CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE MARTYRDOM.
Callista had sighed for the bright and clear atmosphere of Greece, and shewas thrown into the Robur and plunged into the Barathrum of Sicca. But inreality, though she called it Greece, she was panting after a bettercountry and a more lasting home, and this country and home she had found.She was now setting out for it.
It was, indeed, no slight marvel that she was not already there. She hadbeen lowered into that pit of death before noon on the day of her secondexamination, and, excepting some unwholesome bread and water, according tothe custom of the prison, had had no food since she came into the custodyof the _commentariensis_ the day before. The order came from themagistrates to bring her out earlier in the morning than was intended, orthe prison might have really effected that death which Calphurnius hadpurposed to pretend. When the apparitors attempted to raise her, sheneither spoke or moved, nor could well be seen. "Black as Orcus," said oneof the fellows, "another torch there! I can't see where she nestles.""There she is, like a bundle of clothes," said another. "Madam gets uplate this morning," said a third. "She's used to softer couches," said afourth. "Ha! ha! 'tis a spoiler of beauty, this hole," said a fifth. "Sheis the demon of stubbornness, and must be crushed," said the jailer; "shelikes it, or she would not choose it." "The plague take the witch," saidanother; "we shall have better seasons when a few like her are ferretedout."
They got her out like a corpse, and put her on the ground outside theprison. When she still did not move, two of them took her between them ontheir shoulders and arms, and began to move forward, the instrument oftorture preceding her. The fresh air of the morning revived her; she soonsat up. She seemed to drink in life again, and became conscious. "Obeautiful Light!" she whispered, "O lovely Light, my light and my life! Omy Light and my Life, receive me!" Gradually she became fully alive to allthat was going on. She was going to death, and that rather than deny Himwho had bought her by His own death. He had suffered for her, and she wasto suffer for Him. He had been racked on the Cross, she too was to haveher limbs dislocated after His pattern. She scarcely rested on the men'sshoulders; and they vowed afterwards that they thought she was going tofly away, vile witch as she was.
"The witch, the witch," the mob screamed out, for she had now come to theplace of her conflict. "_We'll_ pay you off for blight and pestilence!Where's our bread, where's the maize and barley, where are the grapes?"And they uttered fierce yells of execration, and seemed disposed to breakthrough the line of apparitors, and to tear her to pieces. Yet, after all,it was not a very hearty uproar, but got up for the occasion. The populacehad spent their force, not to say their lives, in the riot in which shewas apprehended. The priests and priestesses of the temples had sent thepoor wretches and paid them.
The place of execution was on the north-east of the city, outside thewalls, and towards the mountain. It was where slaves were buried, and itwas as hideous as such spots usually were. The neighbourhood was wild,open to the beasts of prey, who at night used to descend and feast uponthe corpses. As Callista approached to the scene of her suffering, theexpression of her countenance had so altered that a friend would scarcehave known it. There was a tenderness in it and a modesty which never hadbeen there in that old time. Her cheek had upon it a blush, as when therising sun suddenly touches some grey rock or tower yet it was white andglistening too, so much so that others might have said it was like silver.Her eyes were larger than they had been, and gazed steadfastly, as if atwhat the multitude did not see. Her lips spoke of sweet peace and deepcomposure. When at length she came close upon the rabble, who had beenscreaming and yelling so fiercely, men, women, and boys suddenly heldtheir peace. It was first from curiosity, then from amazement, then fromawe. At length a fear smote through them, and a strange pity andreverence. They almost seemed inclined to worship what stirred them somuch, they knew not how; a new idea had visited those poor ignorant souls.
A few minutes sufficed to put the rack into working order. She was laiddown upon its board in her poor bedimmed tunic, which once flashed sobright in the sun,--she who had been ever so delicate in her apparel. Herwrists and ankles were seized, extended, fastened to the moveable blocksat the extremities of the plank. She spoke her last word, "For Thee, myLord and Love, for Thee!... Accept me, O my Love, upon this bed of pain!And come to me, O my Love, make haste and come!" The men turned round thewheels rapidly to and fro; the joints were drawn out of their sockets, andthen snapped in again. She had fainted. They waited for her coming-to;they still waited; they got impatient.
"Dash some water on her," said one. "Spit in her face, and it will do,"said a second. "Prick her with your spike," said a third. "Hold your wildtalk," said a fourth; "she's gone to the shades." They gathered round, andlooked at her attentively. They could not bring her back. So it was: shehad gone to her Lord and her Love.
"Lay her out for the wolves and vultures," said the _cornicularius_, andhe was going to appoint guards till nightfall, when up came the_stationarii_ and Calphurnius in high wrath.
"You dogs!" he cried, "what trick have you been practising against thesoldiers of Rome?" However, expostulation and reproach were bootless; norwould it answer here to go into the quarrel which ensued over the deadbody. The magistrates, having got scent of Calphurnius's scheme, hadoutwitted the tribune by assigning an earlier hour than was usual for theexecution. Life could not be recalled; nor did the soldiers of course darepublicly to disobey the Proconsul's order for the exposure of the corpse.All that could be done, they did. They took her down with rude reverencefrom the rack, and placed her on the sand; and then they set guards tokeep off the rabble, and to avail themselves of any opportunity whichmight occur to show consideration towards her.
Callista : a Tale of the Third Century Page 46
