Books: Quo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero

H >> Henryk Sienkiewicz >> Quo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero

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"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!"