Chapter LXII
THE drama “Aureolus” was given usually in theatres or amphitheatres,
so arranged that they could open and present as it were two separate
stages. But after the spectacle in the gardens of Cæsar the usual method
was omitted; for in this case the problem was to let the greatest number
of people look at a slave who, in the drama, is devoured by a bear. In
the theatres the role of the bear is played by an actor sewed up in a
skin, but this time the representation was to be real. This was a new
idea of Tigellinus. At first Cæsar refused to come, but changed his mind
at persuasion of the favorite. Tigellinus explained that after what had
happened in the gardens it was all the more his duty to appear before
the people, and he guaranteed that the crucified slave would not
insult him as had Crispus. The people were somewhat sated and tired of
blood-spilling; hence a new distribution of lottery tickets and gifts
was promised, as well as a feast, for the spectacle was to be in the
evening, in a brilliantly lighted amphitheatre.
About dusk the whole amphitheatre was packed; the Augustians, with
Tigellinus at the head of them, came to a man,--not only for the
spectacle itself, but to show their devotion to Cæsar and their opinion
of Chilo, of whom all Rome was then talking.
They whispered to one another that Cæsar, when returning from the
gardens, had fallen into a frenzy and could not sleep, that terrors and
wonderful visions had attacked him; therefore he had announced on the
following morning his early journey to Achæa. But others denied this,
declaring that he would be all the more pitiless to the Christians.
Cowards, however, were not lacking, who foresaw that the accusation
which Chilo had thrown into Cæsar’s face might have the worst result
possible. In conclusion, there were those who through humanity begged
Tigellinus to stop persecution.
“See whither ye are going,” said Barcus Soranus. “Ye wished to allay
people’s anger and convince them that punishment was falling on the
guilty; the result is just the opposite.”
“True!” added Antistius Verus, “all whisper to one another now that the
Christians were innocent. If that be cleverness, Chilo was right when he
said that your brains could be held in a nutshell.”
Tigellinus turned to them and said: “Barcus Soranus, people whisper also
to one another that thy daughter Servilia secreted her Christian slaves
from Cæsar’s justice; they say the same also of thy wife, Antistius.”
“That is not true!” exclaimed Barcus, with alarm.
“Your divorced women wished to ruin my wife, whose virtue they envy,”
said Antistius Verus, with no less alarm.
But others spoke of Chilo.
“What has happened to him?” asked Eprius Marcellus. “He delivered them
himself into the hands of Tigellinus; from a beggar he became rich;
it was possible for him to live out his days in peace, have a splendid
funeral, and a tomb: but, no! All at once he preferred to lose
everything and destroy himself; he must, in truth, be a maniac.”
“Not a maniac, but he has become a Christian,” said Tigellinus.
“Impossible!” said Vitelius.
“Have I not said,” put in Vestinius, “‘Kill Christians if ye like;
but believe me ye cannot war with their divinity. With it there is no
jesting’? See what is taking place. I have not burned Rome; but if Cæsar
permitted I would give a hecatomb at once to their divinity. And all
should do the same, for I repeat: With it there is no jesting! Remember
my words to you.”
“And I said something else,” added Petronius. “Tigellinus laughed when I
said that they were arming, but I say more,--they are conquering.”
“How is that? how is that?” inquired a number of voices.
“By Pollux, they are! For if such a man as Chilo could not resist them,
who can? If ye think that after every spectacle the Christians do not
increase, become coppersmiths, or go to shaving beards, for then ye will
know better what people think, and what is happening in the city.”
“He speaks pure truth, by the sacred peplus of Diana,” cried Vestinius.
But Barcus turned to Petronius.
“What is thy conclusion?”
“I conclude where ye began,--there has been enough of bloodshed.”
Tigellinus looked at him jeeringly,--“Ei!--a little more!”
“If thy head is not sufficient, thou hast another on thy cane,” said
Petronius.
Further conversation was interrupted by the coming of Cæsar, who
occupied his place in company with Pythagoras. Immediately after began
the representation of “Aureolus,” to which not much attention was paid,
for the minds of the audience were fixed on Chilo. The spectators,
familiar with blood and torture, were bored; they hissed, gave out
shouts uncomplimentary to the court, and demanded the bear scene, which
for them was the only thing of interest. Had it not been for gifts
and the hope of seeing Chilo, the spectacle would not have held the
audience.
At last the looked-for moment came. Servants of the Circus brought in
first a wooden cross, so low that a bear standing on his hind feet might
reach the martyr’s breast; then two men brought, or rather dragged in,
Chilo, for as the bones in his legs were broken, he was unable to walk
alone. They laid him down and nailed him to the wood so quickly that the
curious Augustians had not even a good look at him, and only after the
cross had been fixed in the place prepared for it did all eyes turn to
the victim. But it was a rare person who could recognize in that naked
man the former Chilo. After the tortures which Tigellinus had commanded,
there was not one drop of blood in his face, and only on his white beard
was evident a red trace left by blood after they had torn his tongue
out. Through the transparent skin it was quite possible to see his
bones. He seemed far older also, almost decrepit. Formerly his eyes
cast glances ever filled with disquiet and ill-will, his watchful face
reflected constant alarm and uncertainty; now his face had an expression
of pain, but it was as mild and calm as faces of the sleeping or the
dead. Perhaps remembrance of that thief on the cross whom Christ had
forgiven lent him confidence; perhaps, also, he said in his soul to the
merciful God,
“O Lord, I bit like a venomous worm; but all my life I was unfortunate.
I was famishing from hunger, people trampled on me, beat me, jeered at
me. I was poor and very unhappy, and now they put me to torture and nail
me to a cross; but Thou, O Merciful, wilt not reject me in this hour!”
Peace descended evidently into his crushed heart. No one laughed, for
there was in that crucified man something so calm, he seemed so old, so
defenceless, so weak, calling so much for pity with his lowliness, that
each one asked himself unconsciously how it was possible to torture
and nail to crosses men who would die soon in any case. The crowd was
silent. Among the Augustians Vestinius, bending to right and left,
whispered in a terrified voice, “See how they die!” Others were looking
for the bear, wishing the spectacle to end at the earliest.
The bear came into the arena at last, and, swaying from side to side a
head which hung low, he looked around from beneath his forehead, as if
thinking of something or seeking something. At last he saw the cross and
the naked body. He approached it, and stood on his hind legs; but after
a moment he dropped again on his fore-paws, and sitting under the cross
began to growl, as if in his heart of a beast pity for that remnant of a
man had made itself heard.
Cries were heard from Circus slaves urging on the bear, but the people
were silent.
Meanwhile Chilo raised his head with slow motion, and for a time moved
his eyes over the audience. At last his glance rested somewhere on the
highest rows of the amphitheatre; his breast moved with more life,
and something happened which caused wonder and astonishment. That face
became bright with a smile; a ray of light, as it were, encircled that
forehead; his eyes were uplifted before death, and after a while two
great tears which had risen between the lids flowed slowly down his
face.
And he died.
At that same moment a resonant manly voice high up under the velarium
exclaimed,--
“Peace to the martyrs!”
Deep silence reigned in the amphitheatre.