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_ BEFORE the Flavii had reared the Colosseum, amphitheatres in
Rome were built of wood mainly; for that reason nearly all of them
had burned during the fire. But Nero, for the celebration of the
promised games, had given command to build several, and among
them a gigantic one, for which they began, immediately after the
fire was extinguished, to bring by sea and the Tiber great trunks of
trees cut on the slopes of Atlas; for the games were to surpass all
previous ones in splendor and the number of victims.
Large spaces were given therefore for people and for animals.
Thousands of mechanics worked at the structure night and day.
They built and ornamented without rest. Wonders were told
concerning pillars inlaid with bronze, amber, ivory, mother of
pearl, and transmarmne tortoise-shells. Canals filled with ice-cold
water from the mountains and running along the seats were to keep
an agreeable coolness in the building, even during the greatest
heat. A gigantic purple velarium gave shelter from the rays of the
sun. Among the rows of seats were disposed vessels for the
burning of Arabian perfumes; above them were fixed instruments
to sprinkle the spectators with dew of saffron and verbena. The
renowned builders Severus and Celer put forth all their skill to
construct an amphitheatre at once incomparable and fitted for such
a number of the curious as none of those known before had been
able to accommodate.
Hence, the day when the ludus matutinus was to begin, throngs of
the populace were awaiting from daylight the opening of the gates,
listening with delight to the roars of lions, the hoarse growls of
panthers, and the howls of dogs. The beasts had not been fed for
two days, but pieces of bloody flesh had been pushed before them
to rouse their rage and hunger all the more. At times such a storm
of wild voices was raised that people standing before the Circus
could not converse, and the most sensitive grew pale from fear.
With the rising of the sun were intoned in the enclosure of the
Circus hymns resonant but calm. The people heard these with
amazement, and said one to another, "The Christians! the
Christians!" In fact, many detachments of Christians had been
brought to the amphitheatre that night, and not from one place, as
planned at first, but a few from each prison. It was known in the
crowd that the spectacles would continue through weeks and
months, but they doubted that it would be possible to finish in a
single day those Christians who had been intended for that one
occasion. The voices of men, women, and children singing the
morning hymn were so numerous that spectators of experience
asserted that even if one or two hundred persons were sent out at
once, the beasts would grow tired, become sated, and not tear all
to pieces before evening. Others declared that an excessive number
of victims in the arena would divert attention, and not give a
chance to enjoy the spectacle properly.
As the moment drew near for opening the vomitoria, or passages
which led to the interior, people grew animated and joyous; they
discussed and disputed about various things touching the
spectacle. Parties were formed praising the greater efficiency of
lions or tigers in tearing. Here and there bets were made. Others
however talked about gladiators who were to appear in the arena
earlier than the Christians; and again there were parties, some in
favor of Samnites, others of Gauls, others of Mirmillons, others of
Thracians, others of the retiarii.
Early in the morning larger or smaller detachments of gladiators
began to arrive at the amphitheatre under the lead of masters,
called lanistiae. Not wishing to be wearied too soon, they entered
unarmed, often entirely naked, often with green boughs in their
hands, or crowned with flowers, young, beautiful, in the light of
morning, and full of life. Their bodies, shining from olive oil, were
strong as if chiselled from marble; they roused to delight people
who loved shapely forms. Many were known personally, and from
moment to nioment were heard: "A greeting, Furnius! A greeting,
Leo! A greeting, Maximus! A greeting, Diomed!" Young maidens
raised to them eyes full of admiration; they, selecting the maiden
most beautiful, answered with jests, as if no care weighed on them,
sending kisses, or exclaiming, "Embrace me before death does!"
Then they vanished in the gates, through which many of them were
never to come forth again.
New arrivals drew away the attention of the throngs. Behind the
gladiators came mastigophori; that is, men armed with scourges,
whose office it was to lash and urge forward combatants. Next
mules drew, in the direction of the spoliarium, whole rows of
vehicles on which were piled wooden coffins. People were
diverted at sight of this, inferring from the number of coffins the
greatness of the spectacle. Now marched in men who were to kill
the wounded; these were dressed so that each resembled Charon or
Mercury. Next came those who looked after order in the Circus,
and assigned places; after that slaves to bear around food and
refreshments; finally, pretorians, whom every Caesar had always at
hand in the amphitheatre.
At last the vomitoria were opened, and crowds rushed to the
centre. But such was the number of those assembled that they
flowed in and flowed in for hours, till it was a marvel that the
Circus could hold such a countless multitude. The roars of wild
beasts, catching the exhalations of people, grew louder. While
taking their places, the spectators made an uproar like the sea in
time of storm.
Finally, the prefect of the city came, surrounded by guards; and
after him, in unbroken line, appeared the litters of senators,
consuls, pretors, ediles, officials of the government and the palace,
of pretorian officers, patricians, and exquisite ladies. Some litters
were preceded by lictors bearing maces in bundles of rods; others
by crowds of slaves. In the sun gleamed the gilding of the litters,
the white and varied colored stuffs, feathers, earrings, jewels, steel
of the maces. From the Circus came shouts with which the people
greeted great dignitaries. Small divisions of pretorians arrived
from time to time.
The priests of various temples came somewhat later; only after
them were brought in the sacred virgins of Vesta, preceded by
lictors.
To begin the spectacle, they were waiting now only for Caesar,
who, unwilling to expose the people to over-long waiting, and
wishing to win them by promptness, came soon, in company with
the Augusta and Augustians.
Petronius arrived among the Augustians, having Vinicius in his
litter. The latter knew that Lygia was sick and unconscious; but as
access to the prison had been forbidden most strictly during the
preceding days, and as the former guards had been replaced by
new ones who were not permitted to speak with the jailers or even
to communicate the least information to those who came to inquire
about prisoners, he was not even sure that she was not among the
victims intended for the first day of spectacles. They might send
out even a sick woman for the lions, though she were unconscious.
But since the victims were to be sewed up in skins of wild beasts
and sent to the arena in crowds, no spectator could be certain that
one more or less might not be among them, and no man could
recognize any one. The jailers and all the servants of the
amphitheatre had been bribed, and a bargain made with the
beast-keepers to hide Lygia in some dark corner, and give her at
night into the hands of a confidant of Vinicius, who would take her
at once to the Alban Hills. Petronius, admitted to the secret,
advised Vinicius to go with him openly to the amphitheatre, and
after he had entered to disappear in the throng and hurry to the
vaults, where, to avoid possible mistake, he was to point out Lygia
to the guards personally.
The guards admitted him through a small door by which they came
out themselves. One of these, named Cyrus, led him at once to the
Christians. On the way he said, --
"I know not, lord, that thou wilt find what thou art seeking. We
inquired for a maiden named Lygia, but no one gave us answer; it
may be, though, that they do not trust us."
"Are there many?" asked Vinicius.
"Many, lord, had to wait till to-morrow."
"Are there sick ones among them?"
"There were none who could not stand."
Cyrus opened a door and entered as it were an enormous chamber,
but low and dark, for the light came in only through grated
openings which separated it from the arena. At first Vinicius could
see nothing; he heard only the murmur of voices in the room, and
the shouts of people in the amphitheatre. But after a time, when his
eyes had grown used to the gloom, he saw crowds of strange
beings, resembling wolves and bears. Those were Christians sewed
up in skins of beasts. Some of them were standing; others were
kneeling in prayer. Here and there one might divine by the long
hair flowing over the skin that the victim was a woman. Women,
looking like wolves, carried in their arms children sewed up in
equally shaggy coverings. But from beneath the skins appeared
bright faces and eyes which in the darkness gleamed with delight
and feverishness. It was evident that the greater number of those
people were mastered by one thought, exclusive and beyond the
earth, -- a thought which during life made them indifferent to
everything which happened around them and which could meet
them. Some, when asked by Vinicius about Lygia, looked at him
with eyes as if roused from sleep, without answering his questions;
others smiled at him, placing a finger on their lips or pointing to
the iron grating through which bright streaks of light entered. But
here and there children were crying, frightened by the roaring of
beasts, the howling of dogs, the uproar of people, and the forms of
their own parents who looked like wild beasts. Vinicius as he
walked by the side of Cyrus looked into faces, searched, inquired,
at times stumbled against bodies of people who had fainted from
the crowd, the stifling air, the heat, and pushed farther into the
dark depth of the room, which seemed to be as spacious as a whole
amphitheatre.
But he stopped on a sudden, for he seemed to hear near the grating
a voice known to him. He listened for a while, turned, and,
pushing through the crowd, went near. Light fell on the face of the
speaker, and Vinicius recognized under the skin of a wolf the
emaciated and implacable countenance of Crispus.
"Mourn for your sins!" exclaimed Crispus, "for the moment is
near. But whoso thinks by death itself to redeem his sins commits
a fresh sin, and will be hurled into endless fire. With every sin
committed in life ye have renewed the Lord's suffering; how dare
ye think that that life which awaits you will redeem this one?
To-day the just and the sinner will die the same death; but the Lord
will find His own. Woe to you, the claws of the lions will rend
your bodies; but not your sins, nor your reckoning with God. The
Lord showed mercy sufficient when He let Himself be nailed to the
cross; but thenceforth He will be only the judge, who will leave no
fault unpunished. Whoso among you has thought to extinguish his
sins by suffering, has blasphemed against God's justice, and will
sink all the dccpcr. Mercy is at an end, and the hour of God's wrath
has come. Soon ye will stand before the awful Judge in whose
presence the good will hardly be justified. Bewail your sins, for the
jaws of hell are open; woe to you, husbands and wives; woe to
you, parents and children."
And stretching forth his bony hands, he shook them above the bent
heads; he was unterrifled and implacable even in the presence of
death, to which in a while all those doomed peopic wcre to go.
After his words, were heard voices:
"We bewail our sins!" Then came silence, and only the cry of
children was audible, and the beating of hands against breasts.
The blood of Vinicius stiffened in his veins. He, who had placed
all his hope in the mercy of Christ, heard now that the day of wrath
had come, and that even death in the arena would not obtain
mercy. Through his head shot, it is true, the thought, clear and
swift as lightning, that Peter would have spoken otherwise to those
about to die. Still those terrible words of Crispus filled with
fanaticism that dark chamber with its grating, beyond which was
the field of torture. The nearness of that torture, and the throng of
victims arrayed for death already, filled his soul with fear and
terror. All this seemed to him dreadful, and a hundred times more
ghastly than the bloodiest battle in which he had ever taken part.
The odor and heat began to stifle him; cold sweat came out on his
forehead. He was seized by fear that he would faint like those
against whose bodies he had stumbled while searching in the depth
of the apartment; so when he remembered that they might open the
grating any moment, he began to call Lygia and Ursus aloud, in the
hope that, if not they, some one knowing them would answer.
In fact, some man, clothed as a bear, pulled his toga, and said, --
"Lord, they remained in prison. I was the last one brought our; I
saw her sick on the couch."
"Who art thou?" inquired Viniciug.
"The quarryman in whose hut the Apostle baptized thee, lord. They
imprisoned me three days ago, and to-day I die."
Vinicius was relieved. When entering, he had wished to find
Lygia; now he was ready to thank Christ that she was not there,
and to see in that a sign of mercy. Meanwhile the quarryman
pulled his toga again, and said, --
"Dost remember, lord, that I conducted thee to the vineyard of
Cornelius, when the Apostle discoursed in the shed?"
"I remember."
"I saw him later, the day before they imprisoned me, He blessed
me, and said that he would come to the amphitheatre to bless the
perishing. If I could look at him in the moment of death and see
the sign of the cross, it would be easier for me to die. If thou know
where he is, lord, inform me."
Vinicius lowered his voice, and said, --
"He is among the people of Petronius, disguised as a slave. I know
not where they chose their places, but I will return to the Circus
and see. Look thou at me when ye enter the arena. I will rise and
turn my face toward them; then thou wilt find him with thy eyes."
"Thanks to thee, lord, and peace be with thee."
"May the Redeemer be merciful to thee."
"Amen."
Vinicius went out of the cuniculum, and betook himself to the
amphitheatre, where he had a place near Petronius among the
other Augustians.
"Is she there?" inquired Petronius.
"No; she remained in prison."
"Hear what has occurred to me, but while listening look at Nigidia
for example, so that we may seem to talk of her hair-dressing.
Tigellinus and Chilo are looking at us now. Listen then. Let them
put Lygia in a coffin at night and carry her out of the prison as a
corpse; thou divinest the rest?"
"Yes," answered Vinicius.
Their further conversation was interrupted by Tullius Senecio,
who, bending toward them, asked, --
"Do ye know whether they will give weapons to the Christians?"
"We do not," answered Petronius. "I should prefer that arms were
given," said Tullius; "if not, the arena will become like butcher's
shambles too early. But what a splendid amphitheatre!"
The sight was, in truth, magnificent. The lower seats, crowded
with togasae were as white as snow. In the gilded podium sat
Caesar, wearing a diamond collar and a golden crown on his head;
next to him sat the beautiful and gloomy Augusta, and on both
sides were vestal virgins, great officials, senators with
embroidered togas, officers of the army with glittering weapons, --
in a word, all that was powerful, brilliant, and wealthy in Rome. In
the farther rows sat knights; and higher up darkened in rows a sea
of common heads, above which from pillar to pillar hung festoons
of roses, lilies, ivy, and grapevines.
People conversed aloud, called to one another, sang; at times they
broke into laughter at some witty word which was sent from row to
row, and they stamped with impatience to hasten the spectacle.
At last the stamping became like thunder, and unbroken. Then the
prefect of the city, who rode around the arena with a brilliant
retinue, gave a signal with a handkerchief, which was answered
throughout the amphitheatre by "A-a-a!" from thousands of
breasts.
Usually a spectacle was begun by hunts of wild beasts, in which
various Northern and Southern barbarians excelled; but this time
they had too many beasts, so they began with andabates, -- that is,
men wearing helmets without an opening for the eyes, hence
fighting blindfold. A number of these came into the arena together,
and slashed at random with their swords; the scourgers with long
forks pushed some toward others to make them meet. The more
select of the audience looked with contempt and indifference at
this spectacle; but the crowd were amused by the awkward
motions of the swordsmen. When it happened that they met with
their shoulders, they burst out in loud laughter. "To the right!" "To
the left!" cried they, misleading the opponents frequently by
design. A number of pairs closed, however, and the struggle began
to be bloody. The determined combatants cast aside their shields,
and giving their left hands to each other, so as not to part again,
struggled to the death with their right. Whoever fell raised his
fingers, begging mercy by that sign; but in the beginning of a
spectacle the audience demanded death usually for the wounded,
especially in the case of men who had their faces covered and were
unknown. Gradually the number of combatants decreased; and
when at last only two remained, these were pushed together; both
fell on the sand, and stabbed each other mutually. Then, amid cries
of "Peractum est!" servants carried out the bodies, youths raked
away the bloody traces on the sand and sprinkled it with leaves of
saffron.
Now a more important contest was to come, -- rousing interest not
only in the herd, but in exquisites; during this contest young
patricians made enormous bets at times, often losing all they
owned. Straightway from hand to hand went tablets on which were
written names of favorites, and also the number of sestertia which
each man wagered on his favorite. "Spectati" -- that is, champions
who had appeared already on the arena and gained victories --
found most partisans; but among betters were also those who
risked considerably on gladiators who were new and quite
unknown, hoping to win immense sums should these conquer.
Caesar himself bet; priests, vestals, senators, knights bet; the
populace bet. People of the crowd, when money failed them, bet
their own freedom frequently. They waited with heart-beating and
even with fear for the combatants, and more than one made
audible vows to the gods to gain their protection for a favorite.
In fact, when the shrill sound of trumpets was heard, there was a
stillness of expectation in the amphitheatre. Thousands of eyes
were turned to the great bolts, which a man approached dressed
like Charon, and amid the universal silence struck three times with
a hammer, as if summoning to death those who were hidden
behind them. Then both halves of the gate opened slowly, showing
a black gully, out of which gladiators began to appear in the bright
arena. They came in divisions of twenty-five, Thracians,
Mirmilons, Samnites, Gauls, each nation separately, all heavily
armed; and last the retiarii, holding in one hand a net, in the other
a trident. At sight of them, here and there on the benches rose
applause, which soon turned into one immense and unbroken
storm. From above to below were seen excited faces, clapping
hands, and open mouths, from which shouts burst forth. The
gladiators encircled the whole arena with even and springy tread,
gleaming with their weapons and rich outfit; they halted before
Caesar's podium, proud, calm, and brilliant. The shrill sound of a
horn stopped the applause; the combatants stretched their right
hands upward, raised their eyes and heads toward Caesar, and
began to cry or rather to chant with drawling voice, --
"Ave, Caesar imperator!
Morituri te salutant!"
Then they pushed apart quickly, occupying their places on the
arena. They were to attack one another in whole detachments; but
first it was permitted the most famous fencers to have a series of
single combats, in which the strength, dexterity, and courage of
opponents were best exhibited. In fact, from among the Gauls
appeared a champion, well known to lovers of the amphitheatre
under the name of Lanio, a victor in many games. With a great
helmet on his head, and in mail which formed a ridge in front of
his powerful breast and behind, he looked in the gleam of the
golden arena like a giant beetle. The no less famous retiarius
Calendio came out against him.
Among the spectators people began to bet.
"Five hundred sestertia on the Gaul!"
"Five hundred on Calendio!"
"By Hercules, one thousand!"
"Two thousand!"
Meanwhile the Gaul, reaching the centre of the arena, began to
withdraw with pointed sword, and, lowering his head, watched his
opponent carefully through the opening of his visor; the light
retiarius, stately, statuesque, wholly naked save a belt around his
loins, circled quickly about his heavy antagonist, waving the net
with graceful movement, lowering or raising his trident, and
singing the usual song of the retiarius, --
"Non te peto, piscem peto;
Quid me fugis, Galle?"1
But the Gaul was not fleeing, for after a while he stopped, and
standing in one place began to turn with barely a slight movement,
so as to have his enemy always in front, in his form and
monstrously large head there was now something terrible, The
spectators understood perfectly that that heavy body encased in
bronze was preparing for a sudden throw to decide the battle. The
retiarius meanwhile sprang up to him, then sprang away, making
with his three-toothed fork motions so quick that the eye hardly
followed them. The sound of the teeth on the shield was heard
repeatedly; but the Gaul did not quiver, giving proof by this of his
gigantic strength. All his attention seemed fixed, not on the trident,
but the net which was circling above his head, like a bird of ill
omen. The spectators held the breath in their breasts, and followed
the masterly play of the gladiators. The Gaul waited, chose the
moment, and rushed at last on his enemy; the latter with equal
quickness shot past under his sword, straightened himself with
raised arm, and threw the net.
The Gaul, turning where he stood, caught it on his shield; then
both sprang apart. In the amphitheatre shouts of "Macte!"
thundered; in the lower rows they began to make new bets. Caesar
himself, who at first had been talking with Rubria, and so far had
not paid much attention to thc spectacle, turned his head toward
the arena.
They began to struggle again, so regularly and with such precision
in thcir movements, that sometimes it seemed that with them it
was not a question of life or death, but of exhibiting skill. The
Gaul escaping twice more from the net, pushed toward the edge of
the arena; those who held bets against him, not wishing the
champion to rest, began to cry, "Bear on!" The Gaul obeyed, and
attacked. The arm of the retiarius was covered on a sudden with
blood, and his net dropped. The Gaul summoned his strength, and
sprang forward to give the final blow. That instant Calendio, who
feigned inability to wield the net, sprang aside, escaped the thrust,
ran the trident between the knees of the aepponaentae and brought
him to the earth.
The Gaul tried to rise, but in a twinkle he was covered by the fatal
meshes, in which he was entangled more and more by every
niovemeilt of his feet and hands. Meanwhile stabs of the trident
fixed him time after time to the earth. He made one more effort,
rested on his arm, and tried to rise; in vain! He raised to his head
his falling hand which could hold the sword no longer, and fell on
his back. Calendio pressed his neck to the ground with the trident,
and, resting both hands on the handle of it, turned toward Caesar's
box.
The whole Circus was trembling from plaudits and the roar of
people. For those who had bet on Calendio he was at that moment
greater than Caesar; but for this very reason animosity against the
Gaul vanished from their hearts. At the cost of his blood he had
filled their purses. The voices of the audience were divided. On the
upper seats half the signs were for death, and half for mercy; but
the retiarius looked only at the box of Caesar and the vestals,
waiting for what they would decide.
To the misfortune of the fallen gladiator, Nero did not like him, for
at the last ganies before the fire he had bet against the Gaul, and
had lost considerable sums to Licinus; hence he thrust his hand out
of the podium, and turned his thumb toward the earth.
The vestals supported the sign at once. Calendio knelt on the
breast of the Gaul, drew a short knife from his belt, pushed apart
the armor around the neck of his opponent, and drove the
three-edged blade into his throat to the handle.
"Peractum est!" sounded voices in the amphitheatre.
The Gaul quivered a time, like a stabbed bullock, dug the sand
with his heels, stretched, and was motionless.
Mercury had no need to try with heated iron if her were living yet.
He was hidden away quickly, and other pairs appeared. After them
came a battle of whole detachments. The audience took part in it
with soul, heart, and eyes. They howled, roared, whistled,
applauded, laughed, urged on the combatants, grew wild. The
gladiators on the arena, divided into two legions, fought with the
rage of wild beasts; breast struck breast, bodies were intertwined
in a death grapple, strong limbs cracked in their joints, swords
were buried in breasts and in stomachs, pale lips threw blood on to
the sand. Toward the end such terrible fear seized some novices
that, tearing themselves from the turmoil, they fled; but the
scourgers drove them back again quickly to the battle with lashes
tipped with lead. On the sand great dark spots were formed; more
and more naked and armed bodies lay stretched like grain sheaves.
The living fought on the corpses; they struck against armor and
shields, cut their feet against broken weapons, and fell. The
audience lost self-command from delight; and intoxicated with
death breathed it, sated their eyes with the sight of it, and drew
into their lungs the exhalations of it with ecstasy.
The conquered lay dead, almost every man. Barely a few wounded
knelt in the middle of the arena, and trembling stretched their
hands to the audience with a prayer for mercy. To the victors were
given rewards, -- crowns, olive wreaths. And a moment of rest
came, which, at command of the all-powerful Caesar, was turned
into a feast. Perfumes were burned in vases. Sprinklers scattered
saffron and violet rain on the people. Cooling drinks were served,
roasted meats, sweet cakes, wine, olives, and fruits. The people
devoured, talked, and shouted in honor of Caesar, to incline him to
greater bounteousness. When hunger and thirst had been satisfied,
hundreds of slaves bore around baskets full of gifts, from which
boys, dressed as Cupids, took various objects and threw them with
both hands among the seats. When lottery tickets were distributed,
a battle began. People crowded, threw, trampled one another; cried
for rescue, sprang over rows of seats, stifled one another in the
terrible crush, since whoever got a lucky number might win
possibly a house with a garden, a slave, a splendid dress, or a wild
beast which he could sell to the amphitheatre afterward. For this
reason there were such disorders that frequently the pretorians had
to interfere; and after every distribution they carried out people
with brnken arms or legs, and some were even trampled to death in
the throng.
But the more wealthy took no part in the fight for tesseraae. The
Augustians amused themselves now with the spectacle of Chilo,
and with making sport of his vain efforts to show that he could
look at fighting and blood-spilling as well as any man. But in vain
did the unfortunate Greek wrinkle his brow, gnaw his lips, and
squeeze his fists till the nails entered his palms. His Greek nature
and his personal cowardice were unable to endure such sights. His
face grew pale, his forehead was dotted with drops of sweat, his
lips were blue, his eyes turned in, his teeth began to chatter, and a
trembling seized his body. At the end of the battle he recovered
somewhat; but when they attacked him with tongues, sudden anger
seized him, and he defended himself desperately.
"Ha, Greek! the sight of torn skin on a man is beyond thy
strength!" said Vatinius, taking him by the beard.
Chilo bared his last two yellow teeth at him and answered, --
"My father was not a cobbler, so I cannot mend it."
"Macre! habet (Good! he has caught it!)!" called a number of
voices; but others jeered on.
"He is not to blame that instead of a heart he has a piece of cheese
in his breast," said Senccio.
"Thou art not to blame that instead of a head thou hast a bladder,"
retorted Chilo.
"Maybe thou wilt become a gladiator! thou wouldst look well with
a net on the arena."
"If I should catch thee in it, I should catch a stinking hoopoe."
"And how will it be with the Christians?" asked Festus, from
Liguria. "Wouldst thou not like to be a dog and bite them?"
"I should not like to be thy brother."
"Thou Maeotian copper-nose!"
"Thou Ligurian mule!"
"Thy skin is itching, evidently, but I don't advise thee to ask me to
scratch it."
"Scratch thyself. If thou scratch thy own pimple, thou wilt destroy
what is best in thee,"
And in this manner they attacked him. He defended himself
venomously, amid universal laughter. Caesar, clapping his hands,
repeated, "Macte!" and urged them on. After a while Pertronius
approached, and, touching the Greek's shoulder with his carved
ivory cane, said coldly, --
"This is well, philosopher; but in one thing thou hast blundered:
the gods created thee a pickpocket, and thou hast become a
demon. That is why thou canst not endure."
The old man looked at him with his red eyes, but this time
somehow he did not find a ready insult. He was silent for a
moment; then answered, as if with a certain effort, --
"I shall endure."
Meanwhile the trumpets announced the end of the interval. People
began to leave the passages where they had assembled to
straighten their legs and converse. A general movement set in with
the usual dispute about seats occupied previously. Senators and
patricians hastened to their places. The uproar ceased after a time,
and the amphitheatre returned to order. On the arena a crowd of
people appeared whose work was to dig out here and there lumps
of sand formed with stiffened blood.
The turn of the Christians was at hand. But since that was a new
spectacle for people, and no one knew how the Christians would
bear themselves, all waited with a certain curiosity. The
disposition of the audience was attentive but unfriendly; they were
waiting for uncommon scenes. Those people who were to appear
had burned Rome and its ancient treasures. They had drunk the
blood of infants, and poisoned water; they had cursed the whole
human race, and committed the vilest crimes. The harshest
punishment did not suffice the roused hatred; and if any fear
possessed people's hearts, it was this: that the torture of thae
Christiam would not equal the guilt of those ominous criminals.
Meanwhile the sun had risen high; its rays, passing through the
purple velarium, had filled the amphitheatre with blood-colored
light. The sand assumed a fiery hue, and in those gleams, in the
faces of people, as well as in thae empty arcna1 which after a time
waae to be filled with the torture of people and the rage of savage
beasts, there was something terrible. Death and terror seemed
hovering in the air. The throng, usually gladsome, became moody
under the influence of hate and silence. Faces had a sullen
expression.
Now the prefect gave a sign. The same old man appeared, dressed
as Charon, who had called the gladiators to death, and, passing
wifh slow step across the arena amid silence, he struck three times
again on the door.
Throughout the amphitheatre was heard the deep murmur, --
"The Christians! the Christians!"
The iron gratings creaked; through the dark openings were heard
the usual cries of the scourgers, "To the sand!" and in one moment
the arena was peopled with crowds as it were of satyrs covered
with skins. All ran quickly, somewhat feverishly, and, reaching the
middle of the circle, they knelt one by another with raised heads.
The spectators, judging this to be a prayer for pity, and enraged by
such cowardice, began to stamp, whistle, throw empty
wine-vessels, bones from which the flesh had been eaten, and
shout, "The beasts! the beasts!" But all at once something
unexpected took place. From out the shaggy assembly singing
voices were raised, and then sounded that hynm heard for the first
time in a Roman amphitheatre, "Christus regnat!" 2
Astonishment seized the spectators. The condemned sang with
eyes raised to the velarium. The audience saw faces pale, but as it
were inspired. All understood that those people were not asking for
mercy, and that they seemed not to see the Circus, the audience,
the Senate, or Caesar. "Christus regnat!" rose ever louder, and in
the seats, far up to the highest, among the rows of spectators, more
than one asked himself the question, "What is happening, and who
is that Christus who reigns in the mouths of those people who are
about to die?" But meanwhile a new grating was opened, and into
the arena rushed, with mad speed and barking, whole packs of
dogs, -- gigantic, yellow Molosians from the, Peloponnesus, pied
dogs from the Pyrenees, and wolf-like hounds from Hibernia,
purposely famished; their sides lank, and their eyes bloodshot.
Their howls and whines filled the amphitheatre. When the
Christians had finished their hymn, they remained kneeling,
motionless, as if petrified, merely repeating in one groaning
chorus, "Pro Christo! Pro Christo!" The dogs, catching the odor of
people under the skins of beasts, and surprised by their silence, did
not rush on them at once. Some stood against the walls of the
boxes, as if wishing to go among the spectators; others ran around
barking furiously, as though chasing some unseen beast. The
people were angry. A thousand voices began to call; some howled
like wild beasts; some barked like dogs; others urged them on in
every language. The amphitheatre was trembling from uproar. The
excited dogs began to run to the kneeling people, then to draw
back, snapping their teeth, till at last one of the Molossians drove
his teeth into the shoulder of a woman kneeling in front, and
dragged her under him.
Tens of dogs rushed into the crowd now, as if to break through it.
The audience ceased to howl, so as to look with greater attention.
Amidst the howling and whining were heard yet plaintive voices of
men and women: "Pro Christo! Pro Christo!" but on the arena were
formed quivering masses of the bodies of dogs and people. Blood
flowed in streams from the torn bodies. Dogs dragged from each
other the bloody limbs of people. The odor of blood and torn
entrails was stronger than Arabian perfumes, and filled the whole
Circus.
At last only here and there were visible single kneeling forms,
which were soon covered by moving squirming masses.
Vinicius, who at the moment when the Christians ran in, stood up
and turned so as to indicate to the quarryman, as he had promised,
the direction in which the Apostle was hidden among the people of
Petronius, sat down again, and with the face of a dead man
continued to look with glassy eyes on the ghastly spectacle. At first
fear that the quarryman might have been mistaken, and that
perchance Lygia was among the victims, benumbed him
completely; but when he heard the voices, "Pro Christo!" when he
saw the torture of so many victims who, in dying, confessed their
faith and their God, another feeling possessed him, piercing him
like the most dreadful pain, but irresistible. That feeling was this,
-- if Christ Himself died in torment, if thousands are perishing for
Him now, if a sea of blood is poured forth, one drop more signifies
nothing, and it is a sin even to ask for mercy. That thought came to
him from the arena, penetrated him with the groans of the dying,
with the odor of their blood. But still he prayed and repeated with
parched lips, "O Christ! O Christ! and Thy Apostle prayed for her!"
Then he forgot himself, lost consciousness of where he was. It
seemed to him that blood on the arena was rising and rising, that it
was coming up and flowing out of the Circus over all Rome. For
the rest he heard nothing, neither the howling of dogs nor the
uproar of the people nor the voices of the Augustians, who began
all at once to cry, --
"Chilo has fainted!"
"Chilo has fainted!" said Petronius, turning toward the Greek.
And he had fainted really; he sat there white as linen, his head
fallen back, his mouth wide open, like that of a corpse.
At that same moment they were urging into the arena new victims,
sewed up in skins.
These knelt immediately, like those who had gone before; but the
weary dogs would not rend them. Barely a few threw themselves
on to those kneeling nearest; but others lay down, and, raising their
bloody jaws, began to scratch their sides and yawn heavily.
Then the audience, disturbed in spirit, but drunk with blood and
wild, began to cry with hoarse voices, --
"The lions! the lions! Let out the lions!"
The lions were to be kept for the next day; but in the amphitheatres
the people imposed their will on every one, even on Caesar.
Caligula alone, insolent and changeable in his wishes, dared to
oppose them, and there were cases when he gave command to beat
the people with clubs; but even he yielded most frequently. Nero,
to whom plaudits were dearer than all else in the world, never
resisted. All the more did he not resist now, when it was a question
of mollifying the populace, excited after the conflagration, and a
question of the Christians, on whom he wished to cast the blame of
the catastrophe.
He gave the sign therefore to open the cuniculum, seeing which,
the people were calmed in a moment. They heard the creaking of
the doors behind which were the lions. At sight of the lions the
dogs gathered with low whines, on the opposite side of the arena.
The lions walked into the arena one after another, immense,
tawny, with great shaggy heads. Caesar himself turned his wearied
face toward them, and placed the emerald to his eye to see better.
The Augustians greeted them with applause; the crowd counted
them on their fingers, and followed eagerly the impression which
the sight of them would make on the Christians kneeling in the
centre, who again had begun to repeat the words, without meaning
for many, though annoying to all, "Pro Christo! Pro Christo!"
But the lions, though hungry, did not hasten to their victims. The
ruddy light in the arena dazzled them and they half closed their
eyes as if dazed. Some stretched their yellowish bodies lazily;
some, opening their jaws, yawned, -- one might have said that they
wanted to show their terrible teeth to the audience. But later the
odor of blood and torn bodies, many of which were lying on the
sand, began to act on them. Soon their movements became
restless, their manes rose, their nostrils drew in the air with hoarse
sound. One fell suddenly on the body of a woman with a torn face,
and, lying with his fore paws on the body, licked with a rough
tongue the stiffened blood: another approached a man who was
holding in his arms a child sewed up in a fawn's skin.
The child, trembling from crying, and weeping, clung convulsively
to the neck of its father; he, to prolong its life even for a moment,
tried to pull it from his neck, so as to hand it to those kneeling
farther on. But the cry and the movement irritated the lion. All at
once he gave out a short, broken roar, killed the child with one
blow of his paw, and seizing the head of the father in his jaws,
crushed it in a twinkle.
At sight of this all the other lions fell upon the crowd of Christians.
Some women could not restrain cries of terror; but the audience
drowned these with plaudits, which soon ceased, however, for the
wish to see gained the mastery. They beheld terrible things then:
heads disappearing entirely in open jaws, breasts torn apart with
one blow, hearts and lungs swept away; the crushing of bones
under the teeth of lions. Some lions, seizing victims by the ribs or
loins, ran with mad springs through the arena, as if seeking hidden
places in which to devour them; others fought, rose on their hind
legs, grappled one another like wrestlers, and filled the
amphitheatre with thunder. People rose from their places. Some
left their seats, went down lower through the passages to see
better, and crowded one another mortally. It seemed that the
excited multitude would throw itself at last into the arena, and
rend the Christians in company with the lions. At moments an
unearthly noise was heard; at moments applause; at moments
roaring, rumbling, the clashing of teeth, the howling of Molossian
dogs; at times only groans.
Caesar, holding the emerald to his eye, looked now with attention.
The face of Petronius assumed an expression of contempt and
disgust. Chilo had been borne out of the Circus.
But from the cuniculum new victims were driven forth continually.
From the highest row in the amphitheatre the Apostle Peter looked
at them. No one saw him, for all heads were turned to the arena;
so he rose and as formerly in the vineyard of Cornelius he had
blessed for death and eternity those who were intended for
imprisonment, so now he blessed with the cross those who were
perishing under the teeth of wild beasts. He blessed their blood,
their torture, their dead bodies turned into shapeless masses, and
their souls flying away from the bloody sand. Some raised their
eyes to him, and their faces grew radiant; they smiled when they
saw high above them the sign of the cross. But his heart was rent,
and he said, "O Lord! let Thy will be done. These my sheep perish
to Thy glory in testimony of the truth. Thou didst command me to
feed them; hence I give them to Thee, and do Thou count them,
Lord, take them, heal their wounds, soften their pain, give them
happiness greater than the torments which they suffered here."
And he blessed them one after another, crowd after crowd, with as
much love as if they had been his children whom he was giving
directly into the hands of Christ. Then Caesar, whether from
madness, or the wish that the exhibition should surpass everything
seen in Rome so far, whispered a few words to the prefect of the
city. He left the podium and went at once to the cuniculum. Even
the populace were astonished when, after a while, they saw the
gratings open again. Beasts of all kinds were let out this time, --
tigers from the Euphrates, Numidian panthers, bears, wolves,
hyenas, and jackals. The whole arena was covered as with a
moving sea of striped, yellow, flax-colored, dark-brown, and
spotted skins. There rose a chaos in which the eye could
distinguish nothing save a terrible turning and twisting of the
backs of wild beasts. The spectacle lost the appearance of reality,
and became as it were an orgy of blood, a dreadful dream, a
gigantic kaleidoscope of mad fancy. The measure was surpassed.
Amidst roars, howls, whines, here and there on the seats of the
spectators were heard the terrified and spasmodic laughter of
women, whose strength had given way at last. The people were
terrified. Faces grew dark. Various voices began to cry, "Enough!
enough!"
But it was easier to let the beasts in than drive them back again.
Caesar, however, found a means of clearing the arena, and a new
amusement for the people. In all the passages between the seats
appeared detachments of Numidians, black and stately, in feathers
and earrings, with bows in their hands. The people divined what
was coming, and greeted the archers with a shout of delight. The
Numidians approached the railing, and, putting their arrows to the
strings, began to shoot from their bows into the crowd of beasts.
That was a new spectacle truly. Their bodies, shapely as if cut
from dark marble, bent backward, stretched the flexible bows, and
sent bolt after bolt. The whizzing of the strings and the whistling
of the feathered missiles were mingled with the howling of beasts
and cries of wonder from the audience. Wolves, bears, panthers,
and people yet alive fell side by side. Here and there a lion, feeling
a shaft in his ribs, turned with sudden movement, his jaws
wrinkled from rage, to seize and break the arrow. Others groaned
from pain. The small beasts, falling into a panic, ran around the
arena at random, or thrust their heads into the grating; meanwhile
the arrows whizzed and whizzed on, till all that was living had lain
down in the final quiver of death.
Hundreds of slaves rushed into the arena armed with spades,
shovels, brooms, wheelbarrows, baskets for carrying out entrails,
and bags of sand. They came, crowd after crowd, and over the
whole circle there seethed up a feverish activity. The space was
soon cleared of bodies, blood, and mire, dug over, made smooth,
and sprinkled with a thick layer of fresh sand. That done, Cupids
ran in, scattering leaves of roses, lilies, and the greatest variety of
flowers. The censers were ignited again, and the velarium was
removed, for the sun had sunk now considerably. But people
looked at one another with amazement, and inquired what kind of
new spectacle was waiting for them on that day.
Indeed, such a spectacle was waiting as no one had looked for.
Caesar, who had left the podium some time before, appeared all at
once on the flowery arena, wearing a purple mantle, and a crown
of gold. Twelve choristers holding citharae followed him. He had a
silver lute, and advanced with solemn tread to the middle, bowed a
number of times to the spectators, raised his eyes, and stood as if
waiting for inspiration.
Then he struck the strings and began to sing, --
"O radiant son of Leto,
Ruler of Tenedos, Chios, Chrysos,
Art thou he who, having in his care
The sacred city of Ilion,
Could yield it to Argive anger,
And suffer sacred altars,
Which blazed unceasingly to his honor,
To be stained with Trojan blood?
Aged men raised trembling hands to thee,
O thou of the far-shooting silver bow,
Mothers from the depth of their breasts
Raised tearful cries to thee,
Imploring pity on their offspring.
Those complaints might have moved a stone,
But to the suffering of people
Thou, O Smintheus, wert less feeling than a stone!"
The song passed gradually into an elegy, plaintive and full of pain.
In the Circus there was silence. After a while Caesar, himself
affected, sang on, --
"With the sound of thy heavenly lyre
Thou couldst drown the wailing,
The lament of hearts.
At the sad sound of this song
The eye to-day is filled with tears,
As a flower is filled with dew,
But who can raise from dust and ashes
That day of fire, disaster, ruin?
O Smintheus, where wert thou then?"
Here his voice quivered and his eyes grew moist. Tears appeared
on the lids of the vestals; the people listened in silence before they
burst into a long unbroken storm of applause.
Meanwhile from outside through the vomitoria came the sound of
creaking vehicles on which were placed the bloody remnants of
Christians, men, women, and children, to be taken to the pits
called "puticuli."
But the Apostle Peter seized his trembling white head with his
hands, and cried in spirit, --
"O Lord, O Lord! to whom hast Thou given rule ovcr the earth, and
why wilt Thou found in this place Thy capital?"
1 I seek not thee, I seek a fish;
Why flee from me O Gaul?"
2 Christ reigns _
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