Bear me to bed, and send for your physician; old AEsculapius himself
will attend me if you let him know that I am Greek. Oh, mercy--mercy!
I burn!--marrow and brain, I burn!'
And, with a thrilling and fierce groan, the Athenian fell back in the
arms of the bystanders.
'He raves,' said the officer, compassionately; 'and in his delirium he
has struck the priest. Hath any one present seen him to-day!'
'I,' said one of the spectators, 'beheld him in the morning. He passed
my shop and accosted me. He seemed well and sane as the stoutest of
us!'
'And I saw him half an hour ago,' said another, 'passing up the streets,
muttering to himself with strange gestures, and just as the Egyptian has
described.'
'A corroboration of the witness! it must be too true. He must at all
events to the praetor; a pity, so young and so rich! But the crime is
dreadful: a priest of Isis, in his very robes, too, and at the base
itself of our most ancient chapel!'
At these words the crowd were reminded more forcibly, than in their
excitement and curiosity they had yet been, of the heinousness of the
sacrilege. They shuddered in pious horror.
'No wonder the earth has quaked,' said one, 'when it held such a
monster!'
'Away with him to prison--away!' cried they all.
And one solitary voice was heard shrilly and joyously above the rest:
'The beasts will not want a gladiator now, Ho, ho, for the merry, merry
show!
It was the voice of the young woman whose conversation with Medon has
been repeated.
'True--true--it chances in season for the games!' cried several; and at
that thought all pity for the accused seemed vanished. His youth, his
beauty, but fitted him better for the purpose of the arena.
'Bring hither some planks--or if at hand, a litter--to bear the dead,'
said Arbaces: 'a priest of Isis ought scarcely to be carried to his
temple by vulgar hands, like a butchered gladiator.'
At this the bystanders reverently laid the corpse of Apaecides on the
ground, with the face upwards; and some of them went in search of some
contrivance to bear the body, untouched by the profane.
It was just at that time that the crowd gave way to right and left as a
sturdy form forced itself through, and Olinthus the Christian stood
immediately confronting the Egyptian. But his eyes, at first, only
rested with inexpressible grief and horror on that gory side and
upturned face, on which the agony of violent death yet lingered.
'Murdered!' he said. 'Is it thy zeal that has brought thee to this?
Have they detected thy noble purpose, and by death prevented their own
shame?'
He turned his head abruptly, and his eyes fell full on the solemn
features of the Egyptian.
As he looked, you might see in his face, and even the slight shiver of
his frame, the repugnance and aversion which the Christian felt for one
whom he knew to be so dangerous and so criminal. It was indeed the gaze
of the bird upon the basilisk--so silent was it and so prolonged. But
shaking off the sudden chill that had crept over him, Olinthus extended
his right arm towards Arbaces, and said, in a deep and loud voice:
'Murder hath been done upon this corpse! Where is the murderer? Stand
forth, Egyptian! For, as the Lord liveth, I believe thou art the man!'
An anxious and perturbed change might for one moment be detected on the
dusky features of Arbaces; but it gave way to the frowning expression of
indignation and scorn, as, awed and arrested by the suddenness and
vehemence of the charge, the spectators pressed nearer and nearer upon
the two more prominent actors.
'I know,' said Arbaces, proudly, 'who is my accuser, and I guess
wherefore he thus arraigns me. Men and citizens, know this man for the
most bitter of the Nazarenes, if that or Christians be their proper
name! What marvel that in his malignity he dares accuse even an
Egyptian of the murder of a priest of Egypt!'
'I know him! I know the dog!' shouted several voices. 'It is Olinthus
the Christian--or rather the Atheist--he denies the gods!'
'Peace, brethren,' said Olinthus, with dignity, 'and hear me! This
murdered priest of Isis before his death embraced the Christian
faith--he revealed to me the dark sins, the sorceries of yon
Egyptian--the mummeries and delusions of the fane of Isis. He was about
to declare them publicly. He, a stranger, unoffending, without enemies!
who should shed his blood but one of those who feared his witness? Who
might fear that testimony the most?--Arbaces, the Egyptian!'
'You hear him!' said Arbaces; 'you hear him! he blasphemes! Ask him if
he believes in Isis!'
'Do I believe in an evil demon?' returned Olinthus, boldly.
A groan and shudder passed through the assembly. Nothing daunted, for
prepared at every time for peril, and in the present excitement losing
all prudence, the Christian continued:
'Back, idolaters! this clay is not for your vain and polluting rites--it
is to us--to the followers of Christ, that the last offices due to a
Christian belong. I claim this dust in the name of the great Creator
who has recalled the spirit!'
With so solemn and commanding a voice and aspect the Christian spoke
these words, that even the crowd forbore to utter aloud the execration
of fear and hatred which in their hearts they conceived. And never,
perhaps, since Lucifer and the Archangel contended for the body of the
mighty Lawgiver, was there a more striking subject for the painter's
genius than that scene exhibited. The dark trees--the stately fane--the
moon full on the corpse of the deceased--the torches tossing wildly to
and fro in the rear--the various faces of the motley audience--the
insensible form of the Athenian, supported, in the distance, and in the
foreground, and above all, the forms of Arbaces and the Christian: the
first drawn to its full height, far taller than the herd around; his
arms folded, his brow knit, his eyes fixed, his lip slightly curled in
defiance and disdain. The last bearing, on a brow worn and furrowed,
the majesty of an equal command--the features stern, yet frank--the
aspect bold, yet open--the quiet dignity of the whole form impressed
with an ineffable earnestness, hushed, as it were, in a solemn sympathy
with the awe he himself had created. His left hand pointing to the
corpse--his right hand raised to heaven.
The centurion pressed forward again.
'In the first place, hast thou, Olinthus, or whatever be thy name, any
proof of the charge thou hast made against Arbaces, beyond thy vague
suspicions?'
Olinthus remained silent--the Egyptian laughed contemptuously.
'Dost thou claim the body of a priest of Isis as one of the Nazarene or
Christian sect?'
'I do.'
'Swear then by yon fane, yon statue of Cybele, by yon most ancient
sacellum in Pompeii, that the dead man embraced your faith!'
'Vain man! I disown your idols! I abhor your temples! How can I swear
by Cybele then?'
'Away, away with the Atheist! away! the earth will swallow us, if we
suffer these blasphemers in a sacred grove--away with him to death!'
'To the beasts!' added a female voice in the centre of the crowd; 'we
shall have one a-piece now for the lion and tiger!'
'If, O Nazarene, thou disbelievest in Cybele, which of our gods dost
thou own?' resumed the soldier, unmoved by the cries around.
'None!'
'Hark to him! hark!' cried the crowd.
'O vain and blind!' continued the Christian, raising his voice: 'can you
believe in images of wood and stone? Do you imagine that they have eyes
to see, or ears to hear, or hands to help ye? Is yon mute thing carved
by man's art a goddess!--hath it made mankind?--alas! by mankind was it
made. Lo! convince yourself of its nothingness--of your folly.'
And as he spoke he strode across to the fane, and ere any of the
bystanders were aware of his purpose, he, in his compassion or his zeal,
struck the statue of wood from its pedestal.
'See!' cried he, 'your goddess cannot avenge herself. Is this a thing
to worship?'
Further words were denied to him: so gross and daring a sacrilege--of
one, too, of the most sacred of their places of worship--filled even the
most lukewarm with rage and horror. With one accord the crowd rushed
upon him, seized, and but for the interference of the centurion, they
would have torn him to pieces.
'Peace!' said the soldier, authoritatively--'refer we this insolent
blasphemer to the proper tribunal--time has been already wasted. Bear
we both the culprits to the magistrates; place the body of the priest on
the litter--carry it to his own home.'
At this moment a priest of Isis stepped forward. 'I claim these
remains, according to the custom of the priesthood.'
'The flamen be obeyed,' said the centurion. 'How is the murderer?'
'Insensible or asleep.'
'Were his crimes less, I could pity him. On!'
Arbaces, as he turned, met the eye of that priest of Isis--it was
Calenus; and something there was in that glance, so significant and
sinister, that the Egyptian muttered to himself:
'Could he have witnessed the deed?'
A girl darted from the crowd, and gazed hard on the face of Olinthus.
'By Jupiter, a stout knave! I say, we shall have a man for the tiger
now; one for each beast!'
'Ho!' shouted the mob; 'a man for the lion, and another for the tiger!
What luck! Io Paean!'
Chapter VII
IN WHICH THE READER LEARNS THE CONDITION OF GLAUCUS. FRIENDSHIP TESTED.
ENMITY SOFTENED. LOVE THE SAME, BECAUSE THE ONE LOVING IS BLIND.
THE night was somewhat advanced, and the gay lounging places of the
Pompeians were still crowded. You might observe in the countenances of
the various idlers a more earnest expression than usual. They talked in
large knots and groups, as if they sought by numbers to divide the
half-painful, half-pleasurable anxiety which belonged to the subject
on which they conversed: it was a subject of life and death.
A young man passed briskly by the graceful portico of the Temple of
Fortune--so briskly, indeed, that he came with no slight force full
against the rotund and comely form of that respectable citizen Diomed,
who was retiring homeward to his suburban villa.
'Holloa!' groaned the merchant, recovering with some difficulty his
equilibrium; 'have you no eyes? or do you think I have no feeling? By
Jupiter! you have well nigh driven out the divine particle; such another
shock, and my soul will be in Hades!'
'Ah, Diomed! is it you? forgive my inadvertence. I was absorbed in
thinking of the reverses of life. Our poor friend, Glaucus, eh! who
could have guessed it?'
'Well, but tell me, Clodius, is he really to be tried by the senate?'
'Yes; they say the crime is of so extraordinary a nature that the senate
itself must adjudge it; and so the lictors are to induct him formally.'
'He has been accused publicly, then?'
'To be sure; where have you been not to hear that?'
'Why, I have only just returned from Neapolis, whither I went on
business the very morning after his crime--so shocking, and at my house
the same night that it happened!'
'There is no doubt of his guilt,' said Clodius, shrugging his shoulders;
'and as these crimes take precedence of all little undignified
peccadilloes, they will hasten to finish the sentence previous to the
games.'
'The games! Good gods!' replied Diomed, with a slight shudder: 'can
they adjudge him to the beasts?--so young, so rich!'
'True; but then he is a Greek. Had he been a Roman, it would have been
a thousand pities. These foreigners can be borne with in their
prosperity; but in adversity we must not forget that they are in reality
slaves. However, we of the upper classes are always tender-hearted; and
he would certainly get off tolerably well if he were left to us: for,
between ourselves, what is a paltry priest of Isis!--what Isis herself?
But the common people are superstitious; they clamor for the blood of
the sacrilegious one. It is dangerous not to give way to public
opinion.'
'And the blasphemer--the Christian, or Nazarene, or whatever else he be
called?'
'Oh, poor dog! if he will sacrifice to Cybele or Isis, he will be
pardoned--if not, the tiger has him. At least, so I suppose; but the
trial will decide. We talk while the urn's still empty. And the Greek
may yet escape the deadly Theta of his own alphabet. But enough of this
gloomy subject. How is the fair Julia?'
'Well, I fancy.'
'Commend me to her. But hark! the door yonder creaks on its hinges; it
is the house of the praetor. Who comes forth? By Pollux! it is the
Egyptian! What can he want with our official friend!'
'Some conference touching the murder, doubtless,' replied Diomed; 'but
what was supposed to be the inducement to the crime? Glaucus was to have
married the priest's sister.'
'Yes: some say Apaecides refused the alliance. It might have been a
sudden quarrel. Glaucus was evidently drunk--nay, so much so as to
have been quite insensible when taken up, and I hear is still
delirious--whether with wine, terror, remorse, the Furies, or the
Bacchanals, I cannot say.'
'Poor fellow!--he has good counsel?'
'The best--Caius Pollio, an eloquent fellow enough. Pollio has been
hiring all the poor gentlemen and well-born spendthrifts of Pompeii to
dress shabbily and sneak about, swearing their friendship to Glaucus
(who would not have spoken to them to be made emperor!--I will do him
justice, he was a gentleman in his choice of acquaintance), and trying
