Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero

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by Henryk Sienkiewicz


  Chapter LVII

  THREE days' rain, an exceptional phenomenon in Rome during summer, andhail falling in opposition to the natural order, not only in the day,but even at night, interrupted the spectacles. People were growingalarmed. A failure of grapes was predicted, and when on a certainafternoon a thunderbolt melted the bronze statue of Ceres on theCapitol, sacrifices were ordered in the temple of Jupiter Salvator. Thepriests of Ceres spread a report that the anger of the gods was turnedon the city because of the too hasty punishment of Christians; hencecrowds began to insist that the spectacles be given without reference toweather. Delight seized all Rome when the announcement was made at lastthat the ludus would begin again after three days' interval.

  Meanwhile beautiful weather returned. The amphitheatre was filled atdaybreak with thousands of people. Caesar came early with the vestalsand the court. The spectacle was to begin with a battle among theChristians, who to this end were arrayed as gladiators and furnishedwith all kinds of weapons which served gladiators by profession inoffensive and defensive struggles. But here came disappointment.The Christians threw nets, darts, tridents, and swords on the arena,embraced and encouraged one another to endurance in view of torture anddeath. At this deep indignation and resentment seized the hearts ofthe multitude. Some reproached the Christians with cowardice andpusillanimity; others asserted that they refused to fight through hatredof the people, so as to deprive them of that pleasure which the sight ofbravery produces. Finally, at command of Caesar, real gladiators were letout, who despatched in one twinkle the kneeling and defenceless victims.

  When these bodies were removed, the spectacle was a series of mythologicpictures,--Caesar's own idea. The audience saw Hercules blazing in livingfire on Mount Oeta. Vinicius had trembled at the thought that the roleof Hercules might be intended for Ursus; but evidently the turn ofLygia's faithful servant had not come, for on the pile some otherChristian was burning,--a man quite unknown to Vinicius. In thenext picture Chilo, whom Caesar would not excuse from attendance, sawacquaintances. The death of Daedalus was represented, and also that ofIcarus. In the role of Daedalus appeared Euricius, that old man who hadgiven Chilo the sign of the fish; the role of Icarus was taken by hisson, Quartus. Both were raised aloft with cunning machinery, and thenhurled suddenly from an immense height to the arena. Young Quartusfell so near Caesar's podium that he spattered with blood not only theexternal ornaments but the purple covering spread over the front of thepodium. Chilo did not see the fall, for he closed his eyes; but he heardthe dull thump of the body, and when after a time he saw blood thereclose to him, he came near fainting a second time.

  The pictures changed quickly. The shameful torments of maidens violatedbefore death by gladiators dressed as wild beasts, delighted the heartsof the rabble. They saw priestesses of Cybele and Ceres, they saw theDanaides, they saw Dirce and Pasiphae; finally they saw young girls,not mature yet, torn asunder by wild horses. Every moment the crowdapplauded new ideas of Nero, who, proud of them, and made happy byplaudits, did not take the emerald from his eye for one instant whilelooking at white bodies torn with iron, and the convulsive quivering ofvictims.

  Pictures were given also from the history of the city. After the maidensthey saw Mucius Scaevola, whose hand fastened over a fire to a tripodfilled the amphitheatre with the odor of burnt flesh; but this man,like the real Scaevola, remained without a groan, his eyes raised andthe murmur of prayer on his blackening lips. When he had expired and hisbody was dragged to the spoliarium, the usual midday interlude followed.Caesar with the vestals and the Augustians left the amphitheatre, andwithdrew to an immense scarlet tent erected purposely; in this wasprepared for him and the guests a magnificent prandium. The spectatorsfor the greater part followed his example, and, streaming out, disposedthemselves in picturesque groups around the tent, to rest their limbswearied from long sitting, and enjoy the food which, through Caesar'sfavor, was served by slaves to them. Only the most curious descended tothe arena itself, and, touching with their fingers lumps of sand heldtogether by blood, conversed, as specialists and amateurs, of that whichhad happened and of that which was to follow. Soon even these went away,lest they might be late for the feast; only those few were left whostayed not through curiosity, but sympathy for the coming victims. Thoseconcealed themselves behind seats or in the lower places.

  Meanwhile the arena was levelled, and slaves began to dig holes one nearthe other in rows throughout the whole circuit from side to side, sothat the last row was but a few paces distant from Caesar's podium. Fromoutside came the murmur of people, shouts and plaudits, while withinthey were preparing in hot haste for new tortures. The cunicula wereopened simultaneously, and in all passages leading to the arena wereurged forward crowds of Christians naked and carrying crosses on theirshoulders. The whole arena was filled with them. Old men, bending underthe weight of wooden beams, ran forward; at the side of these went menin the prime of life, women with loosened hair behind which they stroveto hide their nakedness, small boys, and little children. The crosses,for the greater part, as well as the victims, were wreathed withflowers. The servants of the amphitheatre beat the unfortunates withclubs, forcing them to lay down their crosses near the holes prepared,and stand themselves there in rows. Thus were to perish those whomexecutioners had had no chance to drive out as food for dogs and wildbeasts the first day of the games. Black slaves seized the victims, laidthem face upward on the wood, and fell to nailing their hands hurriedlyand quickly to the arms of the crosses, so that people returningafter the interlude might find all the crosses standing. The wholeamphitheatre resounded with the noise of hammers which echoed throughall the rows, went out to the space surrounding the amphitheatre, andinto the tent where Caesar was entertaining his suite and the vestals.There he drank wine, bantered with Chilo, and whispered strange wordsin the ears of the priestesses of Vesta; but on the arena the work wasseething,--nails were going into the hands and feet of the Christians;shovels moved quickly, filling the holes in which the crosses had beenplanted.

  Among the new victims whose turn was to come soon was Crispus. The lionshad not had time to rend him; hence he was appointed to the cross. He,ready at all times for death, was delighted with the thought that hishour was approaching. He seemed another man, for his emaciated body waswholly naked,--only a girdle of ivy encircled his hips, on his head wasa garland of roses. But in his eyes gleamed always that same exhaustlessenergy; that same fanatical stern face gazed from beneath the crown ofroses. Neither had his heart changed; for, as once in the cuniculum hehad threatened with the wrath of God his brethren sewed up in the skinsof wild beasts, so to-day he thundered in place of consoling them.

  "Thank the Redeemer," said Crispus, "that He permits you to die the samedeath that He Himself died. Maybe a part of your sins will be remittedfor this cause; but tremble, since justice must be satisfied, and therecannot be one reward for the just and the wicked."

  His words were accompanied by the sound of the hammers nailing the handsand feet of victims. Every moment more crosses were raised on thearena; but he, turning to the crowd standing each man by his own cross,continued,--

  "I see heaven open, but I see also the yawning abyss. I know not whataccount of my life to give the Lord, though I have believed, and hatedevil. I fear, not death, but resurrection; I fear, not torture, butjudgment, for the day of wrath is at hand."

  At that moment was heard from between the nearest rows some voice, calmand solemn,--

  "Not the day of wrath, but of mercy, the day of salvation and happiness;for I say that Christ will gather you in, will comfort you and seat youat His right hand. Be confident, for heaven is opening before you."

  At these words all eyes were turned to the benches; even those who werehanging on the crosses raised their pale, tortured faces, and lookedtoward the man who was speaking.

  But he went to the barrier surrounding the arena, and blessed them withthe sign of the cross.

  Crispus stretched out his arm as if to thunder at him; but when he sa
wthe man's face, he dropped his arm, the knees bent under him, and hislips whispered, "Paul the Apostle!"

  To the great astonishment of the servants of the Circus, all of thosewho were not nailed to the crosses yet knelt down. Paul turned toCrispus and said,

  "Threaten them not, Crispus, for this day they will be with thee inparadise. It is thy thought that they may be condemned. But who willcondemn?

  "Will God, who gave His Son for them? Will Christ, who died for theirsalvation, condemn when they die for His name? And how is it possiblethat He who loves can condemn? Who will accuse the chosen of God? Whowill say of this blood, 'It is cursed'?"

  "I have hated evil," said the old priest.

  "Christ's command to love men was higher than that to hate evil, for Hisreligion is not hatred, but love."

  "I have sinned in the hour of death," answered Crispus, beating hisbreast. The manager of the seats approached the Apostle, and inquired,

  "Who art thou, speaking to the condemned?"

  "A Roman citizen," answered Paul, calmly. Then, turning to Crispus,he said: "Be confident, for to-day is a day of grace; die in peace, Oservant of God."

  The black men approached Crispus at that moment to place him on thecross; but he looked around once again, and cried,--

  "My brethren, pray for me!"

  His face had lost its usual sternness; his stony features had taken anexpression of peace and sweetness. He stretched his arms himself alongthe arms of the cross, to make the work easier, and, looking directlyinto heaven, began to pray earnestly. He seemed to feel nothing; forwhen the nails entered his hands, not the least quiver shook his body,nor on his face did there appear any wrinkle of pain. He prayed whenthey raised the cross and trampled the earth around it. Only when crowdsbegan to fill the amphitheatre with shouts and laughter did his browsfrown somewhat, as if in anger that a pagan people were disturbing thecalm and peace of a sweet death.

  But all the crosses had been raised, so that in the arena there stood asit were a forest, with people hanging on the trees. On the arms of thecrosses and on the heads of the martyrs fell the gleam of the sun; buton the arena was a deep shadow, forming a kind of black involved gratingthrough which glittered the golden sand. That was a spectacle in whichthe whole delight of the audience consisted in looking at a lingeringdeath. Never before had men seen such a density of crosses. The arenawas packed so closely that the servants squeezed between them only witheffort. On the edges were women especially; but Crispus, as a leader,was raised almost in front of Caesar's podium, on an immense cross,wreathed below with honeysuckle. None of the victims had died yet,but some of those fastened earlier had fainted. No one groaned; no onecalled for mercy. Some were hanging with head inclined on one arm,or dropped on the breast, as if seized by sleep; some were as if inmeditation; some, looking toward heaven, were moving their lips quietly.In this terrible forest of crosses, among those crucified bodies, inthat silence of victims there was something ominous. The people who,filled by the feast and gladsome, had returned to the Circus withshouts, became silent, not knowing on which body to rest their eyes, orwhat to think of the spectacle. The nakedness of strained female formsroused no feeling. They did not make the usual bets as to who would diefirst,--a thing done generally when there was even the smallest numberof criminals on the arena. It seemed that Caesar himself was bored, forhe turned lazily and with drowsy expression to arrange his necklace.

  At that moment Crispus, who was hanging opposite, and who, like a manin a faint or dying, had kept his eyes closed, opened them and looked atCaesar. His face assumed an expression so pitiless, and his eyes flashedwith such fire, that the Augustians whispered to one another, pointingat him with their fingers, and at last Caesar himself turned to thatcross, and placed the emerald to his eye sluggishly.

  Perfect silence followed. The eyes of the spectators were fixed onCrispus, who strove to move his right hand, as if to tear it from thetree.

  After a while his breast rose, his ribs were visible, and he cried:"Matricide! woe to thee!"

  The Augustians, hearing this mortal insult flung at the lord of theworld in presence of thousands, did not dare to breathe. Chilo was halfdead. Caesar trembled, and dropped the emerald from his fingers. Thepeople, too, held the breath in their breasts. The voice of Crispus washeard, as it rose in power, throughout the amphitheatre,--

  "Woe to thee, murderer of wife and brother! woe to thee, Antichrist. Theabyss is opening beneath thee, death is stretching its hands to thee,the grave is waiting for thee. Woe, living corpse, for in terror shaltthou die and be damned to eternity!"

  Unable to tear his hand from the cross, Crispus strained awfully. He wasterrible,--a living skeleton; unbending as predestination, he shook hiswhite beard over Nero's podium, scattering, as he nodded, rose leavesfrom the garland on his head.

  "Woe to thee, murderer! Thy measure is surpassed, and thy hour is athand!"

  Here he made one more effort. It seemed for a moment that he would freehis hand from the cross and hold it in menace above Caesar; but all atonce his emaciated arms extended still more, his body settled down, hishead fell on his breast, and he died.

  In that forest of crosses the weakest began also the sleep of eternity.

 

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