, is quite
delirious and, indeed, out of his mind. His hair, they say, has grown
white in these few months like that of a very old man. Rome does not
generally find time to think of the misfortunes of individuals, but the
sympathy in this case has been universal. At first every one blamed
Quintus Claudius, but now he is only pitied, and hundreds of the most
influential men in Rome are exerting themselves to save him. Even I,
who am indolence itself, have appeared as a suppliant at the consulate.
Seriously, Leaina, I feel for him deeply; it is a pity, he is so young
and so handsome. Wherever I had a chance I tried--with the chamberlain,
whom I can generally twist round my little finger--at last even with
the Empress--I forget, whether I told you when I wrote, that even the
Empress had done me the honor to smile upon me.... All in vain, Caesar
is inexorable. Even when the father offered in sheer despair to be a
victim to the law in his son’s stead, and to kill himself in expiation,
Domitian would not hear of mercy. Now the only hope is, that even in
the Arena the people will demand his release.”
“And Cornelia, his betrothed? She too was arrested?”
“She is to share his fate. Indeed she is guilty of a double crime: she
is a Nazarene, and she tried to murder Caesar. To ask pardon for her
would be tantamount to high-treason.”
“It is a strange story altogether,” said Leaina, with a little sigh.
“And after all, tell me, what is the particular crime of being a
Nazarene? What is it that they do?”
“Indeed, my dear, you ask me more than I can answer. It would appear,
that they carry on all sorts of idolatrous worship, and concoct schemes
of rebellion. Norbanus told me that they want to turn the world upside
down, and make the masters slaves, and the slaves masters. I told
him, that did not sound to me at all a likely story; for, if it were
so, only slaves would have anything to do with them. And now, besides
Quintus, the consul Flavius Clemens,[131] a relative of Caesar, has
been caught and converted; so there must be something more in it than
that.”
“Of course!” said Leaina.
“Very likely the whole business is somehow connected with the
disturbances, that have been reported lately from the Rhaetian
frontier. It is said that the conspirators--you know, Cornelius Cinna,
Ulpius Trajanus and the rest--have formed an alliance with some
Germanic princes, and are marching on Rome!”
“But that would be frightful! Just now too, when the best season of the
year is coming on!”
“Oh! do not be alarmed. Clodianus discovered it all in good time. And
to make sure, he is bringing troops out of the provinces--out of Gallia
Lugdunensis I rather fancy--down into the peninsula. If it comes to
the worst, they will give the rebels a lesson. But, as you see, the
feast is the only thing in men’s minds. If they had the remotest idea
even....”
“Well, by Cypris! I do not know what I should do. Only think of it, a
conflagration like that under Nero perhaps! The whole season would be
ruined.”
“You silly child!” laughed Lycoris. “But what is the matter again,
Philemon? Every minute we come to a stand-still.”
“Mistress,” said the bearer, “the city-watch have got a man in charge,
and the people are crowding round them and have stopped the way.”
Lycoris leaned as far as she could out of the litter. To the left, not
far from the entrance to the baths of Titus, two stalwart officials had
rushed at a pale young man, who defended himself desperately at first,
but was overpowered after a short struggle.
“I surely know that face,” said Lycoris. “And yet I cannot be sure....
Philemon, find out what that man has done to be arrested.”
The bearer sent one of the slaves, who went in front of the litter,
across to the spot where the two men-at-arms were now binding their
prisoner’s hands behind his back. In a few minutes the messenger
returned.
“It is Eurymachus, the slave of Stephanus, who was hunted for through
all Latium only last autumn.”
“To be sure, it is he!” cried Lycoris. “Do you remember, Leaina? It
was just before you left Rome. Of course; now I recognize his pale,
determined face. Only he has cut off his beard, which made him look
even paler then. My dear, do you know I shudder when I think of that
scene! Since Quintus has been condemned to the beasts, I have grown
quite nervous. That Eurymachus was his evil genius. Only see how
desperately he looks about him--and then he was perfectly calm, even
when he was led to the foot of the cross.”
“It would seem, that the last few months had taken down his spirit a
little.”
“No, no--he must have some other reason, that you may depend upon.
Besides--as he certainly was involved in this business of Quintus--oh!
perhaps there may be some new aspect of the question! He ought to be
heard.--Philemon, ask those men to come this way, to me.”
The two men, extremely astonished, came up to the splendid litter,
dragging their prisoner between them.
“Listen,” said Lycoris, in condescending tones. “You have caught a
prize this time. I know the fellow, and I know that Stephanus has set
a great reward on his head. Now, if you wish to find special favor in
his master’s eyes, just do as I advise you. Take my tablets, on which
I will write two lines, and carry them instantly, with your prisoner,
to Stephanus. You will still find him at home--for he is very busy, and
will not come to the Arena before noon. Will you do as I desire you?”
“Mistress,” said one of the men, “it is all the same, whether we take
the prisoner to the city-prefect or to his owner’s house. If you wish
it....”
Lycoris signed to the slave, who had called the men to speak to her,
and the servant took out of his robe two gold pieces, which he gave to
them, while Lycoris wrote on her tablets:
"Lycoris to the illustrious Stephanus, greeting:
“With these lines you will receive your slave, Eurymachus, whom
you have so long sought in vain. Keep him in safety, but do him no
hurt, till you have taken counsel with me. Why, I will tell you
when we meet. I would go to you at once if it were not so late, but
I am afraid of missing the beginning of the games. I am writing in
my litter--in the Cyprian Way, where your slave was taken. Expect
me to dinner. Farewell!”
She gave the tablets to the man, and bid him take the greatest care
of them. Once more she glanced at the pale and sadly-handsome face of
the prisoner, and a strange feeling stole into her heart, a stirring
of pity and of confusion. Most assuredly--so she thought--if, that
evening, she had seen the victim’s face so close, she would have spoken
a good word for him! Those grave, drooping lids veiled a wonderful glow
in the eyes! and the mouth, with its expression of silent suffering and
self-suppression, was a curious contradiction to that fiery glance! It
was altogether a fascinating riddle for the Massilian’s mobile fancy.
It was only a pity, that the problem should offer itself under so
unattractive a guise! A young officer, a Roman knight, a senator’s son,
with such a mysterious countenance, would have captivated her.--It was
disappointing, by Cypris! positively vexatious! There was something
bewitching in the man, as he raised his eyes to her face--she could
well understand, that it must have had a great effect on a nature so
impressionable as Quintus'.
The more she thought about it the more determined she became; she
must find out how it all had come about. The man, Eurymachus, to be
sure, looked by no means incapable of refusing point-blank to give
her any information. But did not his fate depend upon her? His death
was inevitable, and she alone could save him; so if she said: "Speak,
tell me all, or I leave you to your fate, which will be certain
death."--Absurd! of course he would speak. And it must be a wonderful
secret indeed, that could induce a youth like Quintus....
And then it suddenly struck her, that Eurymachus was not exposed to
the vengeance of the steward only. As a Christian he was condemned by
law--and she could not interfere with the course of the law. The chief
point still remained open: she would examine him closely, if indeed
Stephanus agreed to her request. And he must, positively must. Only
the other day she had had him in leading-strings, but the child had
suddenly outgrown her management. Since she had become so intimate with
Parthenius--Parthenius! And might not this prime favorite of Caesar's
be of some service? If Parthenius spoke the word, Eurymachus would be
set at liberty, in spite of any sentence passed upon him.
Lycoris passed her hand across her forehead; her head was burning. What
strange ideas were these, that had taken possession of her? What a
concatenation of foolish fancies and wild, confused ideas! She hardly
perceived, that meanwhile the litter had reached the entrance to the
Flavian Amphitheatre. Leaina had to rouse her from her dreamy mood.
“What is the matter with you, golden-haired maid?” she said in a low
voice. “You seem depressed, and just now you were all in the mood for
enjoyment! Tell me--the sight of that refractory fugitive has reminded
you of the performance, which ended so unfortunately?--Oh! but your
vanity as a hostess makes you too sensitive. Smile again, enchantress!
Consider, half Rome is looking at us.”
“You are very right, child,” replied Lycoris. “Our part is to look
beautiful, and we may leave grave thoughts to the vestal virgins.”
They got out of the litter, while one of the slaves obtained at an
office on the right hand of the door-way, the _tesserae_, ivory tickets
of admission,[132] on which the numbers of the seats were marked in
Latin and in Greek. The two girls took their tickets and slowly made
their way through the crush, to the places pointed out to them by an
attendant in a gaily-colored holiday tunic.[133] They gave him a small
gratuity in silver, dropped on to the cushions, which a slave had
carried in for them,[134] and drew a deep breath, quite tired out with
standing, climbing and struggling.
The amphitheatre was a magnificent spectacle. The fighting was not to
begin for half an hour yet, but the rows of seats, particularly the
higher and cheaper ones, were already crammed. Every part was as gay
as a flower-garden with gorgeous dresses,[135] eager eyes, and faces
flushed with expectation. Even the poorest had donned a newly-cleaned
and bleached toga. The gentler sex, decorated with gold pins and
diadems, was particularly strongly represented, from the matron of
senatorial rank to the artisan’s wife, and the gay Syrian of more than
doubtful origin.
Now the gaudily-gilt _podium_, kept for the senators,[136] began to
fill. They took their seats deliberately, with an air of affected
dignity; the Fathers of the State, as they were called, who were now
little more than tools in the hand of a despot. And there was many a
gap in their ranks, for Caesar’s suspected and proscribed foes still
languished in prison, vainly awaiting a judicial trial, much less a
verdict of acquittal.
Immediately after, the vestal maidens came in, in long white robes; for
them too law and custom reserved a place of honor. Ah! and the boldness
of Quintus Claudius in an audacious moment, in addressing one of these
priestesses as his ladylove, was not so outrageous as his father had
represented it, for those sacred robes were a cloak for more than one
broken vow,[137] and the irony of Lycoris' remark was not altogether
undeserved.
More and more crowds of spectators kept pouring up the stairs and
corridors; a hum of voices, like the surges of the Tyrrhenian sea, rose
from every part of the vast oval. At last the place was filled to the
very last corner. Only the purple and gold pulvinar,[138] prepared for
the Emperor, and the seats of honor immediately near to it now remained
unoccupied. All eyes were fixed on the shining gates, through which the
sovereign and his suite were to enter. The velarium too--the enormous
canvas awning,[139] which was stretched across the whole oval of the
amphitheatre and supported by fifty masts--bellied and flapped, as
though it shared the impatience of the audience. Any one, seeing it for
the first time, would have been tempted to think that the sky was about
to fall in on the earth.
"_Ave Caesar_!"[144] shouted the mob to hail the tyrant, and he
graciously bowed, and with theatrical exaggeration raised his hand to
greet his faithful Romans.
“A quarter of an hour yet,” said a fruit-seller, who passed in front of
Lycoris and Leaina. “Fresh oranges from Tauromenium![140] Take some,
mistress.”
“Bye-and-by, my little friend! Look, Leaina, there, in the fourth
row--do you know him?”
“I am too short-sighted.”
“It is Martial, our famous wit; and there, in the same row, the tenth
or twelfth seat from you[141]--he is stooping forward now....”
“The priest of Isis!” said Leaina. “Oh! his amulet was invaluable.
Close to Rhegium[142] we had such a storm....”
“He is looking uncommonly grave over it, is Barbillus.”
“Perhaps he is thinking, that the same fate may overtake him and his
Isis-creed, as has fallen on the Nazarenes.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Lycoris. “He is in high favor with the chamberlain.”
“Do you see any more acquaintances near us?”
“Acquaintances, oh yes! But no one I care about. There sits that
most ridiculous creature--do you know her, the silly Gaditanian,
Melinno?--I think I wrote to you about her. A Hispanian knight--she is
his freedman’s wife--brought her here a few weeks since, and now the
simpleton tries to ape me and my way of living, thinking to put me out
of fashion. Why, she even attempted to get up a recitation; Statius was
to do her the honor.--Oh! she is exquisitely funny with her affectation
of culture; and all the time she cannot even read.”
Leaina colored, for she was conscious of being equally ignorant, and to
change the subject she hastily enquired as to the order of the games
and fights. Lycoris could not give her much information on the subject.
She only knew, that the master of the festival had paid particular
attention to the variety and due alternation of the different
entertainments, so that, on each of the three days, every kind of fight
should be represented, and in typical completeness.
“You may be sure of good entertainment, ladies,” said a well-dressed
young man with an ingratiating smile; he was sitting a row above
them, and had heard their last words. “Women even are to fight with
knives--indeed the condemned Nazarenes are more than half of them
women.”
“And are they supposed to be able to defend themselves?” asked Lycoris.
“Against lions and tigers?”
“As well as they may,” said the lad, shrugging his shoulders. “Some of
the men are to have swords. I do not know whether the women are to be
so armed.”
“What can it matter?” said Leaina. “They are bound to die as criminals.”
“Very true; and a few inches of steel cannot make much difference. Even
Quintus Claudius, who is one of the strongest and best fighters in
Rome, will find out the difference between a fight with a lion, and a
wrestling-match in the ring at the baths.”
“I fancy the people will demand a pardon for him,” said Lycoris.
“Then Caesar will refuse it. If ever all means and ways were tried to
save a man, they have been in his case. All he would concede was, that
the criminal should be let off after conquering three beasts, and what
that means no Roman needs be told.”
“True indeed!” sighed Lycoris. “A Gaetulian lion, and a little, short
knife! It is as if I were to try to pull these walls down with my own
hands.”
"A very good simile.--How often have we seen it from this very
spot. The cleverest stroke--the knife to the hilt in the brute's
breast--never saves the man from being torn to pieces at last. And even
if what seems impossible should happen once, how can we hope that the
impossible should happen twice?"
A rattling roll of drums interrupted this dialogue. The roar of voices
in the amphitheatre was suddenly hushed. The gates behind the gorgeous
couch of state slowly opened, and Domitian, the awe-inspiring Emperor,
who--as his flatterers expressed it--moved the world by a wink of his
eyelash,[143] came forward in magnificent array, and took his seat on
the decorated throne.
Domitia took her place on the Emperor’s right hand; the seat to the
left remained vacant.[145] It had been intended for Titus Claudius
Mucianus, the miserable man, who--but a few hundred paces distant from
the scene of these hideous combats--was lying on a bed of anguish in a
dark struggle with madness and death.
Among the suite, that followed Domitian, was Parthenius, as ever the
perfect courtier and man of the world, smiling graciously, a very Sun
of condescension and affability. Clodianus, too, upright and soldierly,
only a little paler than usual; but perhaps his paleness was only a
reflection from the velarium which, now that Caesar had taken his
place, hung in a long curve over the arena, as though stricken with
reverence.
The herald’s drum rattled once more. Horns and trumpets struck up,
shrill, loud and exciting, as if the legions of the Republic were
marching to meet Hannibal. Then, down in the arena, the doors were
opened for the gladiators. Slowly and solemnly the combatants came out
from their cells on to the scene of action; tall and powerful forms,
mostly fair-haired, for the greater number were northerners by birth.
They marched round the arena with defiant looks, and pausing in front
of the imperial couch, they bowed and shouted in loud chorus: "_Ave,
Caesar, morituri te salutant_!"[146]
When they had all passed by, the manager of the ceremonies came
forward, bowed to the sovereign, and said in a distinct voice:
“Marcus the Suevian will fight with Tumelicus the Cheruscan.” Wild,
noisy music began to play, and the rest of the gladiators retired into
the lairs, the master of the fights described with a staff the circle
within which the struggle was to take place. The two gladiators were
armed by slaves; they had helmets given them, and round shields, and
short broadswords. Then again a drum gave the signal to begin.
There was breathless silence. Often as the Roman populace had seen
the bloody games of the arena, they never failed of their absorbing
interest. The matrons and maidens, with their golden ornaments, forgot
even the vicinity of their flattering gallants,[147] who till this
moment had done their utmost to fulfil to the letter Ovid’s advice as
to availing themselves of favorable opportunities.
Stealthily, like panthers waiting to spring, the combatants went
towards each other; each was watching for an unprotected spot in his
antagonist, while trying to expose himself as little as possible. They
probably had known each other for some time; they had most likely lived
for some months in the same barrack and been in daily intercourse; they
perhaps had made friends--if the occupation of a gladiator could leave
room for the feeling of friendship--and now they had but one idea: To
kill, in order not to be killed.
There was a loud ring of metal; Marcus had dealt the Cheruscan a
fearful blow on the helmet. Tumelicus nearly lost his balance; he
withdrew a step or two, anxiously screening himself with his shield.
Thus he recovered from the shock of the onslaught. He rushed forward,
and retorted with a still more tremendous stroke. His attack was better
than that of his opponent. The Suevian turned pale; the blow had
shattered his sword and so severely wounded his right-hand, that it
seemed impossible that he should defend himself any longer; he flung
away his shield without more ado. A roar of mocking laughter from
eighty thousand throats rent the air. He stretched out his arm and held
up his thumb, in token that he acknowledged himself beaten and implored
for mercy.
Fresh shouts of laughter! What, a man, whose clumsiness had so
shamefully shortened their entertainment, could hope for mercy! How
little he knew the Roman mob.
All the spectators' thumbs were turned down,[148] as if at a
preconcerted signal; there was not a single exception, and Leaina
even put out both her fat little hands glittering with rings, to give
emphasis to her demonstration.
Thumbs downwards, that meant death.
The hapless gladiator glanced despairingly upwards, as though to call
on Heaven and the future to avenge his miserable fate. He panted for
breath, and terrible anguish was depicted in his face. His thoughts
flashed back perhaps, in that instant, far away to his German home,
where a yellow-haired maiden sat sadly by the hearth, and his blind
old mother wept for his return; away to the hills of the Black Forest,
where in the happy days of his freedom, he had hunted the chamois and
the wild goat, or gathered the alpine rose for a wreath for that golden
head. He clenched his fist and his lips quivered. Then suddenly his
expression settled into dull resignation; he bent his head and silently
awaited his death-blow. He was too well schooled as a gladiator, not to
know that, by all the rules of the art, he must yield and die.
Tumelicus came up to do the office of executioner; he drove his knife
in just below the shoulder blade, into his antagonist’s heart. The
Suevian fell on his knees, gazing fixedly at the ground. The Cheruscan
slowly drew out his weapon, and a gush of blood sprinkled the victor
with its red flood.
The air shook with the storm of applause; the Emperor himself approved.
But it was especially the fairer portion of the spectators, who seemed
beside themselves with delight. Leaina clapped so indefatigably, that
it seemed doubtful whether she did it out of sheer pleasure, or rather
to display her round, plump arms. Lycoris too, naturally swam with the
stream, though less eagerly than her companion. She seemed somewhat
languid and indifferent to-day.
When the storm of plaudits had somewhat subsided, a handsome youth,
dressed as Mercury, appeared on the scene. He had silver sandals with
wings; he carried an iron staff, red-hot at one end. It was his duty to
touch the body of the fallen gladiator with the hot iron, to make sure
that life was extinct. The Suevian, however, seemed still to breathe,
though he had lost consciousness.
Mercury signed to a servant, who stood in the doorway with a shining
axe in his hand, ready to give the ‘_coup de grace_’ to the victim.
One mighty stroke--as a butcher might fell an ox--and all was over.
Immediately a second ruffian came forward with a harpoon in his
hand. He struck it into the bleeding corpse, with brutal force, and
the remains of the hapless Marcus were dragged away to the Porta
Libitinensis--the gate of the dead.
The whole scene was repeated twice more, and in neither case did
the people respite the conquered victim. They seemed possessed with
a special blood-thirstiness. It was not till the fourth scene, a
tilting-match, when a rider, who was a favorite with the women,
happened to be unhorsed, that their thumbs were turned up, so that the
admired and splendid champion, who had so often proved victorious and
the hero of many a gallant adventure, should be respited to achieve
future deeds of valor. His antagonist’s lance had pierced his thigh;
cries of "_Habet_,"[149] resounded from the upper galleries, and when
the women had pronounced in his favor, three slaves came forward and
carried him away with the utmost care.
These single combats on foot and horseback were only introductory. The
fights with wild beasts were now to begin. When the servants had strewn
the arena with sand[150] and, so far as possible, hidden the traces of
blood, the master of the ceremonies appeared once more, and proclaimed:
“The criminal, Calenus, condemned as a Nazarene, will fight with a
mountain lion from Gaetulia.”
“Calenus, a wretch--one of the brood of traitors,[151] and a contemner
of the gods!” said the stranger behind Lycoris.
The door opened, and two slaves led forward the tall, solemn figure of
the sightless man, with his long snow-white hair. He held in his hands
a wooden cross, the symbol of his faith, the only weapon that the
tyrant’s ferocity had vouchsafed him.
“He was a soldier,” their unknown informant whispered, “and often
punished for his insubordination. Let us see how he will behave himself
now!”
“How can he fight?” said Lycoris, “he is blind. Only see how helplessly
he stands there; he does not know which way to turn.”
“Blindness cannot save a criminal from punishment.”
“Punishment, by all means; but the master of the ceremonies said a
fight!”
“Well, and why not?” said the young man scornfully. “The Nazarenes
declare, that their cross is a mighty weapon, and that their God shows
them a path even in darkness.”
Lycoris turned away; her eye fell on Barbillus. The handsome and
expressive head of the oriental priest had a strange, fixed and
lifeless look. And, in truth, the scene, which was now going forward
in the arena, was well calculated to excite and impress such a man as
Barbillus. He, absolutely bereft of convictions, felt the power of
faith come home to his soul as a strange phenomenon. Brought up in
his early youth by priests, and then trained at Athens in philosophy
and sophistry, he had always been accustomed to regard everything
supernatural from the vantage ground of mere self-interested trickery.
The more devoutly and zealously his credulous followers gave themselves
up to this jugglery, the more convinced he felt, that all faith was the
result of a sickly hallucination--particularly in women, a disorder of
the system, which must be dissipated like mist by the rough breath of
reality. And that this ecstatic frenzy should carry grave and ripe men
so far, that they could cling to it in defiance of the law of the land,
and sacrifice their lives to a death of excruciating torment--this to
the sensitive physique of the Asiatic was astounding, shocking! It was
incomprehensible; a man--to all appearance a well-educated man, while
his lofty brow indicated superior capacity--and that man believed! That
man was at the point of death in witness of his belief--and he did not
even tremble.
Barbillus pressed his hand to his heart, which seemed to be rising into
his throat, and his breath rattled as he drew it.
The door, which barred the egress of the wild beasts from the dens,
now opened. A lion came bounding into the arena, paused, looked round
him, licked his fangs, and gave a mighty roar. Suddenly he started back
a step or two. Calenus, who till this minute had stood upright, had
dropped on to his knees; and clasping his cross with both hands, he
held it up towards heaven, praying audibly:
“Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour! behold me about to die for Thy
sake. And in dying I declare before all men: Thou alone art the Light
and the Truth. O God, my God, have mercy upon me, for Thy Son’s sake,
who died upon the cross for the redemption of the world.”
Dull murmurs, jeering laughter, and a few words of pity were heard as
the blind man ended his prayer. The priest of Isis had turned paler
than ever and perfectly rigid; he leaned forward; the veins in his
forehead swelled, and his lips quivered. A thousand dancing flashes
mocked his sight. His whole spirit was in torment under a fearful and
paralyzing vision.
The cross, which the blind-man raised skywards, seemed to grow till it
was four, five times as tall as the kneeling man. The galleries of the
amphitheatre were deserted. The senators and vestal virgins vanished
in smoke; the Sovereign of the World and his court were lost in thin
air; every living creature was swallowed up in the yawning depths of
a vast gulf. The splendid arcades were empty and silent, the marble
and stucco facings dropped away from the pillars, clinking as they
fell, till the rough masonry and brickwork of the main structure stood
unadorned and bare. Nettles, darnel and ferns sprouted from every seam.
Crows and daws fluttered in flocks from arch to arch, filling the air
with melancholy croaking--but still, down there in the arena, the cross
stood up on its stone plinth, the triumphant emblem of a despised
faith, whose adherents were torn to pieces to feast lions and tigers by
Caesar’s commands.
Barbillus sat gazing at the awful picture, that his brain had raised,
his eyes almost starting out of his head. He wanted to shriek, but he
was speechless; only a choked rattle came from his lips, a groan of
torture and terror. Utterly overpowered and bewildered, he covered his
face with his robe. A roar of applause roused him from his trance, and
he looked up once more. The hideous vision was gone. There sat Caesar
on his purple throne, and the wind still flapped the waving screen. A
hoarse growl resounded through the arena, the lion crouched for his
spring, and in a moment was standing victorious over the body of his
defenceless prey. Calenus was no more than a bleeding and lifeless mass.
Barbillus rose from his seat, tottering and half-stunned; the ground
seemed to burn under his feet. He hastily made his way out. "When,
when is this vision to be fulfilled?"[152] he asked in his trembling
soul. Then he rushed home, bolted himself up in his room, and wrote:
“I, Barbillus, the priest of Isis, saw on the second day of the secular
games, in the sixteenth year of Domitian, a wonderful vision--whether
sent me by the gods (if gods there be), or a trick played me by some
_daemon_. I thought I saw with these eyes things which were not there
to be seen....” So he wrote, and told his story.
In the Flavian Amphitheatre meanwhile--the Coliseum as it is now
called--the bloody festival goes on--only interrupted for a while by
the dinner-hour--till supper-time puts an end to it for to-day.[153]
Tired and exhausted, but not yet satiated with blood, the Roman people
withdraw to the triclinium, to discuss the incidents of the day over
sparkling Falernian or the muddy liquor of Veii. All are looking
forward to the morrow, for each day of this glorious festival is to be
more delightful than the last.
Lycoris and her friend went to Stephanus. Parthenius, Clodianus, and
the colonel of the body-guard, supped with Caesar. Rome was quiet,
Rome was happy. So, at least, said Clodianus in the speech in which he
proposed health to Caesar, the glorious president over these unequalled
centennial games, and drank it in Opimian wine.
FOOTNOTES:
[125] TO-DAY, THE SIXTH AFTER THE CALENDS. The first day of every
month was called Kalendae (from _kalare_, to proclaim). The
beginning of the month was originally fixed by the new moon.
An official, in later times the Pontifex Maximus, proclaimed
the appearance of the new moon from a house (_Curia Calabra_)
specially built for the purpose on the Capitoline Hill. The
days of the second half of the month were reckoned in such
a manner, that they were mentioned as before the calends of
the following month; for instance, the 24th of March was the
9th day before the calends of April. The day from which, and
the one to which the computation was made, were included in
the reckoning. The phrase used here, “the sixth day after the
calends, corresponds identically to no Latin form of speech.”
[126] THREE HUNDRED LIONS. "We are most amazed"--says
Friedländer--"at the number of animals of one species, as well
as the whole number of those belonging to different species,
gathered at the great Roman spectacles. These numbers sound
incredible; of course it must not be forgotten, that within
two thousand years the species of the large animals have
sustained a vast, scarcely computable diminution. Doubtless
Dio’s remark, that all such numbers are exaggerated, is
correct; but even after great reductions, nay, even if cut
down one half, they remain enormous. The spectacles exhibited
by Pompey and Caesar, are not only unsurpassed, but unequalled
in this respect. In the former 17 or 18 elephants, 500 or 600
lions, and 410 other African animals were displayed; in the
latter 400 lions and 40 elephants. Among the historians of the
empire, the statement is by no means rare that 100, 200 and
even 300 lions, 300, 400 and 500 bears, an equal number of
African wild beasts (and still larger numbers of the ordinary
kinds of animals) were exhibited or hunted at a single
spectacle. All the Zoological gardens in Europe at the present
day could be abundantly supplied with the animals gathered in
Rome for a single great festival. According to Augustus' own
statement--he took great pleasure in 'vast numbers of animals
and unfamiliar wild beasts'--3,500 African animals alone
perished in the 26 spectacles he gave. At the hundred-day
festival given by Titus in the year 80 to commemorate the
opening of the Flavian amphitheatre, 5,000 wild beasts of all
kinds were exhibited in a single day, and the whole number of
wild and tame ones killed reached 9,000."
[127] END OF THE GREAT FESTIVAL. The centennial games, so far as
we are informed, usually numbered only three festival days;
nothing however prevents the supposition that Domitian, by the
exercise of his sovereign will, might have made an exception.
[128] “COME HITHER TO SEE, WHAT NONE OF YOU HAS EVER YET SEEN,
OR EVER WILL SEE AGAIN!” Latin:--_quod nunquam quisquam
spectasset nec spectaturus esset_.
[129] STIBIUM. A cosmetic much used by the Roman ladies--a powder
made of baked antimony, known at the present day among the
orientals by the name of Surmé.
[130] FIRST THERE WAS THE GREAT PROCESSION FROM THE CAPITOL TO THE
CIRCUS MAXIMUS. The centennial games commenced with a festal
procession (called _pompa_) whose route corresponded with the
description given here, and which closed with the chariots,
that were to appear in the races in the Circus Maximus. These,
however, usually played a more conspicuous part than in our
story, where they are treated more as an introduction.
[131] THE CONSUL FLAVIUS CLEMENS. See note 137, Vol. I. Pyat has
made the fall of this (historical) Flavius Clemens the subject
of a novelette--unfortunately faulty in coloring--from which
I have used some outlines for my story. Flavius Clemens'
relations to Christianity are told by Dio Cassius, (LXVII,
14.) and Suet. (_Dom._ 15.)
[132] IVORY TICKETS OF ADMISSION. Such admission tickets (made also
of clay and metal) have been found in large numbers during the
excavations of the last decade.
[133] AN ATTENDANT IN A GAILY-COLORED HOLIDAY TUNIC, (_designator_)
corresponds with our box-opener or usher.
[134] THE CUSHIONS, WHICH A SLAVE HAD CARRIED IN FOR THEM. The
rows of seats consisted of marble blocks, which during the
spectacle were covered with cushions and seats of honor
(_bisellia_.)
[135] EVERY PART WAS AS GAY AS A FLOWER-GARDEN WITH GORGEOUS
DRESSES. Every one appeared at the public spectacles in full
gala dress. Those who possessed but _one_ toga sent it before
the festival to the fuller (_fullo_) to be cleansed and
smoothed. The fuller’s work is very clearly depicted in the
frescos on a fuller’s shop, excavated in Pompeii in 1826. See
note 33, Vol. II.
[136] THE GAUDILY-GILT PODIUM, KEPT FOR THE SENATORS. The senators
had special seats reserved for them at all public spectacles.
[137] BROKEN VOW. Concerning the broken vows of vestal virgins,
see Suet. _Dom._ 8. If the crime was discovered, Domitian's
government treated the culprit more harshly than those of
Vitellius and Titus, indeed the severity increased at each
instance. The vestals Ocellata and Varonilla were granted
the choice of the manner of death, but their betrayers
were exiled. In later times, however, Domitian ordered the
vestal Cornelia to be buried alive, and her lovers--for she
had several--to be flogged to death in the comitium. In
contradiction to this is the (perhaps incorrect) remark of Dio
Cassius (LXVII, 3) according to which Domitian, to his credit,
ordered that vestal virgins convicted of breaking their vows,
should not be buried alive, but sentenced to a less cruel
death.
[138] PULVINAR. Here a superb seat resembling a divan, is meant. See
Suet. A. 45, also see note 45, Vol. II.
[139] THE ENORMOUS CANVAS AWNING. The stone rings, into which these
masts were fastened, are still visible at the present day in
the walls of the Coliseum.
[140] TAUROMENIUM. A city on the eastern coast of Sicily, now
Taormina.
[141] THE TENTH OR TWELFTH SEAT FROM YOU. My story here allows both
sexes to be seated promiscuously, as was customary in the
circus. At the exhibitions in the amphitheatre, women had
places specially set apart. The license I have taken is the
more easily justified, because the disposal of seats in the
theatre was never strictly carried out, hence the frequency
of the complaint that people who had no right to the places,
crowded into those reserved for the knights.
[142] RHEGIUM. A city in the southern part of the Italian peninsula,
in the country of the Bruttii; now Reggio.
[143] MOVED THE WORLD BY A WINK OF HIS EYELASH. See Hor. _Od._ III,
1, V. 8; “_cuncia supercilio moventis_.” The words there refer
to Jupiter; but Domitian’s flatterers, especially Martial,
never wearied of deifying the emperor as a second Jupiter. See
Mart., _Ep._ V. 6, V. 9, and many others.
[144] AVE CAESAR! or _Ave Imperator_! (Hail to thee, oh Caesar!) The
emperor was greeted with these words whenever he appeared in
public, and replied by the phrase: _Avete vos_! (I greet you
also!) The word _Ave_! (Be greeted! Be blessed!) was also in
general use when persons met or took leave of each other.
[145] THE SEAT TO THE LEFT REMAINED VACANT. At public games, by
virtue of his office, the Flamen Dialis sat at the emperor's
left hand. See Suet, _Dom._ 4: “Beside him sat the priest of
Zeus.”
[146] AVE, CAESAR, MORITURI TE SALUTANT! The actual words with which
the gladiators destined for the approaching combat saluted the
sovereign.
[147] THE VICINITY OF THEIR FLATTERING GALLANTS. See note 141,
Vol. II, Ovid’s prescriptions, here mentioned, are found in
the _Ars amandi_, I, p. 135. Elsewhere (_Amores_ III. 2)
the same author gives us examples of a flattering gallant's
conversation with a fair neighbor.
[148] ALL THE SPECTATORS' THUMBS WERE TURNED DOWN. See note 23, Vol.
II.
[149] HABET! He is hit! was the usual acclamation from the audience,
when a blow struck home.
[150] WHEN THE SERVANTS HAD STREWN THE ARENA WITH SAND. See Mart.
_Ep._ II, 75, 5.
“For while two boys did rake the sandy floor,
With savage rage he both in pieces tore.”
[151] CALENUS, A WRETCH--ONE OF THE BROOD OF TRAITORS. The
expression is similar to the well-known “_sus de grege
Epicuri_.”
[152] “WHEN, WHEN IS THIS VISION TO BE FULFILLED?” Perhaps it will
not be superfluous to remark, that Barbillus here beholds
in imagination the Flavian Amphitheatre, as it afterwards
appeared in Catholic Rome--the mighty vine-grown ruins of
the Coliseum with the solitary cross in the grass-grown oval
of the arena. The Italian government has meantime somewhat
changed the picture, by removing the vegetation, which seemed
to endanger the venerable ruins by promoting the process of
disintegration--certainly to the detriment of the artistic
effect.
[153] TILL SUPPER-TIME PUTS AN END TO IT FOR TO-DAY. It is here
supposed, that the games only lasted until the hour for
the principal meal (doubtless delayed on these days). The
amusements at the centennial festivals and similar occasions
were, however, usually continued through the night.