 CHAPTER XIII. Before Flavius built the Coliseum, the Roman amphitheaters were mainly constructed of wood, hence nearly all of them were burned during the conflagration. Tro, however, ordered others to be erected in anticipation of the promised games. One among them, a gigantic structure, started immediately after the fire, was built of large beams taken from the slopes of the Atlas Mountains and transferred to Rome by sea and Tiber. The games were to surpass all previous records in magnitude and in the number of victims. Large spaces were provided for spectators and wild beasts. Examples of mechanics worked night and day, building and embellishing. Stories were told of wonderful pillars inlaid with bronze, amber, ivory, mother of pearl, and tortoise shells from beyond the seas. Long canals filled with ice water from the mountains were to run along the seats to distribute unagreeable coolness through the building during the most intense heat. A gigantic purple awning would give shelter from the rays of the sun. Even the rows of seats were to be placed vessels for the burning of Arabian perfumes. Above the seats would be fixed contrivances to sprinkle the spectators with a spray of saffron and verbena. The famous architects, Severus and Seller, employed their utmost skill in rearing an unequaled amphitheater which should accommodate a greater number of spectators than any hitherto erected. Hence, on the day set for the first morning game, crowds of idlers waited from early dawn for the opening of the gates. They listened with pleasure to the roars of lions, the horse snarling of panthers, and the howling of dogs. For two days food had been withheld from the beasts, though pieces of bloody flesh had been placed in their sight to increase their rage and hunger. At times such a storm of wild voices arose that the people, standing near the circus, could not hear one another's voices. The timid grew pale from fear. With the rising sun came other sounds from within the circus, loud yet peaceful, which were heard with astonishment by the outside listeners, who repeated among themselves, The Christians, the Christians! In fact, many had been brought during the night to the amphitheater, not all from one prison as previously arranged, but a few from all. The crowd knew that the spectacles would continue for weeks and months, but they disputed among themselves whether the great number of Christians intended for today's game could be dispatched in a single day. Voices of men, women, and children singing mourning hymns were so numerous that the knowing ones maintained that even if one or two hundred people were to be brought into the circus at one time, the beasts would become wearied, sated, and unable to tear them all to pieces before nightfall. Voices affirmed that the great number of victims would distract attention and would not yield proper enjoyment. As the moment approached for the opening of the corridors leading to the interior, the people, in a joyous and animated mood, fell to discussing a thousand subjects concerning the spectacle. Parties were formed who took sides as to the relative strength of the lions or the tigers. Here and there bets were made. Gladiators, however, turned their thoughts to the gladiators who had to appear in the arena in advance of the Christians. So other parties formed, some of whom favored the Samites and others the Gauls, some the Mermillions, others the Thrasians. Still others preferred the Net Bearers. Early in the morning detachments of a greater or smaller number of gladiators, under the command of masters called Lannis Stai, began to arrive at the amphitheater, not wishing to tire themselves out before the appointed time, they entered unarmed, frequently quite nude, often with green branches in their hands or garlands of flowers on their heads, young and beautiful in the light of morning and full of life. Their bodies, glistening from olive oil, were massive as if hewn out of marble. They were trained so as to please the people who were delighted with shapely forms. Many of them were known personally, and every moment cries resounded, greetings to thee, Furnius, greetings to Leo, greetings to Maximus, greetings to thee, Diomed. Young girls fixed upon them eyes full of love. The gladiators singled out the most beautiful, and replied to them jestingly as though no cares rested upon them, sending kisses and calling aloud, Embrace me, ere death embraces me, after which they disappeared through the gates, whence many of them never returned. But new batches drew the attention of the crowds. Behind the gladiators came the masticophory, or men armed with lashes whose occupation it was to whip and urge on the fighters. Then mules drew toward the side of the Spoliarum, long rows of wagons upon which were piles of wooden coffins. People were elated by this sight, for the many coffins foreshadowed the great number of victims in the games. After these followed people whose occupation it was to kill the wounded in the arena. They were dressed so as to resemble Charon and Mercury. After these came people who kept order in the circus, and showed their seats to the spectators, and then came slaves used for carrying food and cooling drinks, and at last the Praetorians, whom every Caesar had always on hand in the circus. At last the Vomitoria were opened and the throngs rushed to the center, but the multitude was so great that it flowed in for hours. It was a wonder that the amphitheater could hold such a countless throng. The roars of the wild beasts, senting the exhalations of humanity, grew louder. The people, as they took their places, made an uproar like waves in a storm. Finally the prefect of the city arrived, surrounded by guards, and after him filed in an unbroken line of the litters of senators, consuls, Praetorians, ediles, public and imperial officers, Praetorians, elders and patricians, and fine ladies. Some litters were preceded by lictors, bearing axes in bundles of rods, others by crowds of slaves. The guilt gleamed in the sunlight, as did the red and white liveries, feathers, earrings, jewels, and the steel of the axes. From the audience loud shouts greeted the arrival of imminent personages. Small detachments of Praetorians arrived from time to time. The priests of the various temples came later, followed by the Vestal Virgins, and preceded by lictors, and now the appearance of Caesar was the only thing wanted for the games to commence. Unwilling to annoy the audience by over much waiting, he arrived without delay, accompanied by Augusta and the Augustalis. Petronius was among the latter. In his litter was Vinicius. The latter knew that Ligia was sick and unconscious, but all access to the prison during the latter days had been strictly forbidden. New guards had been substituted for the old, with strict orders not to speak to the jailers, nor to communicate the least information to such as called to inquire about the prisoners. Hence, he could not be sure that she was not among the victims destined for the first day of the spectacle. A sick, even an unconscious woman could not be spared from the lions. The victims were to be sewed up in the skins of beasts and sent into the arena in crowds. No spectator could be sure that this or that person might not be among them, nor could any one of them be recognized. The jailers and all the servants of the amphitheater had been bribed, however. It had been arranged with the beastkeepers that Ligia should be hidden in some dark corner of the amphitheater, and at night delivered into the hands of a servant who should take her at once to the Albanian hills. Petronius, admitted to the secret, advised Vinicius to go openly with him to the theater, and after he had entered, to slip out and mix in with the crowd. Then he should hasten to the pit, and in order to avoid the possibility of a mistake, should point out Ligia to the guards. The guards admitted him through a small door through which they themselves had emerged. One of them, Cirrus by name, led him at once to the Christians. On the way, Cirrus said, I know not, master, if thou wilt find whom thou art seeking. We inquired for a maiden named Ligia. Nobody gave us an answer. It may be they do not trust us. Or there many of them, asked Vinicius, yea, master, but a number must wait until to-morrow. Or there any sick among them? None who could not stand on their feet? With these words Cirrus opened the door and entered into a spacious room, but low and dark. Gleams of light penetrated in it only through graded openings. The first Vinicius could see nothing. He heard only the murmur of voices and the shouts of people proceeding from the amphitheater. But after his eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness, he saw groups of strange beings in the guise of wolves and bears. They were Christians sewed up in the skins of beasts. Some were standing, others on their knees prayed. Here and there, by the long hair which flowed over the skin, one might discern that the victim was a woman. Those resembling wolves carried in their arms children sewed up likewise in hairy covering. But from beneath the skins appeared bright faces, eyes which in the darkness beamed with delight or with fever. It was evident that one thought dominated the greater part of those people, a thought above all earthly considerations, so that, while still among the living, they were unmindful of all that happened around them, or that might befall them. Some of whom Vinicius inquired looked on him with staring eyes, as if newly awakened from sleep and answered nothing. Others smiled at him, placing a finger to their lips, or pointing to the iron grating through which entered bright beams of light. Here and there children were crying, terrified by the roars of the wild beasts, the howling of the dogs, the uproar of the people, and the likeness to wild beasts borne by their own parents. Vinicius, walking beside Cirrus, scanned every face, searching, inquiring. At times he stumbled over the bodies of those who had fainted in the throng from the suffocating heat. He pushed on further into the dark depths of the room, which seemed to be as spacious as the whole amphitheater. Suddenly he stopped. It seemed to him that near the grating he heard a voice known to him. Listening for a while, he turned, pushed through the crowd, and approached the sound. The dim rays of light fell on the head of the speaker, and Vinicius recognized under the wolf's skin the emaciated and inexorable face of Crispus. Morn for your sins, cried Crispus, for the hour is at hand. Those who think that death will ransom sins commit a new sin, and will be cast into everlasting fire. By all the sins which ye have committed in life, ye have renewed the suffering of the Lord. How dare ye then think that the life which awaits ye will ransom sin? Today the righteous and the sinner will die together, but the Lord will distinguish his own. Woe to you! The claws of the lions will rend your bodies but not your sins, nor square your accounts with God. The Lord showed sufficient mercy when he permitted himself to be nailed to the cross, but from now on he will be only the judge who will leave no sin unpunished nor in arrears. Or over whoever thinks that torture will blot out his sin, blasphemes against divine justice, and only sinks deeper into sin. Mercy is at an end. The hour of God's wrath hath arrived. Soon ye will stand before the awful judge, before whom even the righteous can scarcely be justified. Bewail your sins, for the mouth of hell is open. And woe to you, husbands and wives! Woe to you, parents and children! Taking out his bony hands, he shook them above the bent heads, unterrified and inexorable, even in the presence of the death which in a little while all the condemned must meet. After he concluded voices were heard, we bewail our sins! Then came silence, only broken by the crying of children, and the beating of hands against the breast. The blood of Vinicius curdled in his veins. He who had placed all his hope in the mercy of Christ now heard that the day of wrath was at hand, and that mercy could not be obtained even by death in the arena, drew his head flashed quick as lightning, the thought that the Apostle Peter would have spoken otherwise to those about to die. Yet the terrible fanaticism of the words of Crispus, the dark room with its grating beyond which lay the field of torture, the nearness of it all, and the crowd of victims already destined for death, filled his soul with terror. While these things taken together seemed to him terrible, a hundred fold more horrible than the bloodiest battles in which he had ever taken part, the bad air and the heat stifled him, cold perspiration bedewed his forehead. He feared lest he might faint like those upon whose bodies he had stumbled when beginning his search in the depths of the room. But when he remembered that at any moment the grating might be opened, he began to call aloud for Ligia and Ursus in the hope that if not they, then some one of their acquaintance might answer. And in fact a man wrapped in a bear's skin pulled him by his toga and said, Lord, they remained behind in the prison. I was the last whom they led out, and I saw her lying sick on the couch. Who art thou, inquired Venisius? I am the quarryman in whose hut the Apostle baptized thee. They imprisoned me three days ago, and today I die. Ligius breathed more freely. When he entered he had expected to find Ligia, but now he was ready to thank Christ that she was not there, and behold therein a sign of his mercy. Meanwhile the quarryman pulled his toga again and said, Dost thou remember, master, that I conducted thee to the vineyard of Cornelius where the Apostle preached in the shed? I remember, answered Venisius. I saw him later on the day before they imprisoned me. He blessed me, and said that he would come to the amphitheater to bless the perishing. I should like to look at him at the moment I die, and see the sign of the cross. It would then be easier for me to die. If thou knowest, master, where he is, tell me." Venisius lowered his voice and said, He is among the people of Petronius disguised as a slave. I know not where they have chosen their places, but I will return to the circus and see. Look thou at me. When ye enter into the arena I will rise and turn my head toward the side where he is, thou wilt find him with thy eyes. I thank thee, master, and peace be with thee. May the Redeemer be merciful to thee. Amen." Venisius went out and entered the amphitheater where he took his place near Petronius in the midst of the other Augustallis. Is she there? asked Petronius. She is not there. They left her in prison. Remember what has occurred to me, but whilst thou art listening, look at Nigeria, for example, so that it may appear as though we were talking of her headgear. Tidilinas and Kylo are watching us at this moment. Listen again. Let them put Ligia in a coffin, and carry her out of the prison as a corpse. Thou canst guess the rest. Yes," answered Venisius. Further conversation was interrupted by Tullius Sinisio, who bending toward them, asked, Do you know whether they will arm the Christians? We do not know, answered Petronius. I should wish that arms were given to them, said Tullius. If not, the arena will soon become like a butcher's shambles, but what a splendid amphitheater! Truly the scene was magnificent. The lower seats crowded with senators in their togas were white as snow. In a gilded box sat Caesar, wearing a diamond, collar, and a golden wreath. At his side sat the beautiful but gloomy Augusta. And him were Vestal virgins, great officials, senators with embroidered mantles, officers of the army with glittering weapons. In a word, all there was in Rome a power, brilliancy, and wealth sat there. In the farther rose sat knights, higher up was a sea of heads. These were the common people. Above them, from pillar to pillar, hung garlands made of roses, lilies, ivy, and grapevines. People talked aloud, called to one another, sang, and at times burst out in laughter at some jest sent from row to row, or stamped impatiently for the beginning of the spectacle. The stamping became uproarious at last. Then the prefect of the city, who, with a retinue of brilliant followers, had already ridden around the arena, gave the signal with a handkerchief. It was answered from the amphitheater with exclamations of, ah, escaping from thousands of breasts. The games usually began with lions or other wild beasts pitted against various barbarians from the north and south. But this time beasts were not considered of sufficient account. The initial performance was given by gladiators called andabattis, that is, men wearing helmets without eye openings. Their names signified blindfolded. Scores of them entered the arena and together began to shake their swords in the air. The scourgers pushed them towards one another with long forks. The connoisseurs in the audience looked upon such proceeding with contempt, but the crowd was pleased with the quaint motions of the fencers. When the combatants happened to meet shoulder to shoulder, they laughed aloud, calling out, to the right, to the left, front! This was frequently and intentionally done to mislead the opponents. However, a number of pairs closed in, and the fight grew bloody. Then the clutching combatants cast aside their shields and extending their left hands to one another so as not to be separated again, they fought to the death. Whoever fell raised his fingers, a sign that he begged for mercy. But at the beginning of the spectacle the audience usually demanded death for the wounded, especially for those who were blindfolded and who were comparatively unknown to them. The number of the combatants was slowly reduced. When at last only two remained and were pushed together so that they should meet each other, both fell on the sand and stabbed each other reciprocally. Then amid cries of, It is finished! Slaves removed the corpses, while boys raked away the blood-stained sand in the arena and spread it over with crocus-leaves. A more important fight which was to follow aroused the attention not only of the rabble, but also of the better class of connoisseurs. Young patricians offered enormous bets, many risking all they had. From hand to hand were passed tablets upon which were written the names of the favorites, and also the amount of cisterces which each bet on his choice. The established champions who had already won their laurels found most backers. But there were among the betters many who posted considerable sums on new and unknown gladiators, hoping to win immense sums in case of success. All bet even Caesar himself. The priests, Vestal virgins, senators, knights, and the people bet. Some of the crowd who had no money often wagered their own freedom. Then they waited with agonized anxiety upon the issue of the fight, more than one loudly appealing for the protection of his favorite. When the shrill voice of the trumpets was heard, silence reigned in the amphitheater. Thousands of eyes turned towards the great bolts which a man approached dressed like Charon. Amid general silence he knocked thrice upon the door with a hammer as if calling to death those who were hid behind them. Then the two halves of the gate opened slowly, revealing a black gully whence the gladiators poured out into the bright arena. They came in divisions of twenty-five, Thracians, Mermilians, Samnites, Gauls, all heavily armed. In their rear followed the net-bearers, holding in one hand a net and in the other a trident. At sight of them applause broke out here and there on the benches to change speedily into an immense continuous storm. From top to bottom flushed faces were seen and clapping hands and open mouths whence issued loud shouts. The gladiators paraded the entire arena with even wiry steps, their rich gilt weapons glittering in the sun. Before Caesar's box they halted, proud, calm and brilliant. The shrill clamor of a horn silenced the applause, the combatants lifting their right hands and turning their heads and eyes towards Caesar, chanted in a monotonous sing-song, Hail Caesar the Emperor! We who are about to die salute thee!" Then they separated quickly, each occupying the place assigned to him in the arena. They were to fall on one another in whole sections, but at first the most renowned combatants were permitted to engage in single combats wherein strength, dexterity, and courage were best exhibited. From amongst the Gauls appeared a champion, well known to frequenters of the amphitheater under the name of Butcher. He had been a victor in many games. With a huge helmet on his head and a coat of mail fastened in front of his powerful breast and behind he looked in the golden light of the arena like a giant gold beetle. The equally powerful net-bearer Calindio appeared against him. The spectators began to bet, Five hundred Cisterces on the Gaul! Five hundred on Calindio! By Hercules a thousand! Two thousand! Meanwhile the Gaul had reached the center of the arena. He slowly backed away, a pointed sword in his hand. Lowering his head he carefully watched his opponent through the opening of his visor. The light and well-formed net-bearer naked save for a belt around his loins, circled nimbly around his antagonist, waving his net gracefully, lowering or raising his trident, and singing the customary song of the net-bearer, I do not seek thee, I seek a fish! Why dost thou flee from me, O Gaul? But the Gaul was not fleeing. He soon stopped, and standing in one place began to turn slowly so as to keep his enemy always in sight. In his form and enormous head was now something terrible. The spectators fully understood that the heavy man encased in bronze was preparing for a sudden leap which would decide the battle. The net-bearer, meanwhile, sprang up to him, then sprang back, handling his trident so dexterously that the spectators could with difficulty follow his motions. The sound of the trident's teeth striking the shield was repeatedly heard. Yet the Gaul did not quail, thus demonstrating gigantic strength. All his attention seemed to be concentrated, not on the trident, but on the net, continually circling above his head like a bird of ill omen. The spectators held their breath as they followed the masterly play of the gladiators. The butcher bided his time, then rushed upon his enemy. The latter, with equal speed, shot past his sword, raised his arms, straightened himself and threw the net. The Gaul, turning where he stood, caught the net on his shield, then both sprang aside. From the amphitheater thundered the shouts of Makti! On the lower rows new bets were made. Caesar himself, who, from the beginning, had been talking to the Vestal Virgin, Rubria, and up to this time had paid little attention, now turned his head towards the arena. Now they began to struggle again, with such uniformity and precision that it seemed as though they cared not for life or death, but only for the exhibition of their skill. The butcher escaped twice more from the net, and again retreated towards the border of the arena. Even those who had bet against him, not wishing him to rest, began to shout, Attack! The Gaul obeyed and attacked. The net-bearer's arm was suddenly covered with blood and his net dropped. The Gaul gathered up all his strength and leaped forward to deliver the finishing stroke, but at that instant Calindio, who had intentionally made it appear as though he could no longer manage the net, bent aside, thus evading the thrust and ran his trident between the knees of his opponent, bringing him down. The butcher strove to rise, but in the twinkling of an eye the fatal meshes closed over him, and with every motion he entangled still more his powerful hands and legs. Repeated stabs of the trident pinned him to the ground. Once more he raised himself by his arm, and endeavored to rise, but in vain. Lifting to his head his weakened hand, which could no longer hold the sword, he fell on his back. Calindio pressed his neck down to the ground with the teeth of his fork, and leaning with both hands on its hilt, turned towards Caesar's box. The whole circus trembled with the applause and the roar of the people. Those who had bet on Calindio held him, at that moment, greater than Caesar himself. But this fact banished all hatred towards the Gaul, for at the cost of his own blood their purses were to be filled. The wishes of the people were divided. On all the benches signs were shown, half of them were for death and half for mercy, but the net-bearer only looked to where sat Caesar and the Vestals waiting for their decision. Unfortunately Nero hated the butcher, for at the last game before the fire he had bet against him with Licinius and lost a considerable sum. He therefore stretched out his hand and turned down his thumb. The Vestals repeated the sign at once. Calindio knelt on the breast of the Gaul, pulled out a short knife from his belt, drew aside the armor around the neck of his opponent, and ran the three-edged knife into his throat up to the hilt. It is finished, resounded from all sides of the amphitheater. The butcher quivered for a moment like a stabbed ox dug the sand with his feet, stretched and ceased to move. There was no need for Mercury to try with a heated iron if he were yet alive. He was disentangled from the net. Other couples appeared. After them, old detachments fought in battles. The audience took part in them with soul, heart and eyes. Howlings, roaring, whistling, applause and laughter urged on the combatants to madness. On the arena the gladiators, dividing into two companies, fought with the fury of wild beasts. Breasts struck breast, bodies were intertwined in deadly embrace, strong limbs cracked in their sockets. Swords were driven into breasts and stomachs. Pale lips spat blood upon the sand. Many novices were seized with sudden fear so that they fled away from the confusion, but the scourgers drove them back again with lead-tipped lashes. On the sand formed great dark spots, an increasing number of dead, naked and armed bodies lay stretched out like sheaves of corn, whereon the living still kept up the fight. They stumbled against armor and shields, cut their feet with the broken blades of weapons and fell. The crowd lost its self-possession in pure delight. Intoxicated with death, they sated their eyes with the sight of it and drew into their lungs its exhalations with delight. Of the conquered almost all lay dead. A mere handful of the wounded knelt in the middle of the arena and tremblingly stretched out their hands to the audience, praying for mercy. The victors were rewarded with reeds and olive branches. A moment of rest followed, which at the command of the all-powerful Caesar changed into a feast. Perfumes were burned in vases, sprinklers sprayed upon the people saffron and violet water. Cooling refreshments were brought, roasted meat, sweet cakes, olives, and fruit. The people ate, talked and shouted in honor of Caesar to incline him to greater liberality. Then when they had appeased their hunger and quenched their thirst, hundreds of slaves brought baskets full of gifts, from which boys, dressed as cupids, took various things in both hands and threw them among the people. With the appearance of lottery tickets in the distribution, a scuffle began. People pushed, upset, and trampled on one another. They cried for help, jumped over rows of seats, stifled one another in the terrible throng. For whoever captured a lucky number might win a house and garden, a slave, a fine habit, or a wild beast, which he could afterwards sell to the amphitheater. This was the frequent cause of disorders so great that very often the Praetorians were obliged to interfere and restore order. After each distribution, people were carried out with broken limbs, and some were trampled to death in the crowd. But the rich took no part in the scramble for lottery tickets. The Augustalis now amused themselves with the sight of Kylo, making vain efforts to show that he could look on fighting and bloodshed as undisturbed as anybody. From the beginning the unfortunate Greek had begun to wrinkle his brow, bite his lips, and squeeze his fists so that the nails entered his flesh. His Greek nature and his personal cowardice equally unfitted him to bear such a sight. His face paled, his brows were covered with drops of perspiration, his lips became blue, his eyes sunk, his teeth shattered, and his body trembled. At the end of the fight he recovered somewhat, but when they showered jests upon him he was seized with sudden anger and defended himself desperately. Ah, Greek, the sight of the tearing of human skin was unbearable, said Vinicius, pulling him by the beard. Kylo exposed his last two yellow teeth and snarled out, and my father was not a shoemaker, I cannot mend it. Well done, he had hit it! answered several voices, but others continued the rallying. It is not his fault that instead of a heart he has a piece of cheese in his breast, cried Sinicio, neither is it thy fault that instead of a head thou hast to bladder, answered Kylo. Perchance thou wilt become a gladiator, thou wouldst look well with a net in the arena. Should I happen to catch thee with it, I should catch stinking carry on. And how would it fare with the Christians, asked Festus of Liguria, wouldst thou not like to be a dog, so that thou mightest bite them? I would not wish to be thy brother. Thou, meyoshian copper-nose, thou Ligurian mule, evidently thy skin is itching, but I do not advise thee to ask me to scratch it. Scratch thyself. If thou scratch thy pimple, thou wilt destroy the best in thee. In such fashion they attacked him, and thus he defended himself viciously amid general laughter. Caesar, clapping his hands, repeated, good, and urged them on. Then Petronius approached, touching the Greek side with his ivory cane, he said, "'Tis well, philosopher, but in one thing only thou errs'd. The gods made thee a pickpocket, but thou hast become a demon, and therefore thou canst not bear it.' The old man gazed at him with his reddened eyes. This time he was not ready with an insulting reply. After a silence he said, lamely enough, "'I shall endure.'" Meanwhile the trumpets announced the end of the intermission. The people began to leave the passage where they had assembled to stretch out their limbs and hold converse. A general movement began, with the wanted dispute about seats previously occupied. Others and patricians hurried to their places. The noise ceased at last, and the amphitheater returned to order. On the arena was a crowd of people engaged in digging out here and there lumps composed of sand and blood. The turn of the Christians arrived. This was quite a new spectacle to the people. No one could foresee how they would comport themselves. All awaited them with a certain curiosity, expectant of something unusual. So here were the incendiaries of Rome, the destroyers of its ancient treasures. They had drunk the blood of infants, and poisoned the waters. They had cursed the whole human race, and committed the most heinous atrocities. The greatest punishments were not great enough for their crimes. What the people feared was that the tortures provided for the Christians might fall below the enormity of their guilt. Meanwhile the sun had risen high, and its rays, passing through the purple awning, filled the amphitheater with a bloody light. The sand assumed a fiery color. There was something terrible in those gleams of light, in the inflamed faces of the people, and in the very arena, empty now, but soon to be crowded with people and savage beasts. Death and terror pervaded the air. The throng, usually joyous, grew sullen under the influence of their hate. Their faces wore angry expressions. The Prefect gave a sign, Charon, the who had summoned the gladiators to death, reappeared, and, walking with steady steps around the arena, amid perfect silence, struck three times with a hammer on the door. Throughout the amphitheater ran a deep murmur. The Christians, the Christians! The iron gratings creaked. From the dark openings came the usual cry of the scourgers, to the sand! The next moment the arena was peopled with satyr-like groups covered with skins. All ran quickly, feverishly, and when they reached the middle of the circus, fell on their knees together and raised their hands. The people, conceiving this to be a prayer for pity, began to stamp, whistle, and throw empty wine-vessels and clean-picked bones, vociferating the beasts, the beasts! Then an unexpected thing happened. From the midst of the shaggy group, voices were heard in song. For the first time in the Roman circus, the hymn arose. Christus Regnate, Christ Reigns. Astonishment fell upon the people. The victims sang with eyes raised to the awning. The spectators saw pale faces full of ecstasy. It was plain enough now that these people were not craving mercy. Apparently they saw neither the circus nor the people, neither the Senate nor Caesar. Christ Reigns sounded louder, and the spectators all the way to the topmost rows inquired of themselves. What is going on? And who is that Christus who reigns, as is asserted by these people about to die? Meanwhile another grating opened. Into the arena rushed dogs, madly barking great packs of dogs, huge yellow melossians from the Peloponnesus, pied dogs from the Pyrenees, and wolf-like dogs from Ireland, all purposely famished. Lean with bloodshot eyes, their barks and howls filled the amphitheater. The Christians, having finished their songs, remained on their knees, motionless as statues of stone, only repeating with doleful intonation, for Christ, for Christ, the dogs scented human beings beneath the animal skins. Surprised at their silence, however, they did not venture at first to throw themselves on the martyrs. Some leaned against the walls of the boxes as though they intended to go among the spectators. Others ran around barking furiously as if chasing some invisible enemy. The people were angry, a thousand voices shrieked, some roaring like beasts, others barking, others urging on the dogs in various languages. The maddened dogs would run against the kneeling Christians only to draw back again, gnashing their teeth. Finally, one of the melossians drove his fangs into the skin-covered shoulder of a woman kneeling in front and dragged her under him. At this, a number of dogs threw themselves upon the Christians. The mob ceased its tumult to observe the better. Amid the canine howling and snarling, the plaintive voices of men and women crying, for Christ, for Christ, were still audible. The arena was now a quivering mass of dogs and people, blood streamed from the torn bodies, dogs snatched from one another bloody members of the human body. The odor of blood and torn entrails was stronger than the Arabian perfumes and filled the whole circus. At last only here and there were to be seen a few kneeling forms, but even these soon changed into squirming masses. Vinicius, at the first entry of the Christians, had arisen and turned his head, according to his agreement with the quarrymen, to that side where Peter sat among Patronius's people. He now sat gazing with glassy eyes at the awful spectacle. At first he feared that the quarrymen might have been mistaken, and that Ligia might be among the victims. This thought benumbed his heart, but when he heard the voices crying for Christ, when he witnessed the torture of so many victims, who, dying, acknowledged their faith and their God, he could not drive back other feelings which pierced him with the most poignant agony. If Christ himself had died in torture, if thousands were following him, if a sea of blood was to be poured out, what mattered one little drop more? Would it not be almost a sin to ask for mercy? That thought came to him from the arena, pervaded with the groans of the dying and the odor of their blood. Nonetheless, he prayed on and repeated through his parched lips, oh Christ, oh Christ, thy apostle hath prayed for her. Then he forgot himself and lost consciousness of his surroundings. It seemed to him only that the blood on the arena was rising, and would soon overflow the whole city of Rome. He was deaf now to everything, to the howling of the dogs, the clamor of the people, and the voices of the Augustalis, who suddenly called out, Kylo has fainted. Kylo has fainted, repeated Petronius, turning towards the place where the Greek sat. He really had fainted. He sat there as white as a sheet, his head thrown backwards, his mouth wide open, in corpse-like immobility. At that very moment, new victims sewed up in skins for being driven into the arena. They knelt immediately in the same manner as their predecessors, but the worn-out dogs were loathed to rend them, only a few threw themselves on those kneeling nearby. Others lay down and opening their bloody jaws, scratched their sides and yawned wearily. The audience, restless in soul, but drunk and maddened with blood, began shouting with shrill voices, lions, lions, let loose the lions! The lions had been destined for the following day, but in the amphitheater the people's will was paramount even over Caesar's. Caligula alone, arrogant and fickle-minded, dared to oppose them. There were times when he gave orders to beat the crowd with sticks, but even he was often obliged to give way. Nero, however, to whom applause was dearer than anything else in the world, never opposed them. This time he was more lenient than ever, because he wished to appease the angry crowd and lay upon the Christians the blame for the conflagration. Therefore he gave the signal for the opening of the lion's dens, an act which calmed the people immediately. The creaking of the gates was heard. The dogs, at sight of the lions, huddled together, whimpering, on the opposite side of the ring. The lions stalked into the arena, one after another. They were tawny monsters with shaggy heads. Even Caesar turned towards them his weary face and placed the emerald to his eye to see better. The Augustalis greeted them with applause. The crowd counted them on their fingers, eager at the same time to note the impression which the lions would make on the Christians, who kneeling in the center again repeated the words, For Christ, for Christ! But the lions, though hungry, did not hasten towards the victims. The red gleam on the arena had dazzled them so that they half closed their eyes. Some stretched their yellow bodies lazily, others opened their jaws and yawned, as if to show the spectators their terrible teeth. But soon the odor of blood and the torn bodies, a number of which still lay on the arena, appealed to them. They became restless, their mains rose, their nostrils grew in the air with a snort. One of them made a sudden dash on the body of a woman with a torn face. Lying with his forepaws on the body, he licked the coagulated blood with his rough tongue. Another approached a Christian holding in his arms a child sewed up in a fawn's skin. The child shivered and wept, convulsively embracing his father's neck, who, wishing to prolong the infant's life, if only for a moment, endeavored to tear it away so that he might hand it over to those kneeling farther on. The noise and movement excited the lion. He emitted a short, sharp roar, killed the child with one blow of his paw, brought the father's head between his jaws and crushed it in the twinkling of an eye. This was the signal for all the other lions to fall upon the Christians. Some women could not restrain cries of terror. The cries were drowned in the applause. This soon ceased. The desire to see overcame everything else. Then began terrible scenes. Heads disappeared entirely in the lion's jaws. Breasts were opened by one blow of the paw. Hearts and lungs were dragged out. The crunching of bones was heard under the fangs of the lions, who, seizing the victims by the sides or back, ran around with mad leaps as though in search of hiding places wherein to devour them undisturbed. Other lions fought together, rearing on their hind legs, clasped one another with their paws like wrestlers, filling the amphitheater with thunderous roars. Some of the audience stood up, others left their seats to reach the lower parts of the rose for a closer view. When they were crowded to death, it seemed as though the excited spectators would end by throwing themselves into the arena to join the lions in tearing the Christians. At times unearthly noises were heard, at others applause. Then came roaring and rumbling, the gnashing of teeth, the howling of the Melossian dogs, and at intervals only the groaning of the martyrs could be heard. Caesar, holding the emerald to his eye, renewed his attention. This assumed an expression of disgust and contempt. Kylo had already been born out of the circus. Fresh victims were driven into the pit. From the upper tier of seats the Apostle Peter looked on. No one saw him, for all had their heads turned towards the arena. He rose to his feet, and as once before, in the vineyard of Cornelius, he had blessed for death and eternity the hunted fugitives. So now he blessed with the sign of the cross those who were in the clutches of the wild beasts, blessed their blood, their torture, their dead bodies changed into shapeless lumps, their souls flying upward from the blood-soaked sand. Some of the martyrs raised their eyes to him, their faces brightened up with a smile as they caught sight of the sign of the cross high above them. But Peter's heart was torn as he cried out, O Lord, thy will be done, for thy glory, for the testimony of the truth, these my sheep are perishing. Thou hast commanded me to feed them, for this reason I give them to thee. Yea, to thee, count them, O Lord, take them, heal their wounds, assuage their pain, let their recompense be far greater than their torture. And he blessed one after another, group after group, with loving compassion as of a father surrendering his own children into the hands of Christ. Then Caesar, spurred by madness or the desire that the spectacle should surpass all others ever seen in Rome, whispered a few words to the prefect of the city, who thereupon left Caesar's box and went at once to the dens. Even the populace were astonished when next moment they heard again the sound of the opening of the gates, and now all kinds of wild beasts were let out, tigers from the banks of the Euphrates, panthers from Numidia, bears, wolves, hyenas, and jackals. The whole arena seemed turned into moving billows of striped yellow, fallow, black, brown, and spotted skins. Then followed confusion, in which the eye could distinguish nothing save the horrible turning and twisting of the backs of the wild beasts. The spectacle lost the aspect of reality, and turned into an orgy of blood, a terrible dream, a prodigious panorama of bewildered fancy. All records were surpassed. Above the roars and howlings and yells rose, shrill and piercing the hysteric laughter of women, whose nerves had given way under the strain. The people were horrified, their faces grew dark, and voices were heard saying, enough, enough! But it was easier to let loose the beasts than to beat them back. Caesar, however, found a means of clearing the arena, and starting a new amusement for the people. In all sections, in the midst of the benches, appeared detachments of black Numidians, adorned with feathers and earrings, with bows in their hands. The people guessed what was coming, and greeted the archers with a shout of satisfaction. The Numidians approached the circle, adjusted their arrows to the strings, and shot them into the crowd of beasts. That was indeed a new spectacle. Their shapely black bodies bending backwards stretched the elastic bows and dispatched shaft after shaft. The snapping of the strings and the whistling of the feathery darts mingled with the howling of the wild beasts, and the shouts of admiration from the spectators. Wolves, bears, panthers, and such of the martyrs as were still living fell side by side. Here and there a lion, feeling a dart in his side, turned suddenly, with mouth wrinkled from rage, trying to snatch and break the shaft. Other lions groaned from pain. The smaller beasts, panic-stricken, ran aimlessly around the arena, or thrust their heads between the gratings. Meanwhile the arrows whizzed on till every living thing went down in the last agony of death. Then hundreds of slaves streamed into the arena, armed with spades, shovels, brooms, wheel-barrows, baskets for carrying out entrails, and sacks of sand, crowd after crowd of them, and over the whole circle there was a seething fever-like activity. The space was soon cleared of corpses, blood, and refuse, was dug over, made even, and spread with thick layers of new sand. Cupid's ran in, scattering rose-leaves, lilies, and various other flowers. The censors were lighted again, and the awning was removed, for the sun was now sinking. The crowd looked at one another with surprise, asking what new spectacle was still in store for them, and indeed it was a spectacle which none had expected. Caesar, who some time before had left his box, appeared suddenly on the flower-strewn arena, arrayed in a golden mantle and crowned with a golden wreath. He was followed by twelve choristers, with lutes in their hands. In his own hand he held a silver lute. Advancing with solemn step to the center, he bowed his head several times, raised his eyes toward the sky, and remained in that posture for a while, as though waiting for inspiration. Then he struck the strings and began to sing. Oh radiant son of Leto, ruler of Tenedos, Caos, and Crisos, art thou he who guards over the sacred city of Ileon, couldst thou yield to a keen anger to bespatter the sacred altars, burning continually in thy worship with trojan blood, the aged rays trembling hands to thee. Two. Oh thou silver-bowed, far-reaching archer, to thee mothers from the depths of their bosoms lift up tearful voices to have pity on their children, complaints that would move a stone, but thou art less feeling that a stone, oh smintheous, to the people's woes. The song passed gradually into a plaintive recital full of pain and dullful as an elegy. This reigned in the circus. After a while Caesar himself was touched, and he resumed his song. Three. Thou art abled with thy divine sounds to silence the lament of the heart, when the eye is yet to day filled with tears as a rose with dew, at the dovel sounds of thy songs, who can rescue from dust and ashes the conflagration and calamity of that day, smintheous, where would thou then? His voice quivered, and his eyes moistened. On the eyelids of the vestal's tears appeared. The people listened in silence, which was followed by prolonged applause. Meanwhile, from the outside, through the opening of the dens, were heard the creaking of the wheels upon which the bleeding parts of the Christians, men, women, and children, were to be taken to the dreadful places known as the putrid pits. The apostle Peter seized his white, trembling head with both hands, and groaned in spirit. Lord, Lord, he cried, to whom hast thou given dominion over the world? Why wilt thou establish thy capital in this place? Part 3, Chapter 14 of Quo Vadis, a tale of the time of Nero. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Quo Vadis by Henrik Singkevich, translated by Binyon and Malevsky. Part 3, Chapter 14. Meanwhile the sun descended towards its setting, appearing to melt in the red of the evening. The spectacle was at an end. The crowd began to quit the amphitheater for the city, through the gates called Vomitoria. The Augustalis were the only ones who tarried. They remained for the sea-like crowd to pass. A large number of them left their seats and proceeded to the box where Caesar showed himself anew, eager for their praises. The public had not applauded him immediately after the termination of his song as much as he had expected. This was not enough for him. He had expected enthusiasm bordering on frenzy. Vanely now did hymns of praise sound in his ears. The vestals kissed his divine hand in vain, while Rubria bowed so low that her red hair touched his breast. Nero was not satisfied, and could not hide his chagrin. He was both astonished and disquieted because Petronius kept silent. Praises or favorable criticism from his mouth would have afforded great comfort at that moment. Finally, unable to restrain himself, Caesar beckoned to him and said, "'Tell me!' Petronius answered calmly, "'I am silent because I can find no words. Thou hast surpassed thyself. "'So it seemed to me, but that crowd of people, "'cant thou expect mongrels to be judges of poetry? "'But thou also hast noticed that they did not thank me as much as "'I deserved, because thou hast chosen a bad moment. "'Why?' When their brains were affected by the odor of blood "'and they were unable to listen attentively, Nero clenched his fists and answered, "'Ah, those Christians, they burned Rome and hurt me now! "'What new punishment should I devise for them?' Petronius perceived that he had taken the wrong track and that his words had produced an effect opposite to his intentions. In order to divert Caesar's mind into another channel, he bent to him and whispered, "'The song is wonderful, but I will venture one remark "'in the fourth line of the third strophe the meter left something to be desired.' Nero, blushing with shame as though he had been caught in an infamous act, looked alarmed and answered also in a whisper, "'Thou have serviced everything. I know, I will write it again. But has anyone else noticed it? No, I command thee to tell it to nobody if life is dear to thee.' Upon this Petronius furrowed his brow and answered as though he were vexed and disaffected. "'Thou mayest, O divinity, condemn me to death if I deceive thee, but do not terrify me. The gods know best if I fear thee.' Saying this, he looked straight into Caesar's eyes, who, after a while, returned, "'Be not angry, thou knowest I love thee.' "'A bad sign,' thought Petronius. "'I wish to invite thee to-day to a feast,' continued Nero, but I wish first to lock myself in and polish the cursed fourth line of the Third Strophe. Seneca and Perchance Secundus Carinas may have noticed it as well as thou, but I shall quickly read myself of both.' He summoned Seneca and informed him that he would be sent with Aquitus and Secundus Carinas to Italy, and to other provinces for money which he was to draw from cities, villages, and famous sanctuaries. In a word he was to get money wherever it could be obtained and by whatever means. Seneca, understanding that Caesar entrusted him with a work of plunder, sacrilege, and murder, refused flatly. "'Lord,' he said, "'I must go to the country, and there await death, for my years are many and my nerves are shattered.'" Seneca's Iberian nerves were stronger than those of Kylo, and were hardly shattered, perhaps, but in general his health was poor. He looked like a shadow, and his hair had lately grown entirely white. Nero, looking at him, thought that he would not have to wait long for his death, and said, "'If thou art really ill, I do not wish to expose thee to the perils of the journey, but because of my love for thee, I wish to have thee within call. Therefore, instead of going to the country, thou wilt stay in thine own house and not leave it.'" He laughed and added, "'If I send Acratus and Carinas alone, it will be like sending wolves after sheep, whom shall I place above them?' "'Put me above them,' said Domitius Arthur. "'No, I do not wish to bring upon Rome the wrath of Mercury, whom ye would shame with your thievery. I need a stoic like Seneca, or like my new friend, the philosopher Kylo.'" Here Nero looked around and asked, "'What has happened to Kylo?' Kylo, who had come to his senses in the open air, and had returned to the amphitheater to hear Caesar's song, approached and said, "'Here I am, O radiant dwarf-spring of the sun and moon. I was ill, but thy song cured me. "'I will send thee to Acchia,' said Nero, "'doubtless thou knowest to a copper the amount in each temple. So be it, Zeus. The gods will grant thee tribute greater than they have ever given before. "'I would, but I do not wish to deprive thee of the sight of the games.' "'O bail!' said Kylo. The Augustali overjoyed that Caesar's return to good humour laughed and exclaimed, "'No, Lord, deprive not this brave Greek of the sight of the games. But preserve me, O Lord, from the sight of these strident geese of the capital whose brains all put together would not fill a nutshell,' retorted Kylo. "'O firstborn of Apollo, I am composing a Greek hymn in Diana, and I would feign spend a few days in the temples of the muses to beg for inspiration.' "'Nay!' exclaimed Nero, "'thou desirest to escape the next games. That will not do. "'I swear, Lord, that I am composing a hymn. "'Thou canst write it at night. "'Beseech Diana for inspiration. She is Apollo's sister.' Kylo bowed his head. He gazed angrily around, while all again burst into laughter. Caesar addressed himself to Sinicio and Seulia's near-aligness. "'Just think! That are the Christians allotted for today! We have hardly disposed of half!' Hearing this, old Aquilis Regulus, who was a great critic of all things pertaining to the amphitheater, bethought himself for a time, and said, "'Spectacles, in which the performers appear unarmed and without skill, endure almost as long as the others and are less interesting.' "'I shall command that the rest of the Christians be armed!' replied Nero. But the superstitious Vestinius, suddenly rousing himself from a reverie, inquired in a mysterious voice, "'Have you taken notice that dying? These people see something? They gaze upward, and one would say that they perish without suffering. Surely they see something!' He raised his eyes towards the opening of the amphitheater, over which night had spread its star-screwed curtain, but others laughed and gested at the thought of what the Christians might see at the point of death. Then Caesar gave a signal to the torchbearers and left the circus. After him followed officials, Vestals, Senators, and Augustalis. It was a bright warm night. In front of the circus were crowds of people who had remained to witness Caesar's departure. All were morose and silent. Occasional applause was heard, but it ceased immediately. Creaking carts laden with the bloody remains of Christians, issued from the gates. Petronius and Venisius made their way homeward in silence. Only when approaching his villa did Petronius inquire, as though thought over what I said to thee. Yes, replied Venisius. Does thou understand that for me also this is an affair of the greatest moment? I must free her in spite of Caesar and Tijellinus. It is a battle wherein I must conquer, a game which I must win even at the price of my life. This day has only strengthened my resolve. May Christ reward thee. Thou wilt see. They had now reached the door of the villa, as they left the litter a dark figure confronted them, asking, Is this the noble Venisius? Yes, answered the Tribune. What is thy wish? I am Nazarius the son of Miriam. Come from the prison to bring thee news of Ligia. Venisius laid his hand on the young man's arm. He looked in his eyes by the gleam of the torch, powerless to speak a word. Nazarius guessed the question dying upon his lips, and made answer. She is still alive. Ursus sent me to thee master to tell thee that she prays in her fever and repeats thy name. Praise be to Christ who may return her to me, exclaimed Venisius. Then he led Nazarius to the library. Soon Petronius entered also to take part in the conversation. Her illness saved her from dishonor because the executioners were afraid, said the boy. Ursus and Glaucus watch over her day and night. Or the guards the same. Yes, master, and she is in their room. All the prisoners in the lower dungeon died of fever or were suffocated by the foul air. Who art thou? asked Petronius. The noble Venisius knows me. I am the son of the widow with whom Ligia lived. Art thou a Christian also? The boy cast an inquiring glance at Venisius. Seeing that he was praying, he lifted his head and answered, Yay, master, how is it that thou art allowed free access to the prison? I was engaged, master, to carry out the bodies of the dead. I hired myself with a view of aiding my brethren and bringing them news from the city. Petronius carefully scrutinized the handsome face of the boy, his blue eyes and dark hair. Finally he asked, Where art thou from, my lad? I am a Galilean, master. Wouldst thou like to see Ligia free? The boy raised his eyes, even if I died the next moment. Venisius finished his prayer and said, Tell the guards to place her in a coffin as if dead. Thou wilt seek some helpers to bear her out in the night with thee. Near the putrid pits thou wilt find men waiting with a litter. Give them the coffin. Tell the guards I promise them as much gold as each can carry in his mantle. As he spoke, his face lost its usual pallor, and the soldier awoke in him, to whom hope brought courage. Nazarius, overjoyed, raised his hands with the cry, May Christ restore her health, for she will be free. Dost thou believe that the guards will consent? asked Petronius. Yes, master, if they knew that they would not meet with punishment and torture. True, said Venisius, the guards would even consent to her flight. All the more will they let us carry her out as a corpse. There is a man, said Nazarius, who discovers by means of a red-hot iron whether the bodies that we remove are really lifeless, but he will take a few cesterces not to touch the face of the dead. For one gold piece he would touch the coffin and not the body. Tell him that he will get a bag full of gold pieces, said Petronius, but canst thou find trustworthy helpers? I can find men who, for money, would sell their own wives and children. Where wilt thou find them? In the prison itself or outside of it. Once the guards are bribed they will admit any one I wish. Then take me and the guys of a servant, said Venisius. But Petronius dissuaded him from this course. The Praetorians might recognize him even in disguise, and this would bring failure upon the Enterprise. Go neither to the prison nor to the putrid pits, he said. It is necessary that all, including Caesar and Tijellinus, should be convinced that she had really died. Otherwise they would order immediate pursuit. We can allay suspicion only by staying in Rome, while she is being removed to the Alban Hills or even farther to Sicily. A week or two later thou wilt fall sick and summon Nero's physician, who will prescribe for thee the mountain air. There thou wilt join her, and afterwards, he mused a little, then waving his hand, he continued, afterwards the times may change. May Christ have mercy on her, said Venisius, thou speakest of Sicily while she is ill and may die. We can keep her nearer at first. The air alone will cure her, if we could but get her out of prison. Is there no one in the mountains whom thou canst trust? Yes, replied Venisius, not far from Corioli is a trustworthy man who used to carry me in his arms when I was a mere child and who loves me still. Petronius handed him some tablets. Write him to come here to-morrow. I will send a messenger at once. Then he summoned the chief of the hall and gave him the necessary orders. A few moments later a mounted slave left for Corioli. I should like, said Venisius, that Ursus should accompany her on her journey. I should feel safer. Master, said Nazarius, he is a man of superhuman strength. He will break the grating and follow her. There is one window in a high perpendicular wall, where no guard is stationed. I will bring a rope to Ursus, and he will do the rest. By Hercules, exclaimed Petronius, let him break from the prison as he pleases, but not at the same time with her, nor within two or three days after, for they would follow him and discover her hiding-place. By Hercules do he wish us all to perish with her. I forbid you to name Corioli to him, or I will wash my hands of the whole affair. The others silently acknowledged the prudence of his remarks. Nazarius prepared to take leave of them, promising to come back the next morning at dawn. He hoped to strike a bargain with the guards that night, but he wished first to see his mother, who, on account of the terrible times, was very anxious about him. After some reflection he resolved not to seek an assistant in the city, but to bribe one of his comrades among the corpse-bearers. Before leaving he took Manisius aside and whispered, Master, I will mention our plan to know one, not even to my mother, but Peter the Apostle promised to come to our house from the amphitheater, and to him I will tell everything. In this house thou canst speak openly, said Manisius. The Apostle Peter was in the amphitheater with the people of Patronius, but stay, I myself will go with thee. He ordered a slave to bring him a mantle, and they went out. Patronius drew a deep breath. I hoped that she would die of the fever, he thought, since that would be less terrible for Manisius, but now I am ready to offer a golden tripod to escalate his for her restoration to health. Ah, Bronzebeard, thou wishest to make a show of the agony of a lover. Thou, Augusta, werest jealous of the beauty of this girl, and now thou wouldst destroy her because thy Rufius has perished. Thou, Tijallinus, wouldst ruin her to spite me. We shall see. I tell ye that your eyes shall not behold her in the arena, because either she will die a natural death, or I shall rescue her from you, and I shall rescue her in such a way that ye will not know it, and then, whenever I look at ye afterwards, I shall think, these are the fools whom Patronius outwitted. And satisfied with himself, he went into the dining-room, where he sat down to supper with Eunice. A reader read to them, meanwhile, the bucolics of Theocritus. The wind drove cloud from the Saracti. A sudden storm broke the stillness of the peaceful summer night. Ever and anon, thunder reverberated on the seven hills, while they, lying side by side, listened to the pastoral poet, who in the melodious Doric dialect celebrated the loves of shepherds. Soothed and lulled, they later prepared for sweet repose. But before this Venisius returned, Patronius went out to meet him and asked, Have ye determined on anything new as Nazarius gone to the prison? Yes, replied the tribune arranging his wet hair. Nazarius has gone to bribe the guards, and I have seen Peter, who commanded me to pray and to have faith. Good, if everything goes well, we can carry her off to-morrow night. My steward from Corioli, with his men, must be here at dawn. It is a short distance. Now go to rest. At sunrise, Niger, the steward, arrived from Corioli. In accordance with the instructions of Venisius, he brought with him mules, a litter, and four trusty men selected from among British slaves. To avoid attracting attention, he left them at the end in the Sabora. Venisius, who had not slept the whole night, stepped out to meet him. The steward was greatly moved at sight of his young master. Kissing his hands and eyes, he exclaimed, My dear master, art thou ill, or has sorrow sucked the blood from thy cheeks? At first sight I could scarce recognize thee. Venisius led him to the interior colonnade, and there admitted him to the secret. Niger listened with close attention. On his healthy, swarthy face a great emotion was evident, an emotion which he had made no attempt to suppress. She is then a Christian? He cried with an inquiring glance at the face of Venisius. Evidently divining what that look meant, Venisius replied, I also am a Christian. Tears suffused the eyes of Niger. He was silent for a time. Then, lifting his hands, he said, Thanks be to Christ for having removed the scales from the eyes that are dearest to me on earth. Then he embraced Venisius, and weeping from sheer happiness kissed his forehead. A moment later Petronius appeared, accompanied by Nazarius. Good news! he cried from afar. It was good news indeed. First Glockus, the physician, vouched for Ligia's life, though she was down with the same prison fever of which, in the Tullianum and other dungeons, hundreds were dying every day. As to the jailers and the men who tested the corpses with red-hot iron, there had not been the slightest difficulty. The assistant, Attis, had also been fixed. We made holes in the coffin so that the sick woman could breathe, said Nazarius. The only danger is that she may groan or utter some word as we pass the Praetorians. She is very weak and lies the whole day with closed eyes. Glockus will give her a sleeping potion prepared from herbs which I myself will bring to him. The lid will not be nailed to the coffin. You will lift it easily and transfer the maiden to the litter. We will substitute in the coffin a long bag of sand which you will have ready. Venisius, as he listened, grew pale as a sheet, but with all he listened so attentively that he seemed to anticipate all Nazarius had to say. Will there be other bodies removed from the prison? asked Petronius. Nearly twenty people died last night. Before evening more will die, said the boy. We will have to join the rest but we will delay and drop to the rear. At the first turn my companion will begin to limp. In this way we shall fall considerably behind the others. Wait for us at the small temple of Libetina. May God give us a dark night. God will do so, said Niger. Yesterday evening that sky was clear again, but a sullen dampness has set in since morning. Every night now there will be wind and a rain. Are you going without any lights? asked Venisius. The torches are carried only in front. In any case wait in the vicinity of the temple of Libetina, as soon as the dust comes, though usually we remove the dead bodies only about midnight. Silence fell upon all, and only the quick breathing of Venisius was audible. Petronius turned to him. I said yesterday, he remarked, that it would be the best plan if we both would stay at home, but I see now that I could not stay. Besides, if it were a question of flight, we should have to be more careful, but since she will be carried out as a corpse, it seems to me that not the slightest suspicion will be aroused. Yes, yes, said Venisius, I must be there. I myself will take her out of the coffin. Once she is under my roof at Corioli, I answer for her, said Niger. This ended the conference. Niger winded his steps towards the inn to rejoin his men. Nazarius placed a heavy purse of gold under his tunic and went back to prison. For Venisius began a day filled with uneasiness, excitement, fear, and hope. The undertaking should succeed, for it is well planned, said Petronius. The matter could not have been arranged better. Thou must pretend to be in suffering, and don a dark toga, but do not mist the performances at the circus. Let the people see thee. Everything is so arranged that failure is impossible. But a word ought thou entirely sure of thy steward. He is a Christian, answered Venisius. Petronius looked at him in astonishment, then shrugging his shoulders, said, By Pollux, how it spreads, and how it takes possession of human souls! Under its powerful influence people would abjure all the gods, Roman, Greek, and Egyptian. It is wonderful! By Pollux, if I believed that any of our gods had power, I would vows six white bulls to every one of them, and to Jupiter capitalinus twelve. But forget not to make an offering to your Christ. I have given him my soul, answered Venisius. Then they parted. Petronius returned to his bedroom. Venisius, however, went to take a look at the prison from a distance. Thence he winded his way up the slope of the Vatican Hill to the cabin of the quarrymen, where he had received baptism at the hands of the apostle. It seemed to him that Christ would more readily listen to his petition in this hut than in any other place. Consequently, when he had found it, he threw himself upon the floor, and so gave up his suffering soul to prayer that he forgot himself entirely, and recalled not where he was or what he was doing. Not until the afternoon was he aroused by the sound of trumpets which came from the direction of Nero's Circus. He then left the hut and looked about him as if freshly aroused from sleep. It was hot and perfectly still, the silence was only broken from time to time by the sound of trumpets and by the chirping of crickets. The air was sultry, the sky above the city was still clear, but near the Sabine Hills dark clouds were gathering about the horizon. Vinicius returned home. At the entrance Petronius was waiting for him. I have been on the Palatine, he said. I showed myself there purposely, and even sat down to a game of dice. Vinicius gives a banquet to-night. I promised to go, but not until after midnight, because I must sleep a little before that hour. And I shall go, and it would be well if thou couldst be present also. As though any news from Niger or Nazarius, inquired Vinicius, No, we shall not see them before midnight, hast thou noticed that a storm is approaching. Yes, I have. Tomorrow there is to be an exhibition of crucified Christians, but rain might prevent the performance. Then, coming closer to Vinicius and taking his arm, he said, But thou shalt not see her on the cross, but only in Corioli. By Castor I wouldn't exchange the moment in which we free her for all the gyms in Rome. The evening is close at hand. And indeed the evening was approaching rapidly. Darkness began to envelop the city earlier than usual, on account of the clouds that now covered the entire horizon. With night came on a heavy rain, which, falling on the heated stones, turned into a steam and filled the streets of the city with a mist. Then followed a lull, and after that intermittent showers. Let us hurry, said Vinicius at last, because of the storm they may carry the bodies away from the prison earlier than usual. It is time, said Petronius. Donning Gallic mantles, they passed through the garden gate out into the street. Petronius had armed himself with a short Roman knife called a Sica, which he always carried when out at night. The streets of the city were deserted on account of the storm. From time to time lightning rent the clouds, illuminating with lurid flashings the newly built walls of the houses lately erected, or in the process of erection, and the wet flagstones with which the streets were paved. By one of these lightning flashes they described, at last, the mound whereon stood the little temple of Libertina. At the foot of the mound was a group of mules and horses. Niger! called Vinicius in a low voice. Hear, master! a voice answered from the fog. Is everything ready? Yes, master, we will hear immediately after dark. But get yourself under cover or you will be completely soaked. What a storm! I think that it is going to hail. Niger's apprehension was well founded. Soon hail began to fall. The hail was at first fine, but the stones became larger. The storms swept down heavily and the air grew chill. Having found shelter and protection from the wind and hail, they conversed in low tones. Even if someone should discover us, said Niger, suspicion would not be aroused, for we look like people who are only waiting for the storm to pass over. But I fear, lest the removal of the bodies should be postponed until tomorrow. This storm will not last long, said Patronius. We must wait even until daybreak. They waited, eagerly straining their ears to catch the sound of the procession. It ceased hailing, but immediately afterwards rain poured down. At times the wind rose and wafted from the putrid pits a dreadful odor of decaying bodies interred carelessly near the surface. All at once Niger exclaimed, I see a faint light through the mist. One, two, three, those are torches. And turning to his man, he said, See that the mules do not snort. They are coming, said Patronius. The lights were growing more and more distinct. Soon it was possible to discern the flames of the torches trembling in the wind. Niger crossed himself and began to pray. Meanwhile the dismal procession came nearer, and at last drew up before the temple of Libertina. Patronius, Vinicius, and Niger pressed up against the rampart, not knowing what was the meaning of this halt. But the men had stopped only for a moment to cover their faces and mouths with claws in order to protect them from the stifling odor, which, at the edge of the putrid pits, was simply unbearable. Then they lifted the beers and went on. Only one coffin was halted just before the temple. Vinicius hurried towards it, followed by Patronius and Niger, and two Britain slaves with a litter. But ere they had reached it, the voice of Nazarius was heard saying, in tones of anguish, Master, they have taken her with urses to the Esquiline prison. We are carrying another body, for she was removed before midnight. After his return home Patronius was plunged in gloom, and did not even attempt to console Vinicius. He knew that it would be impossible to rescue Ligia from the Esquiline prison. He divined that she had probably been transferred from the Tullianum lest she should die of fever, and thus escaped the Destin D'Amphitheater. On this very account she would be guarded all the more carefully. Patronius was deeply grieved for her and for Vinicius. Moreover, he was vexed because for the first time in his life he had failed and had been beaten in a contest. Fortune appears to have deserted me, he said to himself, but the gods are mistaken if they think I will consent to such a life as his, for example. Here he looked at Vinicius, who in turn gazed at him with wide-staring eyes. What ails thee, hast thou a fever? said Patronius. The other replied with a peculiar broken and halting voice like that of a sick child. I still believe that he will restore her to me. Above the city the last echoes of the storm had died away. A Rain lasting for three days, a rare phenomenon in Rome during the summer season, and hail falling against the natural order of things, not only during the day and evening, but even at night, interrupted the spectacles. People were growing alarmed. The failure of the vintage was predicted. When, at noon, on a certain day, a thunderbolt melted the bronze statue of Ceres on the capital, sacrifices were ordered in the temple of Jupiter Salvatore. The priest of Ceres gave it out that the wrath of the gods had been brought upon the city because the Christians had not been sufficiently punished. People then began to demand that, irrespective of weather, the spectacles should take place. Joy arose in Rome that the games would begin again after an interval of three days. Meantime fair weather returned. The amphitheater, from dawn till night, was filled with thousands of people. Caesar arrived early with the vestals and the court. The spectacle was to commence with a battle among the Christians, arrayed for the purpose as gladiators and supplied with all the various weapons used by gladiators for offensive and defensive warfare. But here came disappointment. The Christians threw the nets, darts, javelins, and swords down upon the arena, and instead of fighting, they embraced and encouraged one another to persist in the face of torture and death. The hearts of the populace were stirred with anger and indignation. Some accused the Christians of cowardice and baseness of mind, others asserted that they refused to fight because of their hatred of the people, and in order to deprive them of the enjoyment of a display of courage. Finally, at Caesar's command, real gladiators were summoned, who made short work of the kneeling and defenseless Christians. When the bodies were removed, the spectacle was changed to a series of mythological representations conceived by Caesar himself. Hercules appeared, blazing in fire on Mount Ita. Venisius had trembled at the thought that perhaps Ursaus had been selected for the part of Hercules, but evidently the turn of the faithful servant of Ligia had not yet come, since there perished at the stake some other Christian quite unknown to Venisius. In the next picture, however, Kylo, whom Caesar would not excuse from attendance, saw people whom he knew well. The death of Daedalus and that of Icarus were represented. The role of Daedalus was taken by Euryceus, the old man who had first explained to Kylo the symbol of the fish. The role of Icarus was sustained by his son Quartus. Both were hoisted in the air by means of machinery, and then hurled from an immense height down upon the arena. Young Quartus fell so near the imperial box that his blood spattered not only the external ornaments, but even the purple-covered seat. Kylo did not witness the fall because he had closed his eyes. He heard only the dull thud of the body. When, after a time, he caught sight of blood just near him, he came near to fainting for the second time. The pictures changed rapidly. The hearts of the rabble were delighted by the shameful torments of virgins dishonored before death by gladiators in the guise of wild beasts. Priestesses of Sibley and Ceres were to be seen, and the Daenids and Dursi and Pasiphy. Finally little girls were torn asunder by wild horses. The people applauded every new device of Nero, who, proud of his inventions and immensely pleased by the applause, did not take the emerald from his eye for an instant, while gazing upon white bodies torn with iron and the convulsive contortions of the victims. Pictures representing the history of the city were also given. After the maidens appeared Musius Scavola, whose hand, fastened to a tripod over a fire, filled the amphitheater with the odor of burning flesh. Like the real Scavola, he stood there silent without emitting a groan, his eyes raised upward, and the murmurs of a prayer on his blackened lips. When death had ended his torments and his body had been removed, the usual noonday interlude took place. Caesar, with the vessels and the Augustalis, left the amphitheater and betook himself to a scarlet tent erected purposely for the occasion, in which a gorgeous banquet had been prepared for himself and his guests. The onlookers, for the greater part, followed his example, and pouring out of the building, scattered into picturesque groups, and disposed themselves about the tent to enjoy the food which, through Caesar's favour, was lavishly bestowed upon them. The more curious among the spectators stepped down into the arena itself. Touching with their fingers the sand clotted with blood, discussed as connoisseurs the performances that had taken place and those that were to follow. Soon even these left the arena, lest they should miss the banquet. Only a few remained, and these not through curiosity, but out of compassion for the coming victims. These hid themselves in compartments, or beneath the lower seats. Meantime the arena was leveled and pits were dug in rows throughout the whole circuit, from one side to the other, so that the last row was but a few steps from the imperial box. From outside the circus came the voices of people, shouts and applause, while within everything was being prepared with feverish haste for new tortures. All at once the dungeons were opened, and through all the passages leading to the arena groups of Christians were driven, naked, with crosses on their shoulders. The great amphitheater was filled with them. Old men, bent under the weight of wooden crosses, ran forward. Alongside of them were vigorous men in the prime of life, women with disheveled hair, under cover of which they strove to conceal their nakedness. Small boys and little children. Most of the crosses as well as the victims were decorated with flowers. The servants of the amphitheater scourged the unfortunates with whips, and forced them to place their crosses beside the pits prepared for them, and to stand themselves in rows beside the crosses. In this way were to perish all those who had not on the first day of the games been driven out as food for dogs and wild beasts. Black slaves seized the victims, and laying them upon the wood, nailed their hands rapidly to the arms of the crosses, so that after the intermission the people should find the crosses already erect. The noise of hammers reverberated through the whole amphitheater, and, echoing among the higher tiers of seats, reached the place surrounding the amphitheater, and even the tent where Caesar was entertaining his retinue and the vestals. There he quaffed goblet after goblet of wine, bantered Kylo, and whispered strange words into the ears of the priestesses of Vesta. But in the arena the work was being pushed, nails were being hammered into the hands and feet of the Christians, and spades moved quickly, filling with earth the pits in which the crosses had been planted. Among the victims awaiting their turn was Crispus. The lions had not had time to tear him to pieces, therefore he had been sentenced to die on the cross. Always ready for death he rejoiced that his hour was near. Today he seemed like another man, for his withered body had been entirely stripped. Only an ivy wreath encircled his hips. On his head was a garland of roses, but in his eyes there shone ever that same unsubdued energy, that same stern and fanatical face looked from beneath the garland of roses. Nor had his heart changed, as before in the dungeon he had threatened with the wrath of God his brethren sewed up in hides. So now, instead of consoling them, he thundered forth, thank the Savior that he allows you to die the same death as himself. Perhaps some of your sins will be forgiven on this account, but tremble for justice must be satisfied and there cannot be one reward for the wicked and the good. He spoke to the accompaniment of hammers which drove the nails into the feet and hands of the victims. The crosses multiplied in the arena. He, however, turning to those who stood by their crosses, spoke as follows, I see heaven open before me, but I see also the open abyss. I do not know how I shall stand myself before the Lord, though I have believed and hated evil. I fear not death, but the resurrection, not torture, but the judgment, for the day of wrath is approaching. At that moment from among the nearest tears of seats came a voice calm and solemn. Not the day of wrath, but of mercy, the day of salvation and joy, because I tell you that Christ will receive you, will comfort you and will seat you on his right hand. Be of good faith for heaven is opening before you. At these words all eyes were turned towards the benches, even those already fastened to the crosses raised their pale, anguished faces and looked in the direction of the speaker. Then the man who had spoken came to the partition surrounding the arena and blessed the victims with the sign of the cross. Crispus stretched out his hand as if to expostulate, but when he saw the speaker's face, he dropped his hand, his knees bent under him, and his lips whispered, Paul the Apostle! To the amazement of the servants of the circus, all those who were not yet nailed to the crosses fell upon their knees. Paul of Tarsus turned towards Crispus and said, Crispus, threaten them not, for this day they will be with thee in paradise. Thou demest that they will be damned, but who will condemn them? Will God condemn them? He who gave his son for them? Will Christ, who died to save them, just as they die now for his sake? How could he who loves them condemn them? Who will accuse the elect of God? Who will say that this blood is a cursed? Master, I have hated evil! cried out the old priest. Christ laid more stress upon his command to love our fellow men than to hate evil, for he taught love, not hatred. I have sinned in the hour of my death! cried Crispus, striking his breast. The manager in charge of the benches now came up to the Apostle and said to him, Who art thou that dares to speak to the condemned? A Roman citizen, Paul replied, calmly. Then turning to Crispus, he said, Have confidence, for today is a day of grace. Die in peace, O servant of God! Two negroes approached Crispus at this moment to place him on the cross, but he looked around once more and exclaimed, My brethren, pray for me! His face had lost its usual severity. His features had assumed an aspect of sweetness and mildness. He stretched his arms himself upon the cross so as to facilitate the work, and looking straight upwards to the sky, he began to pray fervently. He seemed insensible to pain, for when the nails entered his palms not the least tremor shook his body, nor did the slightest contortion of pain appear upon his face. He prayed while his legs were being fastened, and continued to pray when they raised the cross, and the earth was being beaten down about it. Only when the rabble began to fill the amphitheater with shouts and laughter did the brows of the old man contract as if in anger that a pagan people were disturbing the peace of a sweet death. By this time all the crosses had been raised, so that the arena bore the appearance of a forest with people hanging on the trees, on the arms of the crosses and on the heads of the martyrs the sunshine fell, but on the arena was a thick shadow, like a black tangled grating through which gleamed the yellow sand. The whole pleasure of this spectacle consisted in the delight taken by the audience in watching a lingering death. Never before had there been such a large collection of crosses. The arena was so packed that the servants moved about among them with difficulty. On the crosses closest to the seats hung women, but Christmas as a leader was placed close to the imperial box on an enormous cross wreathed at the bottom with flowers. None of the victims had as yet expired, but a few who had been first crucified had fainted. No one groaned or cried for mercy. Some were hanging with their heads leaning upon the shoulder, or dropped upon the breast as if overcome by sleep. Some seemed in meditation. Some, looking towards heaven, moved their lips silently. There was something ominous in that fearful array of crosses in those crucified beings and in the silence of the victims. The people, sated with the banquet and in a pleasant state of mind, had returned to the circus with joyful shouts, but now they grew silent, not knowing upon which body to fix their eyes, nor what to think of the performance. The nudeness of the women seemed to excite no interest. They even refrained from betting as to who should die first, a thing usually done when smaller numbers of convicted appeared in the arena. Even Caesar appeared to get little enjoyment from the spectacle, for he turned his head in indolent and drowsy fashion to arrange his necklace. Suddenly, Crispus, who was hanging opposite and who for a time had closed his eyes as a man fainting or dying, opened them and gazed at Caesar. His face assumed such a terrible expression, and his eyes blazed with such fire that the Augustalis began to whisper among themselves, pointing him out with their fingers, and at length Caesar himself directed his attention towards him and slowly placed the emerald to his eye. Perfect stillness reigned. The eyes of the spectators were fixed upon Crispus, who attempted to move his right arm as if to tear it from the cross. After a while his breast rose, his ribs stood out, and he cried, Matricide, woe to thee! The Augustalis, hearing this mortal insult, flung publicly into the very face of the Lord of the World, scarce dared to breathe. Kylo came near fainting. Caesar shuddered and let his emerald fall. The people too held their breath. Then the voice of Crispus reverberated again with greater power through the entire amphitheater. Woe to thee, murderer of wife and brother! Woe to thee, antichrist! The abyss is opening under thee. Death is stretching its arms to embrace thee. The grave is yawning for thee. Woe to thee, living corpse! In terror thou shalt die, and thou shalt be damned forever! Unable to wrench away his hand, nailed to the cross, he strained himself in a frightful fashion. He resembled a death's head, inexorable as destiny. He shook his white beard at Nero's box, and with every motion of his head the roses fell from the garland which decorated it. Woe to thee, murderer! Thy doom is sealed and thy hour has come! Thus speaking he made a supreme effort. For a moment it seemed he would wrench his hand from the cross and extend it in menace over Caesar. But suddenly his emaciated arms extended still more, his body slipped downwards, his head drooped upon his breast, and he gave up the ghost. Among the forest of crosses weaker victims began also to drop into that sleep that knows no waking. Lord, said Kylo, the sea is like oil, and the waves seem to sleep. Let us go to Achia. They are the glory of Apollo. They are crowns and triumph await thee. They are the people adore thee, and the gods will receive thee as one of their own. Where as here, oh Lord! And he stopped for his lower lip trembled so that his words changed into meaningless sounds. When the games are over, we shall go. Replied Nero, I know that already some styled the Christians in offensive. Should I depart, all would say this same thing. What fearst thou, thou coward? He knitted his brows but looked with a questioning glance at Kylo as if awaiting an explanation, for he only feigned to be unmoved. During that last exhibition he himself had been frightened by the words of Crispus, and when he had returned home he could not sleep from anger and shame, and from fear also. Then Vestinius, who had listened in silence to the conversation, looked cautiously about, and said in a solemn voice, Harken, oh Lord, to the words of that old man, there is something strange about these Christians, there God grants them an easy death, but he may have vengeance in store for their enemies. Nero retorted quickly, I did not arrange the games, Tijellinus was the manager. Yes, I was the manager, said Tijellinus, who caught Caesar's words. Yes, I am the man, and I defy all the Christian gods. Vestinius, my lord, is a bladder full of superstition, and this bold Greek is likely to die of terror at the sight of a hen defending her chickens. Very well, said Nero, but from this day give orders that the tongues shall be torn from the Christians, that thus their mouths may be silenced. Fire will silence them, O Divinity. Well, who is me? groaned Kylo. But Caesar, whose courage was restored by the arrogant confidence of Tijellinus, burst out laughing and exclaimed, pointing a scornful finger at the old Greek, behold this offspring of Achilles. Kylo indeed looked dreadfully disturbed. What hair remained on his head had become white. On his face was an expression of great fear and distress. At times he appeared confused and as if only half-conscious. Often he paid no heed to questions. Sometimes again he became so angry and insolent that the Augustalis preferred to let him alone. Such a moment came to him then. Do what you please, but I will not go any more to the games, he cried in desperation. Nero regarded him attentively for a while, and turning to Tijellinus said, See to it that this stoic is near to me in the gardens. I want to see how the torches will impress him. Kylo was frightened at the threat which trembled in Caesar's voice. Lord, he said, I shall see nothing, for I cannot see in the night. But Caesar with a meaning smile replied, The night will be as bright as day. Then he turned towards the Augustalis, to whom he talked about some races with which he intended to wind up the games. Petronius approached Kylo and touching his arm said, Did I not tell thee that thou wouldst not hold out? The other, however, answered, I am a thirst. He stretched his trembling hand for a goblet of wine, but could not raise it to his lips. Seeing this, Vestinius took the goblet from him and approaching him closely, inquired with a curious and frightened face, Are the Furies pursuing thee? Tell me. The old man stared at him for a while, with his mouth wide open, as if he did not comprehend the question. Vestinius then repeated, Are the Furies pursuing thee? No, replied Kylo, but the night is before me. How is that, the night? The gods have mercy on thee. What dost thou mean? A night terrible and dark, in which something moves and comes towards me, something I know not what, and am very much afraid. I have always believed in witches, dost thou dream? No, because I cannot sleep. I did not think that they would be punished thus. Art thou sorry for them? Why do you shed so much blood? Didst thou not hear what that man said from the cross? Woe to us! I heard, answered Vestinius, but they are incendiaries. That is a lie, and they are foes of mankind. That is a lie, and the poisoners of water. That is a lie, and the murderers of children. That is a lie! How, inquired Vestinius with amazement, hast thou not said so thyself, and didst thou not deliver them into the hands of Tijellinius? Therefore night has encompassed me, and death is approaching me. Sometimes I think that I am dead already, and you also. No, it is they who die, and we are alive, but tell me, what do they see as they expire? Christ! Their God? Is he a powerful God? But Kylo answered with a question. What kind of torches are to be lighted in the gardens? Didst thou hear what Caesar said? I heard, and I know. They are called Samentitii and Samaxii. They are made by clothing men in the tunics of torture steeped in pitch. After that the victims are bound to pillars and set on fire. May their God not visit some dreadful calamity upon the city. Samaxii, that is a horrible punishment. I prefer it, because there will be no bloodshed, replied Kylo. Hold the goblet to my lips. I am thirsty, but I spill the wine. My hand trembles so from age. Meantime others were talking about the Christians. Old Domitius' offer ridiculed them. There are such numbers of them, he said, that they might raise a civil war, and remember it was feared that they would defend themselves, but they die like sheep. Let them try any other way, said Tijolinas. Upon this Patronius exclaimed, You are mistaken, they are arming themselves. With what? With patience. That is a new weapon. Yes, but can you say that they die like common criminals? No, they die as if those were criminals who put them to death. That is, we and the whole Roman people. What nonsense! exclaimed Tijolinas. What an abderite! replied Patronius. And others, struck with the appropriateness of his remark, looked at each other and repeated, To be sure there is something strange and peculiar in their manner of dying. I tell you that they behold their deity. Cried Vestinius, there upon several Augustalis turned to Kylo. Ho, old man! Thou knowest them well. Tell us what they see. The Greek spat wine upon his tunic and answered, The resurrection! And he trembled so that the guests who sat nearest to him burst into loud laughter. CHAPTER XVII For the last few nights Venicius had been away from home. Patronius surmised that he had made some new plan for liberating Ligia from the Esquiline prison. But he did not like to question him lest he might bring misfortune upon his efforts. The sceptical exquisite had become, in a certain sense, superstitious. From the time that he had failed to free the girl from the Mamertine prison, he ceased to trust in his own star. Moreover, he did not look for good results from the efforts of Venicius. The Esquiline prison, which had been arranged hurriedly from the cellars of houses torn down to check the conflagration, was not, it is true, so terrible as the old Tullianum near the capital, but it was much better guarded. Patronius understood very well that Ligia had been transferred there so that she might not die, and thus escape the amphitheater. It was clear to him, therefore, that they were now guarding her all the more watchfully. Evidently, he said to himself, Caesar and Tijellinus are reserving her for some special spectacle, more horrible than the others, and Venicius is more likely himself to perish than to rescue his loved one. Venicius also had lost hope that he would be able to rescue Ligia, Christ alone could save her. The young tribune longed only to visit her in prison. It was in his mind that Nazarius had succeeded in entering the mammantine prison, disguised as one of the servants employed in removing the dead. He resolved to try this method also. The jailer of the putrid pits, whom he bribed with an immense sum of money, at length placed him on the list of those servants whom he sent every night to bear the corpses from the prison. The danger of discovery was slight. The night, the dress of a slave, and the meager light in the prison were good allies. Who besides would surmise that a patrician, the grandson of one consul and the son of another, could be found among hirelings exposed to the foul air of prisons and of the putrid pits, and that he would be engaged in work to which men were forced only by slavery or by the direst penury? When the longed-for evening came, he girded his loins gladly, bound a cloth soaked in turpentine about his head, and with a throbbing heart accompanied a crowd of others to the esqueline. The patrician guards made no trouble because all possessed the proper credentials which the centurion scrutinized by the light of a lantern. After a time the great iron gates swung open and they entered. Vinicius saw before him a vast vaulted cellar, through which they passed to a number of others. Dim lamps lighted the interiors which were crowded with prisoners. Some of these were lying on the floor, sunk in sleep, or perhaps dead. Others crowded around large vessels of water which stood in the middle of the vaults, and from which they drank as do people suffering from fever. Still others sat upon the floor, their elbows on their knees, and their heads upon the palms of their hands. Here and there children nestled close to their mothers fast asleep. All about were heard groans, the loud breathing of the sick, sobs, whispered prayers, hymns in an undertone, and the curses of the jailers. The air of the dungeon was heavy with the odor of men and corpses. In its gloomy deeps crouched dark figures. Nearer to the flickering lights might be discerned pale faces, terrified, emaciated, cadaverous, their eyes dimmed or shining with fever, their lips blue, drops of perspiration oozing from their foreheads and their clammy hair. In far corners the sick moaned aloud. Some cried for waters, others prayed for death. Yet this prison was not so horrible as the old Tullianum. At the ghastly sight the legs of Vinicius trembled beneath him, and breath almost failed him. The thought that Ligia was in the midst of this horror and misery raised the hair on his head. He stifled a cry of despair. The amphitheater, the tusks of wild beasts, the cross, anything was better than this horrible dungeon, full of foul air, from every corner of which rose plaintive human cries, lead us to death. Vinicius dug his nails into his palms. He felt that he was growing weak, that his senses were leaving him. All that he had suffered here to fore, all his love and pain changed into one intense yearning for death. Just then the guardian of the putrid pits asked, How many corpses have ye today? About a dozen replied the jailer, but by the morning there will be more, because some are in their last agonies beside the walls. He complained about the women that they concealed their dead children so as to keep them as long as possible, and not to yield them to the pits. The corpses he further complained were only discovered by their odor, and this rendered the foul air still more baleful and poisonous. I should rather be a slave in some rural prison, he said, than to watch these dogs rotting here alive. The overseer of the pits consoled him, saying that his own work was no easier. By this time Vinicius had regained his faculties, and began to look around the prison, but he sought for Ligia in vain, and feared that he might never see her alive again. Several cellars were connected by newly made passages, the corpse-bearers entered only those from which dead bodies were to be removed. Vinicius feared lest all his pains might prove useless. Fortunately his patron aided him. The bodies must be removed immediately, said he, for infection spreads mostly on account of the corpses. If ye are not careful ye will yourselves die with the prisoners. Only ten men are allotted for all the cellars, said the watchman, and we must sleep. I will leave four of my own men who will visit the cellars during the night, and report all cases of death. We will drink to thy health tomorrow if thou do that. Every corpse must be tested, because we have an order to pierce the neck of each corpse, and then to take it at once to the pits. Very well then, but we must have our drink, said the overseer. He selected four men, and among them Vinicius, the rest he took to load the corpses upon the beers. Vinicius drew a long breath. He was now certain that he should be able to find Ligia. He started by examining the first dungeon, and looked into all the dark nooks, and examined the figures who slept beside the walls covered with rags. He went among the most grievously ill, who were placed in a special corner, but he could not find Ligia. His search through the second and third dungeons was also without result. Meantime the night had advanced. All the bodies had been carried out. The jailers went to sleep in the corridors adjoining the dungeons. The children, weary of crying, were silent. In the vaults were heard only the breathing of troubled breasts, and ever and anon the whisper of prayers. Vinicius carried his torch into the fourth dungeon, which was much smaller, and lifting the light he began to search through it. Suddenly he trembled, for he seemed to see the gigantic figure of Ursus close by a grating in the wall. Then, putting out his light, he approached and said, Is it thee, Ursus? The giant turned his head. Who art thou? Dost thou not recognize me? asked the young man. Thou didst put out the light. How can I recognize thee? Vinicius at that moment described Ligia lying on a cloak near the wall, so without another word he knelt beside her. Ursus then recognized him and said, Glory be to Christ, but do not awaken her, master! Vinicius kneeling, gazed at Ligia through his tears. Despite the darkness he could distinguish her face, pale as alabaster, and her emaciated arms. He was seized by an agony of love which penetrated his soul to the deepest depths and which at the same time was so full of compassion, reverence, and homage that falling upon his face he pressed to his lips the hem of the cloak upon which rested the head so dear to him. Ursus regarded him for a long time in silence. Finally he tugged at his tunic. Master! he asked, How didst thou enter here, and hast thou come to save her? Vinicius rose and for a time struggled with his emotions. Show me away! he said. I thought thou wouldst find it, master! I know of one way only. Here he turned his eyes towards the graded opening in the wall and then, as if in answer to himself, he said, Yes, but there are soldiers outside. A hundred Praetorians, answered Vinicius. We cannot get by, then. No. The Ligian rubbed his forehead and asked again, How didst thou enter here? I have credentials from the overseer of the putrid pits. Suddenly he stopped as if a new thought had struck him. By the passion of the Saviour, he said quickly, I will remain here. Let her take my pass, let her cover her head with a cloth, and her shoulders with the mantle, and pass out. Among the slaves engaged about here there are a few striplings. The Praetorians will not recognize her, and if she goes to the house of Petronius he will guard her. The Ligian dropped his head upon his breast and said, She would not consent to this, for she loves thee. Besides, she is ill and cannot stand alone. If thou, O master, and the noble Petronius, cannot save her from prison, who can? Christ only. Then both were silent. In his simple mind the Ligian thought, Christ undoubtedly could save all of us, but since he does not do it, the hour of agony and death has evidently come. For himself he bowed to the decree, but he grieved for the dear child who had grown up in his arms, and whom he loved above all things. Venicius knelt again beside Ligia. The pale beams of the moon stole through the grating in the wall, and gave better light than the solitary lamp which flickered over the entrance. Ligia opened her eyes and laying her hot hand on that of Venicius said, I see thee, I knew that thou wouldst come. He took her hands, lifted them to his heart, then raising her somewhat, he pressed her to his breast. I have come, my dear one, he said, May Christ watch over and save thee, O my beloved! He could speak no more because of the pain which his love caused him, but he did not wish to betray his anguish. I am sick, Marcus, said Ligia, and I must die, either here or in the arena. I have prayed to see thee before I die, and thou hast come. Christ has heard my prayer. Unable to utter a word, Venicius pressed her to his breast, and she continued, I saw thee from the window in the tullianum, and I knew that thou didst desire to come, and now the Saviour has granted me a moment of consciousness so that we may say farewell. I am going to him very soon, but I love thee, Marcus, and I shall love thee for ever. By an effort Venicius controlled himself. Stifling his pain, he spoke in a voice which he strove to make calm. No, dear one, thou shalt not die. The apostle commanded me to have faith and promised to pray for thee. He knew Christ. Christ loved him and will not refuse his request. If it was ordained that thou shouldst die now, Peter would not have bid me to be confident, but he said have confidence. No, Lygia, Christ will have mercy. He does not desire thy death. He will not permit it. I swear by the name of the Saviour that Peter prays for you. Silence followed. The solitary lamp over the doorway went out, but the moonlight streamed through the opening. In a corner of the cellar a child cried and was silent again. From the outside came the voices of Praetorians, who, after their watches, played at script-eyed duodesum under the wall. Marcus, replied Lygia, Christ himself cried to the father, let this bitter chalice pass from me, but still he drank it. Christ himself died on the cross and now thousands perish for his sake. Why should he spare me alone? Who am I, Marcus? I heard Peter say that he would also die on the cross, and what am I compared to him? When the Praetorians came for us I was afraid of death and torture, but I feel no more. Look how terrible is this prison, but I am going to heaven. Think of it. Here is Caesar, but there is the Saviour good and merciful. With him there is no death. Thou lovest me, think then how happy I shall be. O Marcus, my loved one, think that Thou wilt follow me. Here she paused for breath and then raised his hand to her lips. Marcus, what dear one, do not weep for me, and remember Thou wilt follow me. I have lived only a short while, but God gave me thy soul. I desire to tell Christ that though I died, and that though Thou didst look upon my death, and Thou werest left in sorrow, yet Thou didst not blaspheme against his will and didst love him always. Wilt Thou love him and suffer my death patiently? For then he will unite us. I love thee, and I wish to be with thee forever. Here again she paused for breath, and in a scarcely audible voice she continued, Promise me this, Marcus. Venisius embraced her with trembling arms and replied, By that sacred head I promise. Her face grew radiant in the pale light of the moon, and raising once more his hand to her lips she murmured, I am thy wife. Beyond the wall the Praetorians in the midst of their game roused a loud dispute, but these two forgot the prison, the guards, the world, and feeling within themselves the souls of angels, they lifted up their hearts in prayer.