Suddenly, comes a continuous roaring, strong and cavernous, like the noise of water in an aqueduct: and, opposite him, he perceives, behind the bars of another cage, a lion, who is walking up and down; then a row of sandals, of naked legs, and of purple fringes.
Overhead, groups of people, ranged symmetrically, widen out from the lowest circle, which encloses the arena, to the highest, where masts have been raised to support a veil of hyacinth hung in the air on ropes. Staircases, which radiate towards the centre, intersect, at equal distances, those great circles of stone. Their steps disappear from view, owing to the vast audience seated thereknights, senators, soldiers, common people, vestals and courtesans, in woollen hoods, in silk maniples, in tawny tunics with aigrettes of precious stones, tufts of feathers and lictors' rods; and all this assemblage, muttering, exclaiming, tumultuous and frantic, stuns him like an immense tub boiling over. In the midst of the arena, upon an altar, smokes a vessel of incense.
The people who surround him are Christians, delivered up to the wild beasts. The men wear the red cloak of the highpriests of Saturn, the women the fillets of Ceres. Their friends distribute fragments of their garments and rings. In order to gain admittance into the prison, they require, they say, a great deal of money; but what does it matter? They will remain till the end.
Amongst these consolers Antony observes a bald man in a black tunic, a portion of whose face is plainly visible. He discourses with them on the nothingness of the world, and the happiness of the Elect. Antony is filled with transports of Divine love. He longs for the opportunity of sacrificing his life for the Saviour, not knowing whether he is himself one of these martyrs. But, save a Phrygian, with long hair, who keeps his arms raised, they all have a melancholy aspect. An old man is sobbing on a bench, and a young man, who is standing, is musing with downcast eyes.
The people who surround him are Christians, delivered up to the wild beasts. The men wear the red cloak of the highpriests of Saturn, the women the fillets of Ceres. Their friends distribute fragments of their garments and rings. In order to gain admittance into the prison, they require, they say, a great deal of money; but what does it matter? They will remain till the end.
Amongst these consolers Antony observes a bald man in a black tunic, a portion of whose face is plainly visible. He discourses with them on the nothingness of the world, and the happiness of the Elect. Antony is filled with transports of Divine love. He longs for the opportunity of sacrificing his life for the Saviour, not knowing whether he is himself one of these martyrs. But, save a Phrygian, with long hair, who keeps his arms raised, they all have a melancholy aspect. An old man is sobbing on a bench, and a young man, who is standing, is musing with downcast eyes.
The old man has refused to pay tribute at the angle of a crossroad, before a statue of Minerva; and he regards his companions with a look which signifies:
"You ought to succour me! Communities sometimes make arrangements by which they might be left in peace. Many amongst you have even obtained letters falsely declaring that you have offered sacrifice to idols."
He asks:
"Is it not Peter of Alexandria who has regulated what one ought to do when one is overcome by tortures?"
Then, to himself:
"Ah! this is very hard at my age! my infirmities render me so feeble! Perchance, I might have lived to another winter!"
The recollection of his little garden moves him to tears; and he contemplates the side of the altar.
The young man, who had disturbed by violence a feast of Apollo, murmurs:
"My only chance was to fly to the mountains!"
"The soldiers would have caught you," says one of the brethren.
"Oh! I could have done like Cyprian; I should have come back; and the second time I should have had more strength, you may be sure!"
Then he thinks of the countless days he should have lived, with all the pleasures which he will not have known;and he, likewise, contemplates the side of the altar.
But the man in the black tunic rushes up to him:
"How scandalous! What? You a victim of election? Think of all these women who are looking at you! And then, God sometimes performs a miracle. Pionius benumbed the hands of his executioners; and the blood of Polycarp extinguished the flames of his funeralpile."
He turns towards the old man. "Father, father! You ought to edify us by your death. By deferring it, you will, without doubt, commit some bad action which will destroy the fruit of your good deeds. Besides, the power of God is infinite. Perhaps your example will convert the entire people."
And, in the den opposite, the lions stride up and down, without stopping, rapidly, with a continuous movement. The largest of them all at once fixes his eyes on Antony and emits a roar, and a mass of vapour issues from his jaws.
The women are jammed up against the men.
The consoler goes from one to another:
"What would ye saywhat would any of you sayif they burned you with plates of iron; if horses tore you asunder; if your body, coated with honey, was devoured by insects? You will have only the death of a hunter who is surprised in a wood."
Antony would much prefer all this than the horrible wild beasts; he imagines he feels their teeth and their talons, and that he hears his back cracking under their jaws.
A belluarius enters the dungeon; the martyrs tremble. One alone amongst them is unmovedthe Phrygian, who has gone into a corner to pray. He had burned three temples. He now advances with lifted arms, open mouth, and his head towards Heaven, without seeing anything, like a somnambulist.
The consoler exclaims:
"Keep back! Keep back! The Spirit of Montanus will destroy ye!"
All fall back, vociferating:
"Damnation to the Montanist!"
They insult him, spit upon him, would like to strike him. The lions, prancing, bite one another's manes. The people yell:
"To the beasts! To the beasts!"
The martyrs, bursting into sobs, catch hold of one another. A cup of narcotic wine is offered to them. They quickly pass it from hand to hand.
Near the door of the den another belluarius awaits the signal. It opens; a lion comes out.
He crosses the arena with great irregular strides. Behind him in a row appear the other lions, then a bear, three panthers, and leopards. They scatter like a flock in a prairie.
The cracking of a whip is heard. The Christians stagger, and, in order to make an end of it, their brethren push them forward.
Antony closes his eyes.
He opens them again. But darkness envelops him. Ere long, it grows bright once more; and he is able to trace the outlines of a plain, arid and covered with knolls, such as may be seen around a deserted quarry. Here and there a clump of shrubs lifts itself in the midst of the slabs, which are on a level with the soil, and above which white forms are bending, more undefined than clouds. Others rapidly make their appearance. Eyes shine through the openings of long veils. By their indolent gait and the perfumes which exhale from them, Antony knows they are ladies of patrician rank. There are also men, but of inferior condition, for they have visages at the same time simple and coarse.
One of the women, with a long breath:
"Ah! how pleasant is the air of the chilly night in the midst of sepulchres! I am so fatigued with the softness of couches, the noise of day, and the oppressiveness of the sun!"
A woman, panting"Ah! at last, here I am! But how irksome to have wedded an idolater!"
Another"The visits to the prisons, the conversations with our brethren, all excite the suspicions of our husbands! And we must even hide ourselves from them when making the sign of the Cross; they would take it for a magical conjuration."
Another"With mine, there was nothing but quarrelling all day long. I did not like to submit to the abuses to which he subjected my person; and, for revenge, he had me persecuted as a Christian."
Another"Recall to your memory that young man of such striking beauty who was dragged by the heels behind a chariot, like Hector, from the Esquiline Gate to the Mountains of Tibur; and his blood stained the bushes on both sides of the road. I collected the dropshere they are!"
She draws from her bosom a sponge perfectly black, covers it with kisses, and then flings herself upon the slab, crying:
"Ah! my friend! my friend!"
A man"It is just three years today since Domitilla's death. She was stoned at the bottom of the Wood of Proserpine. I gathered her bones, which shone like glowworms in the grass. The earth now covers them."
He flings himself upon a tombstone.
"O my betrothed! my betrothed!"
And all the others, scattered through the plain:
"O my sister!" "O my brother!" "O my daughter!" "O my mother!"
They are on their knees, their foreheads clasped with their hands, or their bodies lying flat with both arms extended; and the sobs which they repress make their bosoms swell almost to bursting. They gaze up at the sky, saying:
"Have pity on her soul, O my God! She is languishing in the abode of shadows. Deign to admit her into the Resurrection, so that she may rejoice in Thy light!"
Or, with eyes fixed on the flagstones, they murmur:
"Be at restsuffer no more! I have brought thee wine and meat!"
"Have pity on her soul, O my God! She is languishing in the abode of shadows. Deign to admit her into the Resurrection, so that she may rejoice in Thy light!"
Or, with eyes fixed on the flagstones, they murmur:
"Be at restsuffer no more! I have brought thee wine and meat!"
A widow"Here is pudding, made by me, according to his taste, with many eggs, and a double measure of flour. We are going to eat together as of yore, is not that so?"
She puts a little of it on her lips, and suddenly begins to laugh in an extravagant fashion, frantically.
The others, like her, nibble a morsel and drink a mouthful; they tell one another the history of their martyrs; their sorrow becomes vehement; their libations increase; their eyes, swimming with tears, are fixed on one another; they stammer with inebriety and desolation. Gradually their hands touch; their lips meet; their veils are torn away, and they embrace one another upon the tombs in the midst of the cups and the torches.