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BOOK От
:
JULIA OF BAIÆ;
OR
The Days of Nero.
A
STORY OF THE MARTYRS.
BY THE REV. JOHN W. BROWN,
AUTHOR OF "THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER
VIRGINIA," "CHRISTMAS BELLS," ETC.
""
The beauteous souls! Eternity's own band!
Who in life's battle firmly stand,
Shall bear hope's tender blossoms
Hence into the Silent Land.
SALIS.
NEW YORK:
GENERAL PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL
UNION AND CHURCH BOOK SOCIETY.
762 BROADWAY.
1864.
JAN 17 '40
Bork
8126814
От
PUBLISHED
THROUGH
THE OFFERINGS
OF THE
Sunday Schools.
90577
DAYS OF NERO
DEDICATION.
то
THE REV. FREDERICK J. GOODWIN, M. A.,
RECTOR OF ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH, FLUSHING.
MY DEAR GOODWIN:
I would not take the liberty of dedicating so
slight a performance as this to you, were I not as-
sured that the friendship which has so long exist-
ed between us will lead you to look upon its de-
fects with an eye of kindness. Nor should I have
ventured upon the offering, were not the subject
I have chosen intimately associated with the re- .
membrance of those happy and profitable hours
which we have spent together, in the most inter-
esting of all historical studies.
In connecting the development of my simple
narrative with some of those tragical events which
have made the reign of Nero a proverb among
men, I have endeavored to give a faithful and con-
1*
vi
DEDICATION.
densed view of the history and spirit of the time,
avoiding those minute details, which the pen of
one of the most profound historians of antiquity
has preserved. My design would not permit me
to avoid altogether the disgusting attrocities of
the age: but upon these I have touched as light-
ly as possible, choosing rather to sacrifice some-
what of the interest which might otherwise have
been thrown around the narrative, than to sully
my page with impurity.
Although the course of the story is strictly con-
nected with historical events, I have availed my-
self of the liberty allowed to writers of fiction,
to deviate somewhat from strict chronological
order.
In the characters chosen from history, I have
endeavored to preserve and develope those traits
for which they were distinguished. In Julius Me-
tellus you will, perhaps, recognize some resem-
blance to Lateranus; although it was necessary
to my purpose to deviate widely from the actual
history of the latter. With the character of Fla-
vius, the tribune, I have also taken considerable,
although I believe not an unjustifiable liberty. In
Epicharis, whose singular enthusiasm, firmness
and contempt of suffering, in circumstances which
caused the stoutest hearts to tremble, have been
honorably mentioned by Tacitus, I have endeav-
DEDICATION.
vii
ored to represent one to whose mind the truth
had addressed itself with power, but whose heart,
through self-reliance and ambitious zeal, remained
unsubdued by the spirit of Christian love and gen-
tleness. Religious fanaticism, the element of ar-
dent and impatient spirits, which are ever prone
to imagine that their own cherished enterprises,
however rash or unholy, are sanctioned by heaven,
is not inconsistent with character and conduct,
which Tacitus acknowledges to have been extra-
ordinary, and even noble.
I may, perhaps, be accused of assigning too
prominent a position to Christianity in the times
embraced within the period of this narrative.
That this is not the case is clear, I think, from the
circumstances connected with the persecution
which arose immediately after the burning of
Rome, to which I have alluded in another place.
The records of the New Testament will serve to
convince us, that some of the first triumphs of
the Cross were gained among the Roman soldiery,
and there is everything to favor the instrumental-
ity by which the knowledge of the truth is rep-
resented to have been brought to the mind of the
daughter of the patrician, Metellus.
Although the development of the conspiracy
of Piso is intimately connected with the course
of the narrative, my design has not led me to
viii
DEDICATION.
dwell at length upon the catastrophe of that plot.
The fact that the Christians, as such, were not
implicated in it, will be a sufficient explanation of
this omission.
In the death of Burrhus, and the appearance of
Vespasian as a centurion of the Prætorian guards,
you will recognize considerable departure from
the strict historical order of events, the reason of
which will be evident.
The extract which I have ventured to introduce,
at the conclusion of the introductory chapter,
from the recent work of Mr. Milman, while it ex-
hibits, with great clearness and eloquence, what I
believe to have been the religious aspect of the
age, may seem to some readers to dwell too much
upon the agency of second causes in preparing the
Roman world for the reception of Christianity,
while it does not sufficiently recognize the imme-
diate agency of the Spirit of God, in scattering
the mists of delusion, and subduing the proud
mind of man to the "truth as it is in Jesus." To
those, however, who, like you, are familiar with
that valuable work as a whole, it will present it-
self in a different light; although we may be led
to wish that the author had been more decided on
these vital points.
But I fear that I am growing tedious; and as
the public is wont to judge of a book, not by the
DEDICATION.
ix
design which existed in the mind of the Author,
but by the manner in which that design is exe-
cuted, further explanation is unnecessary, and
might be presumptuous. With a general ac-
knowledgment, therefore, of the rashness of
which I have been guilty in committing to the
press so hasty a performance, I trust, my dear
Goodwin, that my critics, if I deserve any, will
bring to it something of the same kind and ex-
cusing spirit with which you will receive it.
While, with the many friends to whom you are
endeared, I lament the protracted indisposition
which calls you for a season from our midst, I am
happy in the hope that these idle pages may bring
to your heart, while sojourning on those distant
and beautiful shores where the scene of the narra-
tive is laid, some faint remembrance of your home.
Ever your friend,
THE AUTHOR.
1842.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION,
In 1843.
THE rapid sale of the first edition of this
work, together with the very general approba-
tion it has won from the press, secular as well
religious, furnishes the best encouragement to
the Author in the prosecution of a long-cher-
ished design that of illustrating the history
and aspect of Christianity during several of
the early persecutions, until the last and fiercest
struggles of paganism, in the reign of Diocle-
sian. The present work was merely an exper-
iment, too hastily made; but which, from the
intrinsic interest of the subject, has succeeded
far beyond his hopes. Conscious, as he is, that
it falls very far short of what it ought to have
been, the flattering reception which, notwith-
standing all its faults, it has received, is suffi-
xi
PREFACE.
cient to inspire him with the hope, that he may
yet produce something in this way less unwor-
thy of the attention of the public. He feels
that he has entered upon a rich field, almost
unoccupied; a field in which the greatest suc-
cess would be but doubtful honor, and wherein
total failure would be disgrace indeed.
Several important corrections, principally in
the introductory chapter, have been made in
this edition. References are also added, in the
same chapter, to one or two authorities, which
the Author had neglected to supply from his
common-place book. These will be sufficient
to designate to the reader the sources from
which his materials for the scenery and leading
incidents have been drawn,
CONTENTS.
BOOK I.-BAIÆ.
CHAP. I. THE SCENE AND THE TIME,
II. THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN,
III. THE MOTHER of Nero,
IV. JULIA AND SALOME,
V. NERO AT BAIÆ,
•
VI. PUTEOLI BY THE WAY-SIDE,
BOOK II.-ROME.
CHAP. I. NERO'S RETURN TO ROME,
II. THE LAKE of Agrippa,
III. THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA,
PAGE
17
31
49
61
71
93
. 109
131
150
IV. THE CATACOMBS,
159
•
•
V. THE ROAD to Antium,
174
VI. BAPTISM,
180
VII. THE STIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE, 189
VIII. THE BALCONY OF METELLUS,
202
216
IX. THE BURNING CITY,
BOOK III-MARTYRDOM.
CHAP. I. BAIÆ THE BEAUTIFUL,
II. THE GATHERING STORM,
235
250
III. THE BANQUET HALL OF PISO,
255
IV. THE BOW IN THE CLOUD,
. 262
V. THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO,
270
VI. THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF Nero,
VII. THE PRISON CHAMBER,
286
298
VIII. THE MIDNIGHT Hour,
IX. THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI,
314
322
2
แ Ecce res magna, habere imbecilitatem hominis, securita-
tem Dei."
SENECA, Epist. 53.
BOOK THE FIRST.
BAIE.
Yet here, methinks,
Truth wants no ornament; in her own shape
Filling the mind by turns with awe and love;
By turns inclining to wild ecstasy
And severest meditation.
ROGERS' ITALY.
:
JULIA OF BAIE.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
This region surely is not of the earth;
Was it not dropt from heaven? Not a grove,
Citron, or pine, or cedar, not a grot
Sea-worn and mantled with the gadding vine,
But breathes enchantment.
The Cumaan towers,
There did they riso sun-gilt; and here thy groves,
Delicious BALA.
ROGERS' ITALY.
HERE is no region more beautiful, and none
THEF
whose various attractions have been more
celebrated, than that which embraces Naples and
its environs, in the Campania of ancient Italy.
The same enchanting scenery and delicious at-
mosphere which wooed the leisure and regaled
the senses of the earlier Roman Emperors,
which inspired some of the noblest efforts of
18
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
the Latin historians and orators, and the
sweetest strains of Latin poetry, which have
been consecrated by the genius of Virgil, and
the eloquent enthusiasm of Tully, have been
equally celebrated in our day by the thousands
of tourists and devotees of art, to whom Na-
ples is still a city of the Siren,' and Campania,
a land of enchantment. As the eye of the
traveller lingers over its beauties, and the pure
and balmy atmosphere bathes his senses in de-
light, he ceases to wonder that even the tyrants
of the creation loved this alluring region,
spared it, adorned it, lived in it, and died in it.
With a climate which seems to etherealize the
body, and a landscape composed of the most
beautiful interchange of sea and land; here
are wines, fruits, and provisions in their high-
est excellence; a vigorous and luxuriant na-
ture, unparalleled in its productions and pro-
cesses; all the wonders of volcanic power
spent or in action; antiquities different from
all other antiquities on earth; a coast which
was once the fairy land of poets, and the favor-
ite retreat of great men. Nothing can surpass
the beauty of the bay, and the prospect of the
modern city, with its interesting suburbs, when
viewed from the water, where it appears broken
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
19
into great masses, and covered by long lines of
hanging gardens, palaces, and terraced roofs.
The outline upon the sea is strikingly indented;
the shipping is clustered behind the moles, and
castles and towers rise on the points of projec-
tion: The shores of the bay are covered with
interesting ruins, and broken into graceful
inlets. To the east, the dark towering summit
of Vesuvius rises, frowning over the land-
scape, while its lower regions are covered with
the richest vegetation, and dotted with white
country houses. Inland, the city is terminated
by a range of gentle hills, clothed with gardens,
vineyards, and forest trees, except where the
hill of St. Elmo, crowned by its mammoth
castle, rears its head high above the surround-
ing region, and overlooks the city, the sea, and
the rich and varied scenery, and the numerous
towns and villages with which the coast of the
bay and the country are covered, far as the eye
can reach.*
Leaving the city on the east, the traveller
approaches Mount Pausilippo, through which,
for the distance of more than a mile, was cut
the magnificent tunnel which bears the name
* See Goodrich, Universal Geog., Art. Naples.
20
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
of the Grotto of Pausilippo, one of the most.
striking memorials of antiquity which has de-
scended to modern times. Beyond this is the
Lago Agnano, with the Grotto Del Cane on
its banks, and not far off arises Solfatara, a
volcanic cone from which sulphureous vapors
constantly issue. Then succeeds Puzzeoli, the
ancient Puteoli or city of the wells, one of the
most extensive seaports and places of trade in
the ancient world, whose remarkable ruins and
indestructible beauty of situation, remain to
attest its ancient charms and splendor. There,
says a modern visitor, immense quantities of
grain raised on the fertile banks of the Nile,
and other costly productions of the east were
landed. Beyond this is Baiæ, once crowded
with the villas of the nobility and Emperors
of Rome:-
2
Delicious Baiæ, where, (what would they not)
The masters of the earth, unsatisfied,
Built in the sea; where now the boatman steers
O'er many a crypt and vault yet glimmering,
O'er many a broad and indestructible arch,
The deep foundations of their palaces;
for here, in truth, the wealthy encroached upon
the sea, in their eagerness to have a dwelling
in a place combining so much of the beauty
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
21
and highest magnificence both of nature and
of art. Next to this lies Cumæ, founded be-
fore the Trojan war, the abode of the sybil, and
one of the oldest and most populous cities of
ancient Italy. The farthest point of the land-
scape is Cape Misenus, a bold promontory,
washed by the waves, around whose base the
fleet of the Roman Emperors used to anchor.
These points command a view of the rich and
varied beauties by which the bay of Naples is
surrounded, while near them are the Elysian
fields, the fabled abodes of the blessed; and
lake Avernus with its dark and mysterious in-
terest, and the grotto of the Cumaan sybil, the
entrance to the world below-places which the
genius of Virgil has clothed with the rich and
splendid drapery of religious poetry and ro-
mance.
Everywhere
Fable and truth have shed in rivalry,
Each her peculiar influence. Fable came,
And laughed and sung, arraying truth in flowers
Like a young child a grandam. Fable came,
Earth, sea, and sky, reflecting as she flow
A thousand, thousand colors not their own:
And at her bidding, lo! a dark descent
fo Tartarus and those thrice happy fields,
Those fields with ether pure and purple light
22
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
Ever invested, scenes by him described
Who here was wont to wander, to record
What they revealed, and on the western shore
Sleeps in a silent grave, o'erlooking thee,
Beloved Parthenope.
To this hasty glance at the natural scenery
of the region in which the following tale is for
the most part laid, it seems necessary to add a
few words in relation to the general features of
the age to which we are about to transport the
reader. The dark picture which the sombre
but faithful pencil of Tacitus has drawn of the
cruel and licentious reign of Nero, is scarcely
to be equalled in all the exhibitions which an-
cient or modern history has presented to our
view. The actors in those bloody and disgrace-
ful tragedies which the Annals describe with
such dreadful minuteness, seem to us to be, for
the most part, alien from the common nature
of man. Such malignant and fiend-like wick-
edness, we hesitate to acknowledge even as the
natural produce of an unrestrained and licen-
tious heathenism. Here and there, indeed,
there are bright exceptions, in characters illus-
trious for virtue, integrity and humanity; and
we hail with enthusiasm, the truly Roman
greatness of Burrhus, the integrity of Plautius
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
23
Lateranus, and even the wavering faithfulness
of Seneca, and the singular constancy of Epi-
charis. But characters like these only serve to
heighten, by contrast, the intense moral gloom
which seems to have settled, as the curse of
heaven, upon the Roman world.
The grinding avarice, licentious extravagance,
and intolerable cruelties of Caligula, termina-
ted, happily for mankind, by the dagger of the
assassin, were succeeded, after a short interval
of hope, by the effeminate viciousness of Clau-
dius, and the dreadful crimes of Messalina.
Agrippina, whom Claudius espoused on the
shameful desertion of the latter, while she
equalled that disgrace to womanhood in crime,
surpassed her in energy and boldness. By em-
ploying every engine of vice and inhumanity,
she paved the way for the succession of Nero,
her own son by Domitius, to the imperial
throne; and the speedy death of Claudius by
poison from her own hand, placed him without
a rival upon that "bad eminence." Every
reader of history is acquainted with the arts
by which she sought to withdraw him from the
influence of his preceptor, Seneca, and to con-
tinue the same bold course of public profligacy
and crime which she had commenced under
24
JULIA OF BAIA.
Claudius. Perceiving in him, soon after his
accession, a determined aversion to all the cares
of government, her effort was to render this
disposition subservient to her own purposes,
by ruling everything according to her own will.
The faithfulness and vigilant zeal of Seneca,
whom Nero had not yet begun to hate, advised
him of the danger, and warned him of its prob-
able consequences. The prompt dismission of
all her chief confidants and favorites from
court, proved the serious attention with which
he had received the admonitions of the philos-
opher. His growing passion for Poppæa, the
aspiring beauty who could not brook her influ-
ence, added to her misfortunes. But the guilty
ambition of Agrippina prompted her to seek a
terrible revenge.
Brittanicus, the son of Claudius, to the Præto-
rian guards, and of acknowledging before them
the crimes she had committed in order to bring
Nero to the throne, was crushed in its birth by
the murder of Brittanicus, and Nero in turn
revenged himself by seeking the murder of his
mother. During the interval which elapsed
since the conception of this crime and its exe-
cution, our tale commences. While it is our
intention to avoid as much as possible, the
The design of proposing
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
25
shameful atrocities of the age, it is necessary
that the veil should be at least in part with-
drawn, and some of its "chambers of imagery"
exposed to view. But we trust that these dark
scenes will be softened, if not obscured, by the
spectacle of true patriotism yet lingering around
its ancient and glorious haunts, of the noble-
ness of suffering virtue, and of the beauty and
majesty of Christian faith.
It is scarcely possible to conceive of any-
thing more deplorably wretched than the condi-
tion of the Roman people during the adminis-
tration of Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero
and Vitellius. For fourscore years, says Gib-
bon, Rome groaned beneath an unremitting
tyranny, which exterminated the ancient fam-
ilies of the republic, and was fatal to almost
every virtue and every talent that arose during
that unhappy period. Under these monsters,
the slavery of the Romans was accompanied
by two peculiar circumstances; the one occa-
sioned by their former liberty, the other by
their extensive conquests, which rendered their
condition more completely wretched than that
of the victims of tyranny in any other age or
country. From these causes were derived the
exquisite sensibility of the sufferers, and the
26
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
impossibility of escaping from the hand of the
oppressors. Oppressed beneath the weight of
their own corruption and of military violence,
they for a long time preserved the sentiments,
or at least, the ideas, of their free born ances-
tors. Hence, while, for a long time, the shad-
ow of justice was preserved, the authority of
the senate was prostituted to the vilest pur-
poses of tyranny, and the tyrants enjoyed a
secret pleasure in rendering the people their
accomplices, as well as their victims. Beside
this, the empire of the Romans filled the
world, and when that empire fell into the
hands of a single person, the world became a
safe and dreary prison for his enemies. The
slave of imperial despotism, whether he was
condemned to drag his gilded chain in Rome
and the senate, or to wear out a life of exile on
the barren rock of Seriphus, or the frozen
banks of the Danube, expected his fate in
silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it was
impossible to fly. On every side he was en-
compassed by a vast extent of sea and land,
which he could never hope to traverse without
being discovered, seized, and restored to his
irritated master. Beyond the frontiers, his
anxious view could discover nothing, except
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
27
the ocean or inhospitable deserts, hostile tribes
of barbarians of fierce manners and unknown
language, or dependent kings, who would glad-
ly purchase the emperor's protection by the
sacrifice of an offending fugitive. "Wherever
you are," said Cicero to the exiled Marcellus,
"remember that you are equally within the
power of the conqueror.".
To the modern reader, perhaps, the most in-
teresting event connected with the reign of
Nero, is that of the first persecution of the
Christians, so basely accused of a crime of
which his own hand had been guilty, but
which, to escape the popular odium, he en-
deavored to lay to the charge of the adherents
of the new religion. Almost to this period,
Christianity had been regarded, and openly
treated by the heathen world, as an unimport-
ant sectarian dispute about the national faith
of the Jews. From certain proofs which we
gather from the record of the Acts of the
Apostles, and the history of the times, it is
evident that an acknowledged separation had
taken place between the Jewish and Christian
communities, and that the distinction began to
be perceived by those who were the inveterate
foes of both. In the time of Nero, the Chris-
·
"
28
JULIA OF BAIE.
tians must have been a considerable body, and
not altogether destitute of respectability or
influence. A very obscure sect would not have
attracted the notice of the successor of the
Cæsars, or have satisfied his blood-thirsty cru-
elty. The people, as justly remarked by a
living historian," would not have consented to
receive them as atoning victims for the dread-
ful disaster of the conflagration, nor would the
reckless tyranny of the Emperor have conde-
scended to select them as sacrificial offerings to
appease the popular fury, unless they had been
numerous far above contempt, and already
looked upon with a jealous eye. The Chris-
tians were no longer a mere sect of the parent
nation, but a. separate, a marked and peculiar
people, known by their distinctive usages, and
incorporating many of Gentile descent, into
their original Jewish community. The man-
ner in which Tacitus speaks of them, in view
more particularly of their supposed connection
with the burning of Rome, while he acknowl-
edges the malicious falsehood of the charge
brought against them, is probably familiar to
most of our readers. The absurd crimes
charged upon them by common report, and the
determined manner in which they opposed
THE SCENE AND THE TIME.
29
themselves to the idolatry of the heathen
world, were sufficient to inflame the minds of
the populace against them, and doubtless sug-
gested the accusation of Nero, which none be-
lieved, however all might have been gratified
by the persecution which ensued. Although
Tacitus himself, hurried away by the torrent
of popular prejudice, calls Christianity a dan-
gerous superstition, and indirectly offers an
apology for Nero, we find that his friend Pliny,
during the administration of the government
of Bithynia, thought and acted with modera-
tion. The Christians were under a persecution.
Pliny, in his character of proconsular governor,
was at a loss how to proceed. He wrote to the
Emperor Trajan on the subject, and after stat-
ing that the real Christians were not to be
forced by any means whatever to renounce the
articles of their belief, he proceeds to the sum
total of their guilt, which he found to be as
follows: "They met on a stated day, before it
was light, and addressed themselves in a prayer
or hymn to Christ as God, binding themselves
by a solemn qath, not for any wicked purpose,
but never to commit any fraud, theft, or adul-
tery, never to falsify their word, nor deny a
trust reposed in them, after which it was their
30
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
"
custom to separate, and then reassemble to
eat their meal together, in a manner perfectly
harmless and inoffensive." This letter of Pliny
was preserved by the Christians themselves, as
a clear and unsuspicious evidence of the purity
of their doctrines. It is, therefore, with good
reason, says Brotier, that Tertullian, in a strain
of exultation, declares, that the Christians, for
their innocence, their probity, truth, justice,
and for the living God, were burnt alive.
"The cruelty, ye persecutors, is all your own:
the glory is ours.”*
* See Murphy's Tacitus, note to sec. 43 of book xv. And,
for the remaining pages appended to this chapter in former
editions, see note 6, at the end.
CHAPTER II.
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
Here the vines
Wed each her elm, and o'er the golden grain
Hang their luxuriant clusters, chequering
The sunshine; where, when cooler shadows fall
And the mild moon her fairy net-work weaves,
The lute or mandoline, accompanied
By many a voice yet sweeter than her own,
Kindles, nor slowly.
ROGERS.
UR tale opens at Baiæ, during that season
OUR
of the year when nature is arrayed in her
most engaging charms. The delicious month
of May was drawing to its close, and the fo-
liage had already assumed the deep and living
green of early summer. Over the luxuriant
robe of the forest trees, over the waving fields
of grain, and the clustering verdure of the
vines, had passed that soft and sweet change
which betokens the advance of a season whose
every aspect presents new and more exquisite
beauty. Flowers and blossoms yet covered
1
32
JULIA OF BAIE.
the earth in profusion. The red clover upon
the meadows, and the scarlet flowers of the
wild poppy upon the terraces of Baiæ, and the
hill side beyond, were beautifully contrasted
with the deep green of the grass, and the
groves of the olive and the orange, of the arbu-
tus and myrtle. The picturesque outlines
and dark hues of the stone pine were displayed
to their best advantage on the heights, while
the oleander and the laurel clustered richly
upon the terraces below, rising out of and bor-
dering the flowery carpet which extended to
the very edge of the water.
The villa of Julius Metellus, the wealthy
and popular patrician of Rome, occupied a po-
sition equally lovely and commanding, on the
western division of the bay toward the prom-
ontory of Misenum. Beyond it, in a western
direction, extended a magnificent park, whose
lofty and spreading trees were evidently the
growth of many years. Delightful gardens lay
on either side with statues, fountains, and
mimic temples, gleaming through the pleasant
vistas, while the soft and cool murmur of the
waters seemed like the breath of some genial
spirit, whose home was among the flowers.
The portico of the villa, separated from the
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
33
main building by a court or atrium, was in
itself a Doric structure open to the sea, and
built so far upon the shore, that the brows of
the heavy arches below were continually wash-
ed by the waves. This portico not only com-
manded a view of the gulf in front and of the
neighboring islands, but that of Mount Pau-
silippo, and of the near suburbs of Naples, or
Neapolis, while dark and vast in the east arose
the summit of Vesuvius, from which a heavy
column of smoke was continually rising.
The night, exquisitely calm and serene, had
already closed upon the landscape and the sea.
The murmur of the water in the fountains and
aqueducts was blending with the soft and reg-
ular dash and swell of the waves of the gulf,
on marble arch and verdant shore, and, as if in
concert with the music, nightingales were sing-
ing in the groves. Far as the eye could reach,
the scene was reposing in the beautiful stillness
of nature. The blue transparent firmament
rose brilliantly overhead, and half-way from
the horizon the young moon, serene in crescent
light, rose to her meridian through troops of
stars. Here and there on the ample expanse
of the eastern sky, soft and silvery-tinted clouds
were floating, like islands on a sea, and the
34
JULIA OF BAIE.
[
cloudy pillar of Vesuvius rose like a giant in
the distance, spanning earth and heaven.
Two persons of different sexes stood within
the portico, enjoying the beauty and balmy
coolness of the night. One of these, the elder
and graver, was clad in the graceful undress of
a Roman citizen; the simple and snowy tunic,
however, displaying those peculiar marks which
designated the wearer to be of patrician rank.
His form was tall and commanding, and his
strongly marked but pleasing features revealed
intelligence, energy, and benevolence of dispo-
sition. Upon his brow sat the air of one accus-
tomed to command, while the full dark eye
bespoke a mind clear in conception, and reso-
lute in action. The air of sternness which his
countenance might at times be said to wear,
was relieved by the open smile which played
about his lips, as a pleasant thought in his own
mind, or a happy reply from his companion,
called it forth.
She who stood beside him, with her arm
slightly resting in his, was younger by many
years, for her form was just bursting into the
beautiful grace and fulness of womanhood.
Singularly lovely as she was, the strong sem-
blance of near relationship might be traced in
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
35
the exquisitely chiselled outline of her face.
There was the same clear expanse and noble-
ness of brow, relieved by the softer and less
prominent mould of the female countenance.
There too was the full, dark eye, but softer and
more tender in its expression, and the same
open, engaging smile which seemed to linger
about her lips, as its usual resting-place. Her
form was youthful, and so slight, that had it
not been for the hue upon her cheek, and the
vivacity in her eye, she might have been thought
an invalid. The long tunic of pure white, with
its broad and glossy fringe of purple, and its
silken girdle, betokened the Roman maiden "of
high degree," and the ear-rings of pearl, the
bracelet upon the shoulder, and the large gold-
en ring, denoted the daughter of one of wealth.
A simple head-dress of fine linen was flung
across her hair, parted in front and con-
fined behind, in the modest fashion recently
introduced from the Greeks. Slippers and san-
dals of perfumed leather, secured by clasps of
mother of pearl, completed her attire.
For a few moments the two stood in silence,
gazing out upon the gulf, as if absorbed in re-
flections which their conversation had suggest-
ed to the mind of each. Now and then a light
36
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
from the distant barges of Neapolis would en-
kindle, like a star, upon the calm waters, or
the sweep of oars from some galley near the
islands, break the stillness which reigned over
the deep.
"Seest thou, my daughter," at length
asked the patrician-for the reader will recog-
nize Julius Metellus in our description-
"Seest thou yon imperial vessel, advancing
towards us from the gardens of Piso ?"
"I see it," replied the maiden, raising her
eyes with an earnest and inquiring look to the
countenance of her father, and dropping them
to the floor as the glance met hers.
"It is advancing in this direction, I think!"
he continued, after a moment's pause.
૮.
Nay, father," replied Julia, after a second
and more attentive observation, "it rather
veers towards the Lucrine lake."
"Art sure, Julia ?" he again asked, “and
yet I see it is so. The Emperor comes not
hither, then, to-night."
"The Emperor, father ?" exclaimed the
maiden, with an involuntary shudder" the
gods avert so fatal an omen of evil !"
"Such an occurrence is usually deemed a
high honor by those who enjoy the sunshine of
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
37
the imperial countenance," replied the patri-
cian, with a meaning smile, "why not then by
us? But the topic is both dangerous and un-
fruitful, though I confess I find relief in the
persuasion that we are not to enjoy the ex-
pected honor. Come, my daughter, let the
Judæan bring the lyre, for my soul is weary of
the agitating thoughts which have occupied it
to-day, and I would fain seek relief in music."
Julia raised to her lips the small pipe of
ivory, exquisitely carved, which hung from her
girdle, and in answer to her summons, a young
female slave glided from behind one of the pil-
lars of the portico, and stood before her with
her head slightly bent, and eyes downcast,
awaiting her commands.
The dark complexion and oriental features
of the girl betrayed an origin remote from
Rome, and her soft musical accents, with into-
nations regularly declining, were pleasing to the
ear as she inquired the will of her mistress.
'My lyre, Salome," replied the maiden, with
an air of much kindness, "thou wilt find it in
the grotto of Virgil. Haste, for it is not often
that my father asks for music."
The attendant disappeared almost before the
sentence was completed, and as quickly return-
ů
38
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
ing, spread the cushions upon the narrow
couches of ivory, which ran along the side of
the portico, and laid the instrument at Julia's
feet. Then retiring a few paces, she took the
position she had before occupied.
"Of what shall I sing to you, my father ?"
inquired the maiden, as her fingers rang lightly
over the strings.
66
(6
Yonder, Julia," replied the patrician, is
a scene which has inspired many a sweet strain
and glowing verse. Hast forgotten the ode in
which even Lucan delights, though his own
numbers breathe mainly of iron war and of the
toils of state ?" As he spake, he pointed to-
wards Naples, which now, beneath the uncer-
tain light of the evening, seemed almost to
float upon the waves. The maiden understood.
the allusion, for she presently began to chant
the following ode, (if it deserve the name in our
unworthy translation) while the music of the
lyre became richer and bolder as she proceeded.
PARTHENOPE.
I.
She rose from her charmed sleep
At the golden break of morn,
And her witching lay swept o'er the deep
In tones of gentle scorn:
į
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
39
O'er the azure wave and the sunny shore
It floated sweet and wild,
And the sea-bird's cry was heard no more,
And the seaman's heart grew mild.
II.
Serene 'neath th' orient beams
The fair Campania lay,
Green as the fairy land of dreams
In fancy's magic ray;
While soft and pure the enchanting light
Bathed all the lovely scene,
Flashed from the mountain's rock-girt height,
And slept in the vales between.
III.
The Tritons in their shells
Lay listening on the shore,
And the Nymphs and Fauns in woods and dells
Entranced, their sports forbore.
By the fountain's side the fair-haired Hours,
Seemed lingering to hear,
And the Titan in his granite towers
Like a pleas'd child bent his ear.
IV.
I will build my favorite cell,
In the shade of yonder hill,
And the ocean waves in their roar and swell
Through all the grot shall thrill:
And o'er my living tomb shall rise
A city strong and fair,
With groves and founts 'neath the summer skies
And flowers in the summer air.
a
40
JULIA OF BAIE.
V.
Thus ran the siren's song,
And echo on earth and sea
The wild bewitching strain prolonged
In sweetest melody.
Then from grotto dim, and sacred wood,
The cunning spirits came,
From the rocks and trees their structures hewed,
And reared the walls of fame.
VI.
In marble courts the flowers
Bloomed in the summer sun,
The myrtle trees 'mid the orange bowers,
Upspringing one by one,
Villas and gorgeous palaces
Studded the glittering main,
And gloriously 'mid the spreading trees
Rose pillar, arch, and fane.
VII.
The siren smiled to see
The lovely vision rise,
And she called the place Parthenope,
Daughter of favoring skies,
And year by year when the seamen roam
O'er the waves at dawn of day,
They seem to hear from her ocean home
That wild bewitching lay.
The music suddenly ceased, and a heavy sigh
from the Judæan, as she rose from her slightly
reclining position, caused the fair singer to
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
41
beckon to her to come near.
Metellus had ad-
vanced to the front of the portico, and was
gazing out upon the waters, seemingly lost in
thought, for he heeded not the cessation of the
music, and his brow was bent in meditation.
"Art unhappy, Salome ?" Julia mildly in-
quired, as the dark and pensive beauty of the
slave, heightened by the glittering tears which
hung upon her cheek, appealed to her feelings.
"The heart of Salome is in the hand of
God," softly replied the Judæan; "he break-
eth not the bruised reed."
"But why did you sigh, child, and whence
these tears? Surely, the strain I sang was a
joyous one. Did it remind you of that early
home, of which you sometimes sing, I know,
though in a strange tongue ?"
"Nay, my mistress, the fleeting emotions of
the child of bondage matter little to the high-
born Roman maiden. Such music always
makes me sad, but I may not tell the cause.”
"Sing, then, one of your own mountain
songs. Perhaps the ear of my father will be
wooed by the strange melody, for I perceive
that his brow, notwithstanding voice and lyre
of mine, is even gloomier than it is wont to
be."
42
JULIA OF BAIA.
"How shall I sing the songs of Zion, in a
strange land? The heart of the mountain-
bird, my mistress, awakes not but among the
branches of his native cedar."
"Salome !" replied the maiden with much
interest, and with more enthusiasm than the
occasion seemed to prompt, "I would I knew
what could make thee happy."
The Judæan started and raised her brilliant
tearful eyes to the countenance of her mistress,
with an expression in which sorrow, affection
and hope were strangely blended. "My happi-
ness, my mistress," she answered, sinking at
Julia's feet in obedience to the encouraging
gesture of the latter, while her tones increased
in energy and sweetness-"my happiness is
bound up in thine-my happiness will be com-
plete when thine is secured.”
"Then shouldst thou be happy now," re-
plied her mistress, smiling, "for the daughter
of Metellus scarcely knows a wish unfulfilled,
and she would not rashly inquire what the
gods have in store for her."
"There is but one God and Father of all,"
rejoined the slave earnestly, "one Lord over all,
one Spirit of good, and thy trust is not repos-
ed in Him. He would gather thee under his
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
43
wings, as the fowl her tender offspring, and
thou shouldst be safe under his feathers; his
faithfulness and truth, honored mistress, would
be thy shield and buckler."
"Thou hast spoken thus before, Salome.
What then is this God whom thou servest with
such exclusive devotion? In what land hath
His shrine been reared, and what are the offer-
ings which He requires ?"
"God," replied the Judæan, "is a spirit,
and they who worship Him, must worship Him
in spirit and in truth. The heart is His tem-
ple, and the prayers of His servants will ascend
to Him from every land beneath the sun."
66
Such," said Julia, "is our Jupiter, the
father of gods and men."
66
Alas, honored mistress !" replied the slave,
as in her earnestness, she caught the purple
border of the garment which covered her mis-
tress' feet; "I know that thy better spirit
must disclaim the foolish and impure fictions
of the mythology of Rome. I know that thou
dost blush at the worship of such deities as
those that reign highest in the Pantheon ?
And who is there, even of those who are most
strenuous for the honor of the gods, that feels
not, that in rendering divine homage to fabled
44
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
characters, whose chief distinction consists in
passions beyond the vileness of man, he is de-
basing his soul? You worship Venus; but
what is Venus but the name of all that sin,
which destroys the soul, while it seduces the
senses. You worship Flora, the Graces, the
Muses; and the characters which your most
sacred poets ascribe to most of them, would
disgrace the meanest maiden upon earth."
"Thou art learned, Salome !" exclaimed
Julia, with a look of some surprise, "in the
lore of the Romans."
"I speak of that," replied the Judæan,
"which mine own ears have heard, which mine
own eyes have seen. Campania has been the
home of my youth-I have looked upon the
majesty of Rome, and in much of what I know,
Julia Metella hath been my instructor; for I
have treasured up the words which I have
heard in hours of attendance, and thine own
chants have taught me much of the faith of
the land in which the lot of my bondage hath
been cast."
“Wouldst thou then be free, child ?" asked
Julia, playfully touching with her fan the slight
bracelet of iron, which seemed to be the badge
of the condition of her attendant.
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
45
"The bonds of earthly servitude are light,
my mistress," replied the other, glancing at the
emblem, "when we are made free from the
slavery of sin. The God of whom I speak to
thee, can break the bonds of our evil pas-
sions."
"Art thou then a votary of those dark and
mystic superstitions, in which so many seek
resort who have deserted the gods ?"
"Nay, daughter of Metellus," replied Sa-
lome, "that were a worse bondage still. I re-
joice, I trust, in the blessed liberty wherewith
Christ has made His people free."
"Christ! Salome," replied the maiden, not
without an expression of sorrow, mingled with
pity, in her countenance. "Thou art, then, a
Nazarene? Well mayest thou weep and trem-
ble, child, for I have heard somewhat of that
impious and cruel superstition."
"O, my mistress,” replied the slave, looking
up through tears, "canst thou, too, lend an
ear to those absurd reports of the vulgar and
ignorant ? If I weep, believe me, it is not for
myself, but for those I love for thee, my mis-
tress. Daughter of Metellus, the young and
beautiful and high-born must die as well as
the lowly and the slave, and there is a life be-
2
46
JULIA OF BAIE.
yond the grave, which we must all experience
in bliss or wo. When death comes, Christ can
take away his sting; when the earth shall be
burnt with fire, and the heavens shall roll
away, Christ alone can save us then !"
"Again, again that dream of immortality.
Salome, thy words move me strangely some-
times, and I must hear thee speak again of this
of th
new, but beautiful faith, beautiful in some of
its teachings, but-"
A rustling, as of garments, aroused the at-
tention of the party. On looking up, Julia
observed that another person had entered upon
the portico, and was already exchanging greet-
ings with her father. He was a young man,
whose dress was sufficient to distinguish him
as a tribune of the Prætorian guards; while
his manner exhibited the ease and polish of
the patrician, blended with the frankness of
the soldier.
"Welcome, Flavius!" exclaimed Metellus,
saluting him with great cordiality, "though
the banquet of Piso must miss one of its most
honored guests, our entertainment will be all
the better."
There was a cloud upon the brow of the tri-
bune, and a meaning in his eye as he replied:
THE VILLA OF A PATRICIAN.
47
"The banquet of the Emperor, noble Me-
tellus, is spiced more highly than with wit of
mine. Agrippina hath visited Baia-"
"And gone ?" asked the patrician, in a voice
which seemed to come from the inmost recesses
of his bosom.
"Gone within the hour!" he replied, "but,"
adding in a whisper audible to none but him to
whom it was addressed, "there is more beyond"
--and he pointed across the gulf, where the
barge, which the patrician and his daughter
had been observing, was slowly holding on its
way. Then turning to the females, he said
gaily,
"Julia Metella, it is long since we have met.
I will not say that thy lyre hath charmed my
footsteps hither; but the music at least quick-
ened my pace."
"Nay, noble tribune," replied the maiden,
"my numbers woo not the grim god of war."
66 "The more enchanting," he replied, "because
they breathe of the Siren, and Baiæ is a more
fitting haunt than the city of Parthenope-"
The remark of the tribune was interrupted
by a cry from the distant waters so wild and
shrill, that it reached the ears of all upon the
portico with terrible distinctness. Flavius
48
JULIA OF BAIE.
started and moved quickly to the side of the
patrician, while the maiden sprang from her
seat in affright, and the Judæan girl raised her
eyes to heaven in silence.
CHAPTER III.
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
What is't ye do?
A deed without a name.
MACBETH.
HE waters of the gulf were as calm as be-
THE
fore, and the soft hues and brilliant lights
of the Italian sky were mirrored upon the al-
most motionless expanse, as clearly and stead-
ily as on a sea of glass. The faint breeze,
which stirred among the olives and vines of the
garden, and dallied with the flowers, awoke no
billows upon the water, and the low heavy
ground-swell beneath, seemed to become more
feeble every moment.
The barge had attained a position nearly
opposite the villa, when the cry we have men-
tioned fixed every eye upon its movements.
Although convinced by the nature of the inter-´
ruption that some calamity had befallen her,
the observers were at first wholly at a loss to
ascertain the nature of the disaster. She
seemed completely arrested in her progress, and,
5
50
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
to all appearance, disabled from further ad-
vance; once or twice, the crash as of falling
timber was heard, and then faint blows of the
hammer or axe succeeded, and then the dash
of oars, or of something thrown overboard,
smote the wave.
"This is some fearful mystery, Flavius !"
remarked the patrician, as he bent anxiously
over the slight balustrade of iron which ran
along the front of the portico-"who ever
heard of shipwreck on a sea like that which
lies before us ?”
"This is worse than shipwreck," replied the
tribune- "that bark bears the mother of Nero
to Bauli, but it is destined never to reach its
haven."
"Sayest thou ?" said Metellus quickly, "but
the unhappy wretches may still be saved, and
the Emperor-"
"Wills its destruction," interrupted the tri-
bune, "and the death of Agrippina. It might
be dangerous to stand in the way of his re-
venge."
66
Nay, Flavius, that came not from thy heart.
Humanity is always worthy of a soldier.”
"And resistance to tyranny worthy of a pa-
trician,” said the tribune emphatically.
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
51
"It is well," replied the patrician, with a
meaning look; then raising his voice as he ap-
proached the door which communicated with
the atrium, "Ho! within there, my Aquarius!
-haste Bibo," he added, as the water-manager
appeared, "man the barges and haste to the
rescue of the passengers on yon perishing ves-
sel."
"Wilt thou go, Flavius ?" asked Julia, hast-
ily, as she observed the tribune busied in tight-
ening his girdle.
"I go,” he replied, "for these slaves will not
know whom or what they seek—”
"Nay, Flavius, but this is unnecessary—yet
go," she added with emotion, "for even the
mother of Nero should not die the death of a
dog."
66
Encourage him, honored mistress," said a
low voice at her ear, "for I feel that there shall
no harm happen unto him."
Julia turned and beheld the countenance of
Salome, glowing with a beautiful enthusiasm.
The dark lashes which usually concealed the
lustrous orbs underneath, were now fully up-
raised, and the Roman maiden half recoiled at
the singular beauty and power of the glance.
It was but a moment, however; then the
52
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
slave sank submissively to her feet, and bowed
her head toward the ground.
"Go then, Flavius," replied Julia, "since
my better impulse is thus seconded by one who,
at times, might do honor to Cuma."
In a few moments the light barges of the
villa were swiftly skimming the waters in the
direction of the distressed vessel, to which we
must now transport the reader.
The barge was one which, by the costliness
of its materials, and the splendor of its deco-
rations, was sufficiently marked as destined for
some special service of the imperial household.
Every thing about the prow was seemingly un-
touched; but the stern, as the boats of the tri-
bune approached, had already sunk to some
depth in the water. The heavy deck over the
steerage cabin had fallen, and the rent timber
and costly furniture lay crushed in one indis-
criminate mass. The passengers were hurrying
to and fro, some endeavoring to lift the timbers,
some vainly tugging at the oars, and all, by
their confusion and want of concert, embar-
rassing each other. Faint cries and groans
from beneath the mass of fragments continual-
ly rose upon the ears of listeners, and as Flavius
drew near, he heard the exclamations of the
<
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
53
despairing Agrippina, in tones which chilled
his heart with horror:
"Save me, Romans-it is the mother of
Nero-the wife of Claudius, who asks for life."
"The mother of Nero asks in vain," said a
tall, fierce-looking mariner, springing with tre-
mendous force, on the side of the galley, oppo-
site to that on which the boats were approach-
ing. "Ho! men, it is freedom for which we
strive. To a strong swimmer 'tis but a stone's
cast to Baiæ. This way, the galley will sink
almost by her own weight."
A shout from a portion of the crew respond-
ed to this inhuman appeal. The men rushed
to the side of the vessel, and vigorously sec-
onded the efforts of the individual above-men-
tioned, to heave her on one side.
66
'Slaves," exclaimed the tribune-"and you,
Volusius Proculus, beware what you do. All
ye,” he cried, rising to his utmost height, while
the waterman prepared to cast the grappling
irons, "all ye who respect the majesty of Rom-
an justice, resist this murder."
"Subrius Flavius !" exclaimed one from the
vessel.
"It is the tribune," cried another.
"These are the barges of Julius Metellus,'
""
5*
54
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
cried a louder voice, which Flavius instantly
recognised as that of Agerinus, the freedman
of Agrippina.
"Is't thou ?" shouted the tribune, "spring
forward, Agerinus, and push the slaves over-
board, and count upon our rescue! Steadily,
steadily;" the irons had taken hold of the
guards; "now leap on board all, raise the deck
and let the slaves perish in the ruin they have
made."
The force which manned the boats of Metel-
lus was fully equal to that which remained on
board the galley. Thus encouraged by the tri-
bune, they boarded the vessel, almost as one
man, and the heavy deck began to give way
before their united strength. Another cry,
more shrill and piercing from the cabin below,
was heard in answer to the effort: again they
exerted their strength and with more success
than before.
"Stand firm, servants of Nero," exclaimed
Proculus; "tribune, desist, or this javelin shall
find its way to the heart of the victim you seek."
66 Forward!" shouted the tribune.
The heavy arm of the ruffian descended, as
it seemed, with deadly aim. The javelin was
forced through the frail gilt wood-work of the
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
55
cabin, and the agonized cry, as of a person se-
verely wounded, followed the crash.
The next moment, the air was darkened with
the active form of Bibo, who sprang from his
place, and grappled with the strong frame of
Proculus. The struggle was fierce, but short.
Before the comrades of the latter could render
assistance, he lost his footing, and they fell to-
gether into the sea.
This event terminated the resistance of the
mariners to the efforts of the party of the tri-
bune. Discouraged by the loss of their leader,
the greater part slunk sullenly away to the
benches, while a few leaped overboard and made
for the shore.
Thus left in control of the vessel, the hu-
mane efforts of the watermen were soon suc-
cessful. Beneath one of the timbers, the mu-
tilated form of a female, on whom the dagger
had plainly begun the work of death, became
exposed to view, and the slaves started back in
horror.
"The deed is done," exclaimed one, “behold
the remains of Agrippina. I myself heard
when she called upon Proculus to spare her,
and I saw the wood descend from his hand."
"This is not my mistress," shouted Agerinus,
56
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
"but the miserable Aceronnia, who to save her-
self, assumed the name of Agrippina, and has
thus perished by her presumption.”
As if in confirmation of his words, another
cry was heard from below, in the same tones as
those which had before greeted their ears. The
corpse was laid aside, and the men began to re-
move the side of the cabin. A vigorous blow
from the axe of Agerinus soon effected an open-
ing, when the whole fabric suddenly fell out-
ward, and a female form sprang into the air,
alighted for a moment, with wild gestures, upon
the guards, and the next fell backward into
the sea.
"These are friends, my mistress," exclaimed
Agerinus, but his warning came too late.
Agrippina, for it was she, had recovered her
position, and was making for the shore, not-
withstanding the incumbrance of her garments,
with singular strength and speed. Under the
excitement of the moment, a dozen slaves leap-
ed into the sea, following so closely upon each
other, as to threaten the safety of her whom.
they sought to rescue. Although the mother
of Nero ordinarily possessed remarkable cool-
ness and courage in the hour of danger, it was
apparent that the protracted agony of her re-
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
57
cent situation had so bewildered her faculties
and blunted her perception, that she distin-
guished nothing by eye or ear. It was neces-
sary, therefore, that promptness and energy
should be exercised in rescuing her from her
perilous situation; and no less so, that the ef-
forts of those engaged should be directed with
prudence. The tribune perceived the exigency
of the moment, and took his measures ac-
cordingly.
"To the boats," he exclaimed, "some of you
to the boats!" for these had been entirely de-
serted by the slaves.
Agerinus was cleaving the wave with a pow-
erful arm when the order reached his ear, and
had already neared the spot where the form of
his mistress, evidently outworn by the exertion,
and sinking slowly, was visible. Eagerly re-
peating the suggestion to those behind, he
pressed forward, and was almost within reach,
when she sank beneath the surface.
Quick as light, the athletic slave plunged
after the receding form, while a few of his com-
panions gained the boats and pressed to the
spot.
The period of suspense, however, was brief,
and happily terminated. First came the bub-
58
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
ble and rush of the water to the surface, then
a white robe was visible beneath, and then arose
the form of Agerinus, his hand firmly grasping
the palla or cloak of Agrippina, which was
happily so well secured as to bear the unusual
pressure.
"Thank the gods," exclaimed Flavius who
had been among the first to leave the galley for
the scene of action, "she is safe. Gently,
friends," and the almost lifeless body was lifted
into the boat, followed by the faithful slave, to
whom the exertion had cost little beyond the
loss of breath.
Fortunately, the experience and resources of
one of the principal domestics suggested the
proper treatment of the case, and supplied the
applications which were necessary. It was not,
however, until they were within a few rods of
the shore, that the patient exhibited any signs
of returning consciousness. The first glance
into the nature of her own situation, however,
served to animate and assure her. After a wild
and hurried look on those around, her eye rest-
ed upon Agerinus, and his eager gestures told
her of her safety. The tribune stood apart
viewing the operations with almost painful in-
terest, pity for the object and disgust at her
THE MOTHER OF NERO.
59
character struggling together for supremacy, in
his bosom. At length a troubled expression
upon the countenance of the unhappy woman,
caused him to advance.
"The danger is past," he said, slightly bow-
ing, "and the Empress is among friends who
will care for her safety, or convey her to her
own home. Behold the villa of Metellus !"
66
Thanks, noble tribune," replied Agrippina,
in a feeble voice, with a smile which for once
was not hollow or feigned. "After so disas-
trous a shipwreck, it is a pleasure indeed to feel
myself again under the favorable auspices of
the Emperor. I would not, however, task my
friends too deeply. Bauli is near at hand, and
my own slaves await me on the shore of the
Lucrine lake.”
"If such is your will, madam," said the
tribune, who saw the manifest advantage of
avoiding exposure by every means which hu-
manity would sanction; "I will leave the barge
in charge of these men, who are faithful. Fare-
well, and may the end of your voyage be more
happy than its commencement.”
66
'Farewell, noble Flavius," she answered,
"and remember that Agrippina is not always
ungrateful. You have risked that which is
60
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
dearer than life in my behalf, and such sacri-
fices the vilest cannot forget.
come a time"-she hesitated-
Should there
"Burden not yourself with promises, mad-
am," replied the tribune, almost sternly, for
dark remembrances were sweeping over his bo-
som. "I have but done my duty as a servant
of the empire. Farewell."
He sprang upon the steps of the portico, and
the next moment the barge was gliding swiftly
over the waters in the direction of the Lucrine
lake.
Julia had retired from the scene, and the
words of the patrician and the tribune when
they met, were few but full of meaning. With
the expression of the generous indignation
which they made no effort to suppress, were
mingled intimations which might have caused
the inhuman tyrant to tremble had he heard
them. With the deep, silent night around
them, they thought of the insulted majesty of
Rome, and breathed to each other the stern
regrets of Roman patriotism. Such feelings
and words, in men of that mould, do not often
pass away into the void without results. But
we shall see.
CHAPTER IV.
JULIA AND SALOME.
But I have read thee in our Sacred Book,
Fis gentle words of love.
--Thou hast thou hast!
They're stirring in my heart.
JOANNA BAILIE.
ORE than three hours had passed since
MORE
the occurrences recorded in the last chap-
ter, and light was still visible in the villa. In
a small chamber, whose tesselated pavement,
ceiling of fretted ivory, rich hangings of silk,
and ivory couches displayed the luxury which
had long ago been engrafted upon the simpler
manners of the ancient Romans, sat Julia
Motella and the young Judæan, engaged in
earnest conversation. A lamp of silver hung
from the ceiling, raying out through its cur-
tain of gauze, a mystic and uncertain light.
In the centre of the cabinet, (for the size of
the apartment was such as scarcely to merit.
6
62
JULIA OF BAIE.
another name,) was placed a small reading-
stand, on which were displayed two manu-
scripts; and the highly ornamented recess or
receptacle for books upon the wall, seemed to
indicate that the place was usually devoted to
the pursuits of literature.
Salome sat at the feet of her mistress, hold-
ing in her hand a manuscript partly unrolled,
on which, during the pause in the conversation,
her eyes were fixed.
The shadow of earnest thought lay upon the
soft eye and beautiful brow of the Roman
maiden. The silence for a few moments con-
tinued unbroken, when turning to Salome, she
said-
"Read on, Salome; these words, methinks,
have a strange power over my mind, and the
narrative is beautiful, exceedingly beautiful."
The manuscript was that of the Gospel of
St. Luke, and the passage at which the young
reader resumed her task, was that which details
the events subsequent to the crucifixion, to-
gether with the resurrection and ascension of
Christ.
The tones of the reader were faithful in ex-
pressing the various changes of sentiment and
feeling, in the simple but touching narrative of
JULIA AND SALOME.
63
the Evangelist. As she proceeded, the eloquent
tears rolled down her cheek, unheeded by her
mistress, who almost wept for sympathy.
"This, then, is the Christian belief-and
such was the God of the Nazarenes-" said
Julia, with a sigh of gratified curiosity--" and
thou believest this, and art happy in thy
bonds ?"
"Happy, honored mistress," responded the
slave, fervently, "in the love of that blessed
Redeemer who died for me and rose again. The
faith of Salome is weak, and her words are fee-
ble, but there is one at Puteoli, sojourning in
the abodes of my people, who hath beheld the
glory of the Lord, and on whose lips the Gospel
is clothed with irresistible power."
"Of whom speakest thou ?"
"Of a Roman citizen, whom divine grace
hath raised up to be the herald of the good
tidings to the Gentiles. Couldst thou hear
him, as I have heard him, thou wouldst learn
all the glory and beauty of our faith.”
-
"I will go, Salome--" exclaimed the maiden
with a sudden impulse, "the barges will convey
us thither-and the house of Asher, a freed-
man of Metellus, hath often received me as a
guest. I will go."
64
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
There was a mixed expression of gratitude
and fear in the look with which Salome heard
this proposal. "Thou wouldst incur, my mis-
tress, the hatred of the populace, perhaps the
displeasure of thy father."
"The people, girl, are nothing to Julia Me-
tella, and my father would but call it a girlish
folly. I have a strange desire to learn more of
this superstition which hath interested thee so
strongly—and if—and if—” she added, “there
is an existence beyond the grave, it must be by
such purity of heart and life as that book incul-
cates, that it is to be won. Young and simple
as I am, I cannot think that the Jupiter and
Venus of our faith can conduct us to immor-
tality. They cannot be immortal that partake
so largely of human vileness, and had so ample
a share in man's basest affections. Christ, in-
deed, lived and died like a God, if that volume
be true-
"But," she continued, after a pause, in which
she seemed lost in thought, while Salome sat
with her hands clasped, and her eyes meekly
bent upon the earth-"we cannot go till the
morrow-the image of that terrible woman
whom Flavius rescued from the wave, haunts
me even here.”
1
JULIA AND SALOME.
65
"Our scriptures teach us," observed the
slave, "that the wicked are like the troubled
sea, which cannot rest, whose waves cast up
mire and dirt."
"It must be so, girl. There was a hollow
agony in the faded countenance, which not even
the moment of unlooked for deliverance could
do away. The vengeance of the tyrant has
failed of its purpose thus far, but when was the
doomed one known finally to escape the grasp
of Nero? The tribune acted nobly," she con-
tinued, as a slight flush mounted to her cheek—
"didst thou mark, Salome, the struggle of
humanity with disgust, in his speaking features,
and the melancholy disdain of his eye, as he
avoided the touch of her extended hand ?"
The slave raised her eyes to the countenance
of her mistress in reply, while a sigh, scarcely
audible, escaped her.
"His sudden summons to the presence of
Nero," continued Julia, "may argue danger to
himself by the refusal of a dreadful service-
my father hinted as much."
"The midnight revels of Piso and his
friends," remarked the other, "aro not wont to
be esteemed as fraught with danger. Bacchus
x
66
JULIA OF BAIE.
is fabled as a jolly god, who admits no fear or
peril to mar the mirth of his votaries."
"The tribune is no reveller, girl!" replied
her mistress, quickly, "and Nero knows how to
choose the hearty companions of his debauch-
eries. I fear the banquet was but a pretext,
for the result of the struggle upon the water
must have been known quickly at the villa of
Piso."
66
Why should my mistress fear ?" inquired
the girl, with great simplicity of manner.
"I know not rightly, Salome, but he who
thwarts, however nobly it may be done, the
will of the tyrant, treads on slippery ground."
"And dost thou fear for Flavius, more than
for thy father, my mistress ?"
This question, simple as it was, called up the
eloquent blood to the cheek of the maiden, and
it was not without confusion that she replied-
"Nay, Salome, the arm of tyranny cannot
reach my father easily, while the tribune of the
Prætorian guard moves in an atmosphere of
distrust, and is continually exposed to the foul
breath of false accusation.
fearful for those we esteem.
We are always
Hast thou never
known one, over whose fortunes thy heart is
JULIA AND SALOME.
67
wont to linger with all the sacred interest of
friendship ?"
"The heart of Salome," replied the slave, “is
here where her duty calls it. Heaven I trust
will not reject the unworthy offering made to it,
and on earth she has none to love but those
whose lot is happier than her own."
"I know," said the maiden, "thy devotion
to thy benefactors, and thy faithfulness to my-
self; and my father is not unmindful of thy
worth. But the poets tell us that there are
dearer ties than those of blood or grateful ser-
vice."
•
"The ties of Christian love, my mistress, are
stronger; and, as thou sayest, dearer, than
those which link our affections in mere earthly
relationships. Such have power to bless us
beyond the reach of fate or change."
"Thou remindest me of the beautiful lan-
guage of Cicero," replied Julia-"whence hadst
thou the sentiment ?"
"From the records of truth-from the faith
to which I cling. When I last visited my
father, he told me of one whom he saw in an
assembly of Christians at Jerusalem, not many
days after that memorable scene of the day of
?
68
JULIA OF BAIE,
Pentecost, of which the report has reached your
ears. When the rites of prayer were finished,
and while the disciples were lingering to receive
the parting blessing of those who had known
the Redeemer in the days of his flesh, one,
whose countenance shone like that of an angel,
with holy love, stood forth, and spake of the
words of Jesus which his own ears had heard,
while leaning on His bosom: 'Hereby shall all
men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one.
another. Herein is my Father glorified that ye
bear much fruit, so shall ye be my disciples.
If ye keep my commandments ye shall abide in
my love, even as I have kept my Father's com-
mandments, and abide in his love. These
things I speak unto you that my joy may re-
main in you, and that your joy may be full.'
These, my mistress, were the words of Him who
laid down his life for sinners, and who rose
again that we might live, by the power of his
own endless life."
"But have I not heard, Salome, that the
blood of Jesus of Nazareth, as a profaner of
the law of thy people, was shed by thy fathers ?"
The slave groaned audibly, and then replied,
"Thou hast heard truly, my mistress. But
JULIA AND SALOME.
69
there are some even among our degraded and
guilty people, whose eyes by grace have been
opened, to see in Jesus the true Messiah.
Great indeed hath been the guilt of my people
according to the flesh, and heavy must be their
punishment. I shudder to think of the judg-
ments which even now may be hovering over
the holy city and the temple."
"And from whorn, child, didst thou receive
the first instructions in the religion of Christ ?”
"From one, my mistress, who now sleeps in
Jesus; from one who saw and heard the glori-
ous miracles of Pentecost-from my father."
"And what did he tell thee of that scene,
Salome ?"
"Even what is here recorded," replied the
young Christian, "in the record of the beloved
Physician, the companion of Paul."
She turned to the manuscript beside her, and
read the simple but forcible description of the
ovent to which she referred, as contained in that
sacred record. It was evident that the interest
of her fair auditor increased as she went on, for
the flush upon her cheek grew softer yet deep-
er, and the tender light of her eyes melted
through gathering tears. As Salome con-
70
JULIA OF BAIE.
cluded, Julia laid her hand upon the manu-
script, and said with emotion-
"The God of the Christians is to be wor-
shiped upon the bended knee, with the offerings
of the heart. I will kneel with thee, Salome,
while thou utterest the words of supplication.
Perchance I shall find a blessing."
In the silence of that secluded chamber, in
the sweet, yet fervent tones of the Judæan,
was heard the voice of prayer.
"Lamb of God, that takest away the sins.
of the world, let the prayer of the weak and
the contrite come before thee, and receive an
answer at the throne of grace! Behold, O
Lord! one for whom thou didst die, is seeking,
albeit blindly and in doubtfulness, the path of
life. Send down thy spirit, Lord, to touch her
heart as with living fire-purge her clouded
sight, and open her understanding that she may
understand thy holy word, and be taught of
thee. Spirit of Grace! take up thine abode
in her heart, and lead her into all the truth."
*
*
CHAPTER V.
NERO AT BAIÆ.
Prythee peace,
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
MACBETH
Chaldeis sed major erit fiducia quicquid
Dixeat Astrologus credent de fonte relatum
Hammonis; quoniam Delphis oracula cessant
Et genus humanum damnat caligo futuri.
JUV. VI. 533.
HE revel at the villa of Piso had already
THE
extended far into the night, but still the
sounds of hilarity grew louder and more fre-
quent. In the splendid and spacious triclini-
um or banqueting hall, the board was spread
with the luxurious dessert of fruits and confec-
tions the games had commenced, and the in-
toxicating wine circulated treely.
Save his host, there were few of patrician
rank, or even honorable station, in attendance
on the Emperor, on the present occasion. In
the vestibule without, lingered five or six sol-
=
72
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
diers of the Prætorian guard, whose full armour
was but slightly concealed beneath the gay em-
broidered palla or cloak, which constituted one
of the chief emblems of their station. Nu-
merous slaves in tunics of grey, edged with
purple, were continually passing and repassing
the vestibule, in the discharge of the various
duties of office, while the tones of the flute
and the lyre, from musicians concealed from
view, mingled with the stir of footsteps with-
out, and the sound of voices within.
Occupying a prominent position on the cen-
tre of the principal couch at the head of the
board, Nero reclined between Piso on the one
hand, and Lucan on the other. Among the
guests at his right hand, might be distinguish-
ed Seneca, the philosopher, and the preceptor
of Nero; his pale, thoughtful countenance and
sober habit according but poorly with the gen-
eral mirth and splendor of the scene. Oppo-
site to him, reclining between two individuals
of less note or rank, was Burrhus, the bold and
upright prefect of the Prætorian guards, whose
character did honor to the instructions of the
philosopher, and to whom he was bound also
by the ties of the closest relationship.
The splendor of the hall, and the expensive
NERO AT BAIÆ.
73
appointments of the entertainment denoted an
age of luxury and effeminacy. From the beau-
tifully paved floor of mosaic, a double row of
columns of the purest marble, crowned by Cor-
inthian capitals, rose to the lofty ceiling, which
was gorgeously ornamented with paintings and
gilt work. The tables were of carved ivory,
each covered with cloth of purple, and loaded
with a heavy service of gold. The couches
were of polished wood, adorned with plates of
silver, and hung with drapery of embroidered
cloth, of imperial purple.
The countenance of the Emperor, as seen by
the soft lamplight, was anything but indicative
of his character. The natural mildness of the
expression had, indeed, partly disappeared be-
neath the traces of debauchery and uncontrol-
led passion; but a stranger would have been
slow to recognize the tyrant at whose name de-
generate Rome had learned to tremble, in the
calm and almost lifeless eye, effeminate aspect,
and frail form before him. A slight flush upon
the cheek was strikingly contrasted with the
paleness of his countenance, and the thin and
almost bloodless lips, about which hovered an
expression which might easily change into
either a smile or a sneer. A wreath of the wild
1
3
74
JULIA OF BAIE.
olive rested lightly upon his forehead, and a
slave waited behind him with a lyre, indicating
the kind of distinction which, amidst his vary-
ing moods, he, at the time, most aspired after.
"Pledge us freely, noble host," he cried, rais-
ing a goblet of spiced wine to his lips, "remem-
ber that when this night is over, we bid a long
farewell to Baiæ."
66
"I remember it, august Cæsar," replied Piso,
“and in this untasted wine I implore the gods
for a quick despatch of the public business,
and a speedy return."
He poured the libation upon the board, while
his guests bowed their heads in acknowledg-
ment of the piety of the offering.
"The father of his country," said Seneca,
with his calm, melancholy smile, which seemed
like moonlight faintly illuminating untroubled
waters" the father of his country will, I
trust, deign to look in at our poor abode at
Pausilippo. We can offer but hermit's
fare-"
“Thou givest us that which feeds the soul,
my preceptor," interrupted the Emperor, slight-
ly changing his manner, "though the words of
wisdom are sometimes lost upon an unworthy
pupil."
NERO AT BAIÆ.
75
The moralist bowed in acknowledgment of
the compliment, and added,
"The devotees of wisdom should not want
patience in their toils, when the reward is so
noble, Cæsar! But if I may be allowed to ex-
ercise the liberty which your clemency has given
me, I would venture to regret that public affairs.
should call you from the generous feast, in the
most genial moment-"
66
Nay, Seneca," replied Nero, somewhat pet-
tishly, as he replaced the goblet, "wisdom
may put on her grave aspect too soon. Can
we not have one hour with the jolly god? what
sayest thou, Burrhus, to this unseasonable de-
mand upon our patience ?"
"I would say, my lord," replied the person
appealed to, with an abrupt decision in his
manner, which caused the cheek of Nero to
grow pale, "that the exigency of the time de-
mands it."
"Per hercle! sirs," exclaimed the latter in
a sinking voice, "ye would render the imperial
purple a robe of thorns.'
""
"The more precious the drops, then," replied
Burrhus, bluntly, "with which the soil of our
country is watered, even though they be drawn
from the heart."
76
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
""
"By Apollo, man!" replied Nero, laughing,
"our heart is gladdened amidst all its cares,
when one so rough as thou dalliest with the
muses. We must look to our laurels, Lucan,'
he added, turning to the poet, who sat sipping
his goblet with an abstracted air; "the honest
Burrhus hath been visited with the divine
afflatus, and we have a new competitor in our
pleasant toils."
"With such competitors," replied Burrhus,
coldly, "I have no desire to contend for the
laurel, however strong the enthusiasm which
example may at times excite.”
Lucan bit his lip in vexation as he replied to
the Emperor, whose inordinate vanity digested
the doubtful compliment without difficulty,
66
""
"The leader of the guards, august Cæsar,
woos a bolder mistress than the retiring muse.
Sayest thou?" exclaimed Nero, abruptly,
with a searching look at the prefect," then the
boldest mistress will find him no cold suitor, I
warrant thee. But come, sirs! a goblet more
to our favorable auspices, and then the libation,
for we would not neglect the interests of
Rome."
The obedient slaves filled the cups, the liba-
tion was performed, and Nero arose from his
NERO AT BAIÆ.
77
couch, and followed by Seneca and Burrhus,
withdrew to a private apartment.
The curtain had no sooner dropt behind their
entering footsteps, when the effeminate and
careless ease of the Emperor suddenly forsook
him. He tottered to a couch, and covering his
brow with his hand, seemed to await the reve-
lation of some alarming disaster from the lips
of his counsellors.
The moralist was the first to break the silence,
and he spake in a deep and almost stern tone,
which occasionally betrayed the excitement of
his own mind, in spite of the general calmness
of his manner.
"Need I tell the Emperor," he said, "that
the crisis of his fate has arrived? The foolish
contrivance of the galley has ended as I fore-
told: Agrippina lives, and lives safely, at
Bauli."
Nero groaned aloud and sank backwards
upon the couch, but made no answer.
66
Nay, my lord," said Burrhus, advancing
and taking his hand, "this is a weakness un-
worthy of your cause. Rouse yourself, and let
us meet the crisis with firmness."
"Might I rely upon Burrhus," said the Em-
peror feebly, "I should not know a fear. But
78
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
how received you the confirmation of this once
doubtful rumor?”
"The tribune, Flavius, sent it to me in a
scroll concealed among the leaves of the grape.'
""
"To thee,” replied Nero, raising his eyes for
the first time, to the countenance of the pre-
fect, "and how became Subrius Flavius in-
volved in the matter ?"
"The mother of Nero found refuge in his
barge while struggling with the wave.”
"By Jupiter !" exclaimed the Emperor, with
sudden and ungovernable rage, "he dies for
the presumption-he shall die were he a thou-
sand times tribune."
The soldier retreated a step or two before
the tempest of passion, but not in fear. His
brow became clouded, and he cast his eye to
the ground, while his uncle interposed in the
discussion.
"Let us do nothing rashly, Cæsar," he said,
"for the ground on which you stand is slippery
at best. The slaves of Julius Metellus aided
in the rescue.'
""
"Nay, then, all is lost!
have cursed me,” replied the
Surely the fates
unhappy prince;
"ere morning all Campania may be roused by
the report and I have no faith in the army.
NERO AT BAIÆ.
79
She will reveal all to the senate, she will carry
her complaints to the ears of the citizens of
Rome. What then, sirs, is to be done? advise
me, or leave me to my fate."
Seneca replied not, but fixed his eyes upon
Burrhus, for he saw the terrible alternative that
Agrippina must fall or Nero perish, yet his soul
sickened at the idea of the crime which seemed
necessary to consummate the safety of the
Emperor.
"Darest thou, Burrhus," he at length asked,
"commission thy soldiers to complete this fear-
ful business ?"
"I would not if I dared," replied the honest
soldier, regardless of the appealing look of the
Emperor; "such a crime shall never stain the
honor of the Prætorian guards, while Burrhus
is their leader."
"Away, then, cowardly sycophants!" cried
Nero, "I can but die, but let me die among
friends."
"You do us foul wrong, my prince," replied
Burrhus, calmly; "but we know how to make
allowances for unkind suspicion; if death can
prove friendship, name the hazard, and Burr-
hus will submit to it; but he cannot stoop to
so base a crime."
చ
80
JULIA OF BAIE.
"Is not Agrippina the shame of all virtu-
ous citizens-is she not a curse to Rome ?"
eagerly demanded the distracted Cæsar; for
under the influence of his fears his mood
changed with every moment; "he who com-
passes her fall, brings a blessing upon the em-
pire."
"What the mother of Nero is," responded
the prefect calmly, "we all know to our
shame, but the baseness of the victim brings
no honor to the assassin. And besides all this,
my lord, the Prætorian soldiers still respect the
memory of Germanicus too highly to spill the
blood of his daughter."
"Nero then must seek instruments that will
do his pleasure. Do me at least the favor to
summon the freedman Anicetus to my pres-
ence. Yet stay, Seneca," observing that the
moralist made a movement towards the door,
"and thou, Burrhus, wilt not leave me yet.”
Seneca bowed in acquiescence, and suppress-
ed the painful struggle of his feelings. Scenes
like the present were becoming but too familiar
in the life of him whom he had endeavored to
educate for a nobler career; but he could not
yet shake off the fearful responsibility of his
office. He shuddered at his own forebodings
NERO AT BAIE.
81
of the future, and sought vainly, and eventual-
ly to his own ruin, to mitigate the torrent of
cruelty which he could not control.
The freedman entered with a cautious step,
and that air of malicious, determined cunning,
which is sometimes found to mark the basest
instruments of the basest crimes. He stood
submissively at the foot of the couch, while the
prefect and the philosopher regarded each other
in expressive silence.
"Thou knowest my danger, Anicetus !"—
Nero began in the softest tones of his effemin-
ate voice, for the presence of the determined
assassin had calmed his agitation, "thou know-
est my danger.'
""
"And can relieve it, Augustus," was the
prompt and unqualified response. "The wo-
man whom I hate has escaped the wave; but
the sword remains."
"Hearest thou, Burrhus ?" cried the Em-
peror, with a levity of manner, which, as con-
trasted with the abject terror he had recently
exhibited, sickened the hearts of those who be-
held it. "Thou must be prompt, Anicetus,
and bold."
"Have I not ever been so in the service of
Nero ?" asked the freedman with a smile of
C
82
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
self-satisfaction, "let but my master command
it, and the mistress of Bauli will soon sleep
with Claudius."
"Haste, then," exclaimed Nero, springing
from his couch and moving swiftly across the
chamber, "fly, Anicetus; take with you fit
men for the purpose, and consummate all.
Your reward shall not be wanting."
"Anicetus asks no reward," replied the as-
sassin with a malicious smile, "but I have for-
gotten to announce that a messenger from Bauli
waits without."
"So soon ?" asked the Emperor, "this bodes
us no good. Admit him," he added, as he no-
ticed the peculiar expression upon the counte-
nance of the freedman, some message, doubt-
less, of our dear mother's regard."
66
As the curtain fell, he turned to his counsel-
lors who stood silently regarding the scene, and
asked, with an air of gaiety, slightly crossed
by a sneer:
"What think ye, sirs, of a friend like this
freedman at need ?”
"The instrument,” replied Burrhus, boldly,
but calmly, "is worthy of the deed."
66
Mehercule !" laughed the Emperor, snap-
ping his fingers, "thou art hard upon us, Burr-
NERO AT BAIE.
83
hus. And thou, our grave uncle-we will not
ask whether thy philosophy, by which we yet
trust our soul hath profited, would sanction
the undertaking; but necessity must know no
scruples. Ho, Agerinus! and how fares our
worthy mother ?”
The messenger made his obeisance with suit-
able reverence, and then replied in a respectful
tone:
"She has arrived safely at Bauli, Augustus,
but has been exposed to the extreme dangers
of shipwreck by the way. She desires me,
however, to assure you, that by the favor of the
gods, and the good auspices of the Emperor,
she has survived the peril, and now courts the
rest and retirement which are necessary to res-
tore her exhausted energies."
66
Umph!"-retorted Nero, with a short, dry
cough, and looking doubtfully at Anicetus:
"it gives me sincere joy to receive these auspi-
cious tidings."
66
Agrippina, my prince," added Agerinus,
"was deeply fearful of the effect which the
news would have upon her son, the anxiety of
whose affection she knows; and, therefore, she
trusts that he will for the present avoid that
interview which his love will doubtless prompt
84
JULIA OF BAIÆ,
him to seek. She hopes ere long to meet him
at Rome, in perfect health and peace.'
""
"May the gods send it !"-responded the
Emperor, in well affected solemnity—“ but
thou wast present at the disaster, Agerinus;
tell us how it chanced, for the tale which hath
been already brought to our ears is a strange
one indeed."
“The crush of the upper deck"-answered
the freedman-"was sudden and complete.
Now how it chanced we know not, for the air
was calm around, and the gulf beneath with-
out a wave."
"Hearest thou, my tutor ?" interposed Nero,
with an artful appeal to Seneca, the object of
which, however, it might have been difficult for
the philosopher to understand; "some evil
demon hath a pique at us, and would reach
our heart through the destruction of our moth-
er. Well, Agerinus ?"
"The fall of the deck destroyed Acerronia
and Gallus, but the empress escaped unhurt,"
continued the messenger; "in her terror she
committed herself to the water, and was nobly
rescued by the tribune Flavius, with the slaves
of Metellus, the patrician.'
""
"Flavius deserves our gratitude," replied
NERO AT BAIE.
85
Nero, "and we will not be slow in discharging
the debt. Did she land at the villa of Metel-
lus ?" asked he, vacantly, for his eye was ar-
rested by the movement of Anicetus, who at
that moment drew his dagger from his girdle
and lifted it on high above the head of the
freedman, as he stood behind him. Then, as
suddenly changing his purpose, he bent to the
earth and deposited the weapon silently between
the feet of Agerinus.
"Her impatience," answered the freedman,
unconscious of the movement, "would not per-
mit her to do so, although much solicited to
that effect."
"Treason!” suddenly shouted Anicetus, in
a voice of thunder from behind, while he laid a
strong hand upon the tunic of Agerinus,
"treason, august prince! ho, soldiers !" he
cried, "the traitor hath sought the life of the
most sacred Emperor."
At this bold stroke of villainy, the lip of
Burrhus curled in proud disdain, while the
philosopher recoiled in surprise at the sudden-
ness and cunning of the movement.
"We are wanted here no longer, uncle," said
the former, as he passed his arm into that of
the philosopher, and led him from the room.
86
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
Nero raised his finger in a threatening man-
ner, as he caught the parting glance of his pre-
ceptor, and in the next moment a party of
prætorian soldiers, headed by Flavius, the tri-
bune, burst into the apartment.
"Noble tribune !" exclaimed Anicetus, with
well-acted alarm, "this wretch hath essayed
the life of the Emperor."
"Is it so, Augustus ?" demanded Flavius, as
he saluted Nero.
The cold eye of the tyrant dropped before
the searching eye of the tribune, and the flush
which the previous excitement had brought,
left his cheek, while he answered, pointing to
the freedman, yet firmly held in the grasp of
the unscrupulous assassin: "It is so, tribune!
thou wilt find beneath his robe, nay, at his
feet, the evidence of his guilt!”
"Bind him, soldiers," cried Anicetus, with a
movement which disclosed the dagger at the
feet of Agerinus, "I pledge my life to the
truth of my assertion, that he drew his dagger
upon Nero, incited by the unnatural rage of
Agrippina against the life of her son.”
The soldiers hesitated, and stood alternately
regarding the tribune and the Emperor as if ex-
pecting further warrant for the seizure.
NERO AT BAIÆ.
87
"Why do ye hesitate, soldiers ?” demanded
Nero, with an air of authority, "or does the
tribune," he added, with a suspicious glance at
Flavius, "doubt the word of Nero ?"
At a gesture from Flavius, the soldiers seized
Agerinus and hurried him from the room, while
the former replied:
"As I saw not the deed, Cæsar, it was but
fitting that my soldiers should wait for the
command of the Emperor, who did."
"True, Flavius," replied Nero, who felt at
that moment the necessity of conciliating the
bold and popular soldier before him, "and we
interpret the hesitation as but another token
of your scrupulous loyalty. We owe you
thanks, noble sir, for the service this evening
on the gulf of Baia."
66
'It was but an act of humanity, my prince,”
answered the tribune, suppressing his indignant
emotions," and I risked nothing in the effort."
"Nero will not forget it, and begs thee to
accept this ring as a pledge of his gratitude.
And now farewell," he added, rising from his
couch, "for we have too long resisted the genial
god of sleep."
The tribune and Anicetus left the presence
together, the former to nurse the virtuous in-
88
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
dignation of a noble heart, the latter to con-
summate the dastardly and relentless purpose
of the Emperor.
The solitude in which Nero was left seemed
to bring the speediest and most acute pangs of
remorse. Scarcely had the sound of the re-
treating footsteps died upon the ear, when he
fell a prey to those horrors of conscience, from
which, in his lonely hours, as Tacitus relates,
he was never free. With wild gestures, in
which rage, levity, and fear were strangely in-
termingled, he paced the room of the cabinet,
now muttering imprecations upon his mother,
now soliciting the favorable regard of his tutor,
and then, as if quailing before the stern eye of
Burrhus, or the tribune, impotently grasping
at the dagger beneath his robe. His cheek was
pale, his eye bloodshot, his lip quivered; and
the tottering and uncertain footsteps indicated
the complete confusion of his faculties. It was
not long, however, before a movement in the
silken hangings which fell gracefully from the
ceiling on the side of the room opposite to that
by which his recent visitors had departed, ar-
rested his attention. As if suddenly inspired
with hope, or recalled to circumstances which
he had forgotten, he sprang eagerly forward
NERO AT BAIÆ.
89
and brushed aside the drapery. A glow of sat-
isfaction passed over his countenance, as the
opening displayed a female forin, guiding into
his presence one whose venerable aspect, long
silvery beard and oriental dress, were sufficient
to designate him as an astrologer.
The form and countenance of the former of
these were of that dazzling and imperious
beauty, which fitted the possessor to acquire an
almost unlimited control over one who was
steady in nothing but slavery to the worst pas-
sions of human nature. The devout believer
in classic fables might have been pardoned, if
the sudden apparition had startled him into
the impression that he beheld Juno descending
upon earth, with the obedient Thunderer at her
side. Luxuriant curls of glossy auburn clus-
tered over her finely outlined brow and temples,
and descended till they mingled with the broad
and rich purple fringe of the palla. In her eye
there was a haughty serenity, which accorded
well with the large and clear expanse of brow,
perfect Roman nose, and imperious curl of the
lip.
The astrologer seemed to have passed, by
many years, the meridian of life; but elasticity
was yet visible in his form and mien, and an
8*
90
JULIA OF BAIE.
unrepressed vigor in his large and searching
eye.
"Ha, Ibrim !" exclaimed Nero, "I have
strangely forgotten thee and thy sacred toils,
amidst the many cares of state. Doubtless the
stars are propitious to Nero, for thou bringest*
Venus in thy train."
The astrologer bent his eyes meekly to the
ground, while she who accompanied him ad-
vanced into the cabinet, and raising her finger
with affected solemnity, replied:
"The horoscope has been cast, my prince,
and there are promising influences in the house
of life."
"Nay," replied Nero, "I would know what
has been the aspect of the stars, since the moon
went down."
"Malignant rays," replied Ibrim, "from the
region of Sirius, crossed the western quarter, as
I sat and watched, scarcely three hours ago.
But they shortly vanished in the same quarter."
"This accords with the fact, Poppaa," re-
plied the Emperor, and in a low tone, apart
from the astrologer.
"The stars are propitious, my prince," re-
sponded the aspiring beauty, while a smile of
sinister meaning crossed her haughty features,
NERO AT BAIÆ.
91
(C we have no more to fear from the tyranny or
the unnatural acts of Agrippina.”
"A disaster has threatened me, then ?" asked
the Emperor, turning to the astrologer, with a
look in which credulity seemed struggling with
suspicion, "canst thou tell of what nature ?"
"I cannot, Augustus !" was the brief and
prompt reply.
"But thou canst read the future ?"
"I see the promises," replied the other, "of
a long and glorious reign. Jupiter and Venus
in conjunction, and Mars, red and glorious,
travelling upward to the zenith."
66
The oracle speaks bravely," said Nero, with
a smile of gratification, "no double meanings
here to perplex our poor wits. May I look
upon the tablets, venerable Ibrim ?"
The astrologer advanced and spread the tab-
lets upon the couch before the Emperor, who
surveyed them with childish curiosity; the ex-
hilarating influence of his thorough belief in
the imposition displaying itself in the mingled
solemnity and levity of his manner. But we
prefer to drop the curtain upon the scene.
Amidst the general irreligion of the Roman
world, the voice of the oracles was silent, and
the withering neglect of a generation of free-
*
92
JULIA OF BAIA.
thinkers lay upon the groves and sacred foun-
tains. But the passion which prompts man to
look into futurity was as strong as ever in his
heart, and in the midst of his contempt for the
old modes in which it had been allayed, astrol-
ogy presented itself with higher pretensions,
and soon with complete acceptance. From the
days of Julius Cæsar, the astrologers became
numerous, not only in Rome itself, but through-
out the provinces. The recent decree of ban-
ishment by Claudius, had been but feebly
enforced, and long before his fall the astrolo-
gers had resumed the practice of their art, with
a publicity which proved how little they feared
the prohibition. Under Nero, every supersti-
tion which stimulated the guilty ambition and
inflamed the passions of men, found a congeni-
al atmosphere; and he himself lent a willing
and eager ear to their ravings. Astrology was
one of the instruments by which the artful
Poppea was winning her way to power; and
the tools which she employed in her work were
completely subservient to her purposes.
:
CHAPTER VI.
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
The spirit of grace
Is dealing with thy spirit: be received
A ransomed penitent to the high fellowship
Of all the good and bless'd in earth and heaven.
JOANNA BAILLIE.
TEOLI, or the city of wells, was, at the
PUTH
period of our tale, one of the most beauti-
ful and flourishing of the cities of Campania.
Vessels and traders from all parts of the Ro-
man world frequented its ports, and its shops
displayed the useful products and costly luxu-
ries of every clime. Its suburbs, like those of
Naples, were crowded with villas of Roman
citizens, extending to the gardens of Baiæ on
the one hand, and the soft and green declivities
of Mount Pausilippo on the other. Here, as
hinted in a former chapter, was the favorite
country seat of Seneca, not far from which at a
considerable elevation, arose the humbler, but
no less delightful retreat of the mother of Lu-
94
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
OF
can, whither the poet was wont to retire for the
prosecution of those pursuits of elegant litera-
ture, which have preserved to the world the
better spirit of that degenerate yet eventful age,
and made his own name immortal among men.
The broad and well paved public road which
passed through the magnificent artificial grotto
of Pausilippo, and swept in a graceful curve
along the shore, was bordered on each side by a
line of stately forest trees, which afforded a
grateful protection from the rays of the sun,
even at noonday. Fountains and statues
gleamed here and there among the groves that
stretched from the road-side, along the open
country, and up the gentle acclivities, and occa-
sionally the princely portico of some patrician
mansion, or the front of a temple or public
bath, might be distinguished behind the luxu-
riant foliage. The dark and delicate spires of
the mountain pine were richly contrasted with
the bright green of the olive and the vine,
while nearer the earth, the profusion of gay
flowers and blossoms of fruit-trees, gave a live-
liness and variety to the scene, which no season
but an Italian summer, spreads upon the earth.
A morning of singular beauty and freshness
had succeeded to the serene loveliness of that
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
95
eventful night, whose general aspect we have
endeavored to describe. The sun was yet below
the horizon, but the atmosphere was so clear,
so brilliant, and withal so balmy, as scarcely to
need the light and warmth of the orb of day.
The dew hung like clustering diamonds upon
every leaf and blade, and the songs of the early
birds floated upon the air in those joyous and
silvery tones which seemed to indicate that
their little hearts were revelling in the rare de-
lights of the scene and the hour.
Beneath the heavily-laden branches of an
almond tree on the verge of the city of Puteoli,
a female figure occupied, at this early hour, the
low block of marble, which seemed once to have
served as the pedestal of some fallen statue.
Her dress was that of one in the middle ranks
of life, and there was an air of cultivated ease
in her deportment and attitude which seemed
above her station; while the earnestness with
which she applied herself to the perusal of a
manuscript in her hand, confirmed the impres-
sion of education and intelligence which a
spectator might have received from the imper-
fect glimpse of regular Grecian features, chas-
tened by the traces of thought.
She raised her eyes from the scroll as the
96
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
sound of approaching footsteps reached her
ear, disclosing as she did so, an eye of much
brilliancy, and even wildness of expression,
which the general calmness of her features
could not correct. The fire of a settled and
intense enthusiasm was plainly visible in the
burning glance, and yet the smile that played
about her parted lips was almost as soft and
sweet as that of an infant.
In a few moments, a turn of the road dis-
closed to her the forms of Julia of Baiæ and
her Judæan attendant, on their way from the
western suburb to the gulf, where the barge-
men of Lateranus were in waiting. A glance
of recognition passed between Salome and the
stranger, as the latter pointed to the sun which
was just rising in the gorgeous east, adding, as
she did so, in the Greek tongue, the simple
and beautiful morning salutation of the early
Christians,
"The Lord is risen !"
"The Lord is risen, indeed," replied the mu-
sical voice of Salome, "and hath appeared un-
to Simon."
"Kyrie eleeson!"
"Christe eleeson!
"And is this," asked the female pointing to
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
97
Julia, whose simple dress effectually concealed
her rank, while her features were but indis-
tinctly seen through the veil which descended
almost to her feet, "is this a sister in the faith,
Salome ?"
66
Nay, Epicharis,” replied the young Judæ-
an disciple with some hesitation, "she is one
who seeks the knowledge which enlightens the
mind, but hath not yet been brought to the
holy waters of baptism."
"The faith," exclaimed Epicharis, with a
glance of such peculiar brilliancy, that it thrill-
ed the very heart of Julia, "the faith which
truly informs the mind must touch the heart.
Hath she heard the words of the apostle ?"
"I have," answered Julia, "I have heard
eloquence to which that of Cicero and Lucan,
is but lifeless declamation."
"Alas, young dove of the Gentiles!" re-
plied the Greek fervently, "thou hast enjoyed
a privilege which Epicharis must not yet seek;
but if thou restest with the instrument, the
spirit of truth is not yet thine. Paul may
plant and Apollos may water, but God must
give the increase."
"Discard me not, Epicharis!" answered
Julia, in a voice trembling with emotion; "I
7
98
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of
God."
Salome dropt upon her knees at this unex-
pected confession, and with hands clasped up-
on her breast, raised her eyes to heaven in mute
but eloquent thankfulness. It was beautiful
to behold the enthusiasm which enkindled the
countenance of one so lovely, into something of
the aspect of an angel.
"Who is this, Salome ?" asked Epicharis,
in surprise at the fervor of the Judæan, while
the glow deepened upon her own cheek, at the
sound of tones not unfamiliar.
"The distinctions of earthly rank are noth-
ing before the Lord of lords," replied Julia,
uncovering her features, the tears yet sparkling
upon her cheek, and her soft dark eyes tender
with the expression of Christian love, "I am
the daughter of Julius Metellus."
"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed Epicharis,
"thou art then among the first fruits of the
high and noble of Rome, as Damaris was of
Athens."
"And thou, Epicharis ?" asked Julia, in a
tone which discovered how deeply she was in-
terested in the question.
"Ask me not, my sister. I am yet but a
?
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
99
poor and feeble catechumen, scarcely daring to
aspire to the privileges of the faithful. Epi-
charis must do much and suffer much for the
name of Jesus, before the sacred drops of bap-
tism may touch her. brow."
"How ?” replied the maiden, as she felt the
singular fascination of this woman's presence,
and wondered at the effect.
"The deeply sinful, maiden," replied the
Greek, looking up to heaven, "must pass
through the deepest waters of cleansing. To
me, I know, a fiery trial is appointed—a bap-
tism of blood-ere the name of the Triune God
shall make me one with the Church. But
thou, tender and trembling lamb, the fold is
open for thee."
"I also," replied Julia, "am but a catechu-
men, and have not yet received the gift which
flows from the laying on of the Apostles'
hands."
"But thou hast heard the words of Paul of
Tarsus, maiden ?"
66
My heart is yet burning with their import,”
replied Julia.
"Daughter of Metellus," replied the Greek,
with great solemnity, "I cannot but hope that
the Lord hath chosen thee for great things.
100
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
Perhaps thou shalt win that glorious crown re-
served for so few of our sex.'
"My earthly desires are satisfied," replied
the maiden, not comprehending the allusion.
"I speak not of an earthly crown, my sister!
but of one whose jewels sparkle only on the
brow of the redeemed. But the spirit will
teach thee all that thou must be and suffer.
Search the Scriptures, be much in prayer, and
the evil one shall not have power to mar the
purity of thy faith.”
"I feel a happiness," answered the maiden,
"which I never knew before. The love of God
seems to be shed abroad over all this beautiful
earth, and the sweet light of day, the verdant
hills, the flowers, the delicious breezes, the
birds, I hail them all as the manifold and pre-
cious gifts of the Lord of heaven.'
"It is a happiness," observed Epicharis,
"which none but He can inspire, and of which
none but He can deprive thee. Thou wilt be
exposed to many temptations, young sister;
but His love will prove to thee a fountain of grace
and strength, and thy joy shall grow deeper,
the more severely thy faith is tried."
The maiden lingered with her attendant in
that lovely spot, until the bustle of the awak-
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
101
ing city, and the increasing throng which
poured in from the suburbs, to the various av-
ocations of toil, traffic or pleasure, caused them
to bid farewell to the Greek. The discourse
turned upon the words of the Apostle, and the
occurrences at that early assemblage of the
Christians, to which Salome had conducted the
daughter of the patrician. Divine truth from
the lips of Paul had found its way to the heart.
of the latter, and her mind awoke to the power
and beauty of Christianity. Tutored, as she
had been from infancy, in the popular mythol-
ogy, and perfectly familiar with the thousand
beautiful associations with which the genius of
the best and purest of the Grecian and Roman
poets had invested it, the unsatisfying specula-
tions of the recent philosophy, which, while they
pretended to inculcate truth by stripping off
the gorgeous drapery of the old poetic faith,
induced a painful and universal skepticism,
had left her mind in that state of darkness and
doubt, which, to a young and trusting spirit,
is, if possible, worse than the "void inane” of
absolute atheism. The tender vigilance of her
father had carefully defended her from the in-
fluence of those absurd and degrading supersti-
tions in which the vulgar mind seemed so
9*
102
JULIA OF BAIE.
eagerly to seek refuge. The better philosophy
of Plato, coldly transmitted as it was in the
pages of Cicero, had for a long time offered the
only gleams of truth amidst the gloom by which
she felt herself encompassed. Immortality had
dawned upon her soul, faintly and afar, as a
dim, but beautiful vision, which the murky
clouds between seemed ever ready to dispel.
Accustomed as she had been to look upon the
Christians as but a sect of the fierce and intol-
erant adherents of the Jewish law, it was not
until during her later conferences with Salome,
that she had learned the true nature of that
religion which proposes to its votaries faith in
a divine Redeemer, as the only principle of sal-
vation and pledge of immortality, which offers
heaven only to the pure in heart, the self-deny-
ing, and the virtuous; and proposes to sustain
the spirit amidst the calamities of life, and the
fears of death, by the glorious spiritual conso-
lations which a God of love imparts. A reve-
lation like this, to her earnest, guileless and
trusting spirit, seemed truly as a light from a
better world-as a revelation of truth from the
celestial fountain of truth. The recent dis-
course of the Apostle had disclosed to her the
nature of sin, the intimate connexion between
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
103
its guilt and the atoning blood of the Redeem-
er and the Spirit of God had sealed the con-
victions which his words had awakened, and
along with the wounding of her spirit, brought
hope and trust in the salvation provided for
the penitent and believing. It was, therefore,
with a calm and thankful heart, that she bid
farewell to Epicharis, and presently embarked
on her return to her father's villa.
*
As the vessel glided slowly over the waters,
her mind dwelt upon the singular character
and history of the female she had just left.
She now comprehended the secret of that
change of conduct and life, which in Epicharis
had been so thorough and sudden, that to the
world it was wholly inexplicable, except on the
supposition of disgust with life, or alienation
of mind. Julia had known her long as the
favorite slave of the mother of Lucan, whose
native vigor of intellect and rare accomplish-
ments, acquired by the most persevering appli-
cation to arts for which the nature of her con-
dition allowed her little leisure, had long ex-
cited the admiration of all who were accustom-
ed to resort to that favored haunt of the muses.
Her faithfulness in servitude gained for her, at
length, the reward of enfranchisement. Yet,
104
JULIA OF BAIÆ.
although this was a blessing which, during her
servitude, she was known to have longed for
most ardently, it seemed to be but feebly val-
ued when actually received; she still remained
attached to her former mistress by the willing
tenure of affection: nor could the suggestions
of ambition, nor the allurements of pleasure,
induce her to break the connexion. Her views
of life seemed to have undergone a complete
revolution. Her once unrestrained mirth gave
place to habitual seriousness, sometimes to
tears, of which none knew the occasion. While
a more tender and submissive spirit than that.
which had characterized her during the period
of her servitude, was evident in all her language
and deportment; she seemed desirous of seek-
ing retirement from the world, and when nec-
essarily called into society, she studied to avoid
the exhibition of those accomplishments by
which she had hitherto attracted so large a
share of admiration. As Julia thought upon
these circumstances, she found a convincing
evidence of the transforming power of Chris-
tianity, while yet there was something almost
painfully interesting in the remembrance of her
ardent and enthusiastic manner, during their
interview. The occasional allusions of Epicha-
PUTEOLI, BY THE WAY-SIDE.
105
ris too, to her own lot, only deepened the mys-
tery-and it was with a feeling of bright ex-
pectation, chastened by fear, that she looked
forward to the future, as connected with her
own destiny, and that of the remarkable woman
whom she could still discern in the distance,
perusing her manuscripts by the road-side of
Puteoli.
BOOK THE SECOND.
ROME.
Thy foster babes are dead,
The men of iron, and the world hath rear'd
Cities from out their sepulchres.
CHILDE HAROLD, IV. 89.
Nero made his entry, flushed with the pride of vic-
tory, over the minds of willing slaves, and proceeded amidst
the acclamations of gazing multitudes to the capitol, where
he offered thanks to the gods. From that moment he threw
off all restraint.
TACITUS, LIB. XIV. 13.
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
The sea is white with sails
Innumerable, wafting to the shore
Treasures untold; the vales, the promontories
A dream of glory; temples, palaces
Called up as by enchantment, aqueducts
Among the groves and glades rolling along
Rivers on many an arch high over-head
And in the centre, like a burning sun,
The imperial city.
THE
ROGERS.
traveller, as he descends Mount Albano,
looks with a mingled sensation of admira-
tion and awe upon the wide-spread champaign
of Rome, the scene of so many stupendous
revolutions, of so much earthly pomp and
grandeur, transformed by time and the vicissi-
tudes of human affairs, almost into a desert.
While every thing around reminds him that he
is looking upon the wreck of a mighty empire,
O
10
110
ROME.
whose gigantic magnificence transcends his
powers of conception, his heart sinks under the
conviction of the frailty and evanescence of the
most splendid memorials which human ambi-
tion has reared to mark its progress and to
record its triumphs. It is with a melancholy
interest, therefore, that fancy essays to call up
the vision of its former splendor, and to repeo-
ple the desert and pestilential area with the
forms of its departed millions. He looks upon
the scanty spots of cultivation in the cheerless
expanse of rank grass and wild flowers, and
thinks of the thousand Roman villas, the
dwellings of emperors, senators, and nobles,
beautifully reposing amidst their parks, pleas-
ure grounds and gardens, in which the produc-
tions of every clime bloomed and ripened with
fresh luxuriance. Within the once broad and
beautiful amphitheatre of hills and mountains
which scarcely served to enclose the ancient
city, he looks in vain for the retreats of those
noble men, who
Held poverty no evil, no reproach,
Living on little with a cheerful mind,
The Decii, the Fabricii-
of heroes who returned from the conquest of
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
111
the world to end their days amidst the simplic-
ity and retirement of nature. Amidst the ruins
of tombs and aqueducts, the frequent frag-
ments of arches, temples, and splendid edifices,
he wanders, vainly endeavoring to discover the
reality of that magnificent picture which dawn-
ed upon the daily studies, and mingled with
the nightly dreams of his youth. Before him,
indeed, rise the Seven Hills; but where is the
"eternal city," whose eagles glanced in the ris-
ing and setting sun-the city whose extent and
splendor furnished no unapt symbol of that
vast and wondrous empire, achieved by the
arms, and governed by the wisdom of her citi-
zens ?
The ocean hath his chart, the stars their map;
But ROME is as the desert, where we steer
Stumbling o'er recollections; now we clap
Our hands and cry "Eureka!" it is clear--
When but some false mirage of ruin rises near.
Far different, eighteen centuries ago, was the
scene which spread itself before the eye of him
who approached the metropolis of the world.
Then the stupendous amphitheatre was adorned
with the proudest trophies of power, wealth
and art, and crowded with life. From the
112
ROME.
smiling gardens and marble structures, which
scarcely marked the boundaries of the city, be-
yond its outermost walls, onward over broad
and glittering ways, through streets crowded
with temples, obelisks, triumphal arches, and
kingly structures; over stupendous aqueducts,
by magnificent porticos, baths, theatres and
squares, the grandeur and beauty seemed ever
increasing, till the capitol arose upon the ach-
ing sight as a "burning sun," the centre of
majesty, and the shrine of power.
Towards noon of a bright and serene day in
summer, the usual throng of citizens in the
Campus Martius, and along the Flaminian way,
announced that some public spectacle was at
hand. Every thing in the general aspect of the
streets and public places betokened a day of
popular show and pleasure. The tribes from.
the different wards of the city were gathered
upon the Campus Martius, under their respect-
ive insignia, while the bands of the Prætorian
guards, in full military attire, with polished
armor glittering in the sun, were stationed here.
and there upon the wings of the vast body of
the populace. The roads beyond the gates on
each side of the Tiber were thronged with mul-
titudes wending their way towards the capitol.
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
113
The triumphal pillars, the obelisks, the fronts
of the porticos, the statues upon the bridges,
the walls, the gates were crowned with flowers,
and decorated with gay garlands; while at
various places along the Flaminian way, be-
neath the Porta Triumphalis, and up the as-
cent to the capitol, rows of scaffolding were
erected as if for the performance of some un-
usual solemnities.
It was the appointed day for the entrance of
the Emperor into Rome. Nearly a month had
elapsed since the events we have attempted to
describe, during which, Nero, reeking with the
blood of his mother, loitered in the towns of
Campania, unable to determine in what man-
ner he should return to the city. The arts of
his courtiers, and the obsequiousness of the de-
graded senate, at length restored his courage,
and induced him to traverse the champaign, as
a conqueror advancing toward a triumph, which,
indeed, awaited him. The obedient populace
seemed actuated by but one feeling of devotion,
and the wildest vanity of his heart was satia-
ted by the inordinate homage he received.
Afar off, winding among the recesses of the
sacred forests along the Tiber, and at the base
of the Alban hills, and echoed on every side
114
ROME.
.
from the mountains, pealed the stirring notes of
the trumpet, while ever and anon the shouts of
the multitude arose in chorus, till the welkin
rung with plaudits. Then succeeded the shrill
and wild music of the clarion, from the bands
gathered within the walls and along the public
ways, answered by other joyous bursts from
those who occupied the Campus Martius. The
women and children were continually occupied
in strewing the walks with branches and flow-
ers, and the clear ringing chant of youthful
voices sang of the conqueror's return to the
bosom of his people. The altars before the
Mausoleum of Augustus, the circus of Statilius
Taurus, and the Pantheon, smoked with in-
cense, while the flamens of the respective gods
to whom they were dedicated, stood robed upon
the steps, with knives in their hands and vic-
tims at their side, ready for sacrifice.
Loud and stirring peals of music at length
announced that the procession had passed be-
neath the Flaminian gate, and presently the
glowing line was visible to all assembled in the
Campus Martius. First came the musicians of
various kinds, singing and playing triumphal
songs, succeeded by the lictors, having their
fasces wreathed with laurel, and in their train
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
115
a glittering throng of musicians and dancers,
dressed like Satyrs, and wearing crowns of gold.
A company of noble virgins robed in white,
their tresses wreathed with the wild olive, and
their features partly concealed by the long
thin veils of gauze, followed, bearing vases of
perfume, which they scattered in the way as
they proceeded. Then came the chariot of the
Emperor, accompanied by that of Seneca on
the right, and the prefect Burrhus, mounted
on an Arabian steed, on the left. Glowing
with the excitement of the scene, Nero stood
erect in the chariot, clothed in a magnificent
robe of purple, embroidered with gold. On
his brow he wore a crown of laurel. In his
right hand he held a branch of laurel, and in
the left an ivory sceptre, surmounted by an
eagle. A golden ball, containing the sacred
amulet, hung upon his breast, and as the char-
iot rolled on, according to the trained move-
ment of the milk-white steeds, he bowed affably
to the people on every side, and answered their
extravagant gestures of homage with encourag-
ing smiles.
Behind him in the chariot, stood a slave,
bearing a golden crown sparkling with gems,
who frequently bent and whispered in his ear,
116
ROME.
according to a custom with conquerors, “RE-
MEMBER THAT THOU ALSO ART A MAN."
As the procession approached the triumphal
gate, the music suddenly ceased, and a new
and more imposing element was added to the
splendor and grandeur of the scene. Sweeping
down from the Capitoline hill, the august body
of the senators, led by the consuls, was seen in
official robes, and crowned with olive, advanc-
ing to meet the imperial chariot. Their
greetings were performed in solemn silence, and
ere long a flourish of trumpets announced that
they had taken their proper place in the proces-
sion, which was that immediately behind the
Emperor. As they took their places, the Præ-
torian guards closed in behind, and the proces-
sion, pouring at length through the arched
porticos of the forum, began to ascend to the
capitol.
Situated in the highest part of the city, and
strongly fortified, the ascent to this lofty and
central point in every public display, was by
one hundred steps, elaborately adorned on each
side by statues and columns. The brazen gates
and gilded tiles of the principal edifice, shone
gloriously in the meridian sun. This building
occupied a square of nearly two hundred feet
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
117
on every side, and contained three temples, con-
secrated to Jupiter, Minerva, and Juno. In
the middle the temple of Jupiter, media qui
sedet æde DEUS, reared its imposing structure,
with that of the goddess of wisdom on the
right, and of the queen of heaven on the left.
At various points, also, upon the majestic sum-
mit of the hill, arose the smaller structures of
the temples of Terminus, and Jupiter Feretri-
us, and the cottage of Romulus, covered with
straw, near the Curia Calabra.
As had hitherto been customary only on oc-
casion of some regal victories obtained over the
enemies of the empire, or on the discovery of
dangerous conspiracies, the obsequious senate,
when informed of the desire of Nero to return
to the city, had decreed that a thanksgiving
should be offered in all the temples. As the
Emperor arrived on the summit of the hill he
observed, with a smile of gratified vanity, that
preparations had been made for the peculiar
solemnities of the Lectisternium. The images
of the gods had been taken down from their
pedestals and placed upon magnificent couches,
around the altars, which were loaded with a
profusion of delicacies in services of gold. The
image of the Capitoline Jove, alone, occupied
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ROME.
1
its usual majestic position, before which stood
the Pontifex Maximus in his official robes, sur-
rounded by his attendant priests. In the midst
of these, unconfined, and seemingly at liberty,
stood the animal to be sacrificed, adorned with
fillets and garlands, and a small crown pendant
from the tip of each gilded horn.
The imperial chariot paused in front of the
temple of Terminus; the senators, leaving the
procession, arranged themselves within the por-
tico of the Capitolium, while the lictors pro-
claimed silence.
From the centre of the group, the Consul
advanced, and taking his position between the
image and the altar, began in a loud voice to
declare the occasion of this public and joyous
thanksgiving.
"The life of the most sacred Emperor," he
proclaimed, “has been in danger from the ma-
licious arts of the enemies of Rome. Agerinus,
the freedman of Agrippina and of all her crea-
tures, the highest in her confidence, gained
access to his cabinet armed with a poniard; but
the gods having enabled his faithful servants to
detect the conspiracy, with the same spirit
which planned the murder of her son, she
speedily despatched herself, when the tidings
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
119
reached her ears. The Roman people are well
aware of the crimes of this miserable woman.
They know that her ambition aimed at a share
in the imperial power, and that she obliged the
Prætorian bands to take an oath of fidelity to
her. The senate and the people were to sub-
mit to the same indignity, and bear the yoke
of female tyranny. Seeing her schemes de-
feated, she became an enemy to the fathers, to
the soldiers, and the whole community. She
neither suffered a donation to be distributed to
the army, nor a largess to the populace. At
her instigation prosecutions were set on foot
against the best and mest illustrious men in
Rome. If she did not. enter the senate and
give audience to the ambassadors of foreign
nations, all present well recollect how that dis-
grace was prevented.
"Who remembers not," he continued, "the
crimes which she perpetrated during the reign
of Claudius? We shudder yet at the enormi-
ties of that period; but Agrippina was the
cause of all. Her death, therefore, is an event
in which the good fortune of the empire is sig-
nally displayed. By a decree of the senate,
therefore, you are assembled together, citizens
of Rome, to offer up thanksgivings for the de-
120
ROME.
feat of the machinations of this guilty woman,
and for the safety of the Emperor and of the
empire."
As the consul proceeded in this harangue,
Nero, assisted by the slaves of his household,
who followed his chariot, threw off the imperial
garments and appeared in a tunic of pure
white. At a gesture from the Pontifex Maxi-
mus, he advanced and stood before the altar,
while the pope brought forward the victim for
the sacrifice. Amidst a solemn and impressive
silence, the salted cake was sprinkled upon the
head of the beast, and the frankincense and
wine poured between its horns. The sacred
hairs, as the first fruits of the offering, were
plucked out and thrown into the fire-the vic-
tim was struck with the axe, and stabbed with
knives, and the blood, collected in goblets of
gold, poured upon the altar. Then the augurs
advanced, and having inspected the entrails, de-
clared that the signs were favorable, and that
the sacrifice of Nero was acceptable. The
flames upon the altar soon consumed the parts
of the victim consecrated to the gods, and the
prayers of the pontifex, followed by the liba-
tion, announced that the ceremony was con-
cluded, when the body of the people, assem-
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
121
bled to witness it, silently retired to their res-
pective quarters.
The festivities which followed were greatly
in contrast with the solemnities of a scene,
which although viewed by all rather as one of
the customary mummeries of a religion, whose
only worth or significance consisted in its con-
nexion with the state, was not without a de-
gree of impressiveness for the popular mind.
Whatever awe the enactments might have left,
however, upon the minds of those that remain-
ed, was speedily dispelled by the unbridled lev-
ity of the Emperor, and his attendants, and
the scenes of riot and revel, in which even the
most venerable of the senators seemed to hold
it no disgrace to plunge.
With a thoughtful brow, the tribune, Flavi-
us, continued to occupy his allotted post, before
the temple of Juno, until the sound of the
trumpet announced the welcome period of his
release from duty. Gathering his military
cloak around him, he quickly descended the
broad steps of the capitol, and shaped his course
by a private street toward his quarters, at the
base of the Viminal hill. It seemed, however,
that his movements had not been unobserved,
for, presently, a female form, clad in the usual
11
122
ROME.
garb of a Roman matron, with features closely
veiled, emerged from the shadow of a pillar,
and followed with swift, but almost noiseless
footsteps, in the same direction.
Absorbed in the proud and melancholy reflec-
tions which the scenes of the day had excited,
and disgusted with the part which he himself
had been compelled to take in the public ap-
proval of a crime at which his soul revolted, he
slackened his pace as he drew near the camp,
and it was not until after the lapse of a consid-
erable interval, that he became conscious of the
vicinity of another person. The rustling of
garments once or twice caught his ear, without
arresting his step. At length, however, the
distinct mention of his name, in a low but firm
voice, caused him to turn quickly and look
upon the woman.
"Who seeks Flavius ?" he inquired, as he
gazed with some interest upon the closely veiled
figure before him.
"One who seeks him for purposes of good,
for she comes to warn him of danger."
"I live in an atmosphere of danger," he re-
plied, “and if thou canst not tell me how it is
to be avoided, thy kindness may prove of little
value."
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
123
こ
​"Such information is within my power, tri-
bune !"
"And who art thou," he asked, "in whose
bosom the fate of one unknown to thee excites
so much interest ?"
"Who I am," she replied, in measured and
somewhat melancholy tones, "it boots not now
to ask. Suffice it to say, that I have the power
and the will to serve thee. Thou wast among
those who vainly rescued the unhappy Agrip-
pina from that death which unnatural rage
brought upon her in another form. Thou hast
enemies—enemies in high places of power."
"I
"Such enmity, woman,” replied Flavius,
regard not, for the gods protect their own. If
thou hast no more to say, withdraw and let me
pass on."
"They aim to strike the first blow at those
who are dearer to thee than thine own life; but
with such cunning that thou shalt not be able
to see whence the blow descends."
"If thou hast aught to reveal, say on," he
added, impatiently, but with awakened inter-
est, as the mysterious stranger hesitated.
"Hear, then, and as thou hearest, prosper.
Ere many days a murderous blow will be aimed
at the life of Julius Metellus, and through
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ROME.
him, at the honor of his daughter. The for-
mer consul is one whom Nero both hates and
fears; and the beauty of Julia of Baiæ yet
lives in the memory of Tigellinus."
There was enough in the recent transactions
of the abandoned court of the Emperor, as re-
vealed to Flavius, during his own residence at
Baiæ, to give weight to insinuations of this
nature. As he heard, his memory rapidly ran
over the circumstances which had already fallen
under his notice, and he felt, not without a
thrill of apprehension, that, in his memories
and her words, there was much to warrant
suspicion and incite to vigilance.
"Thou mayest not know, at least not yet,"
continued the female, "the name of her who
thus warns thee, but she asks not thy belief
without proof of what she says. There is a
grove which skirts the Appian way, near the
tomb of Cæcilia Metella. If thou wilt meet
me there when the moonbeams first silver the
towers of the capitol, thou shalt know all that
a brave man needs to know, when danger threat-
ens. The approach by the Nævian gate will be
secure and safe from observation."
"And how shall I know," replied the tri-
bune, again surveying the figure before him.
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
125
with a scrutinizing glance, "that thou art not
trifling with my credulity ?"
"I leave no pledge, tribune,” replied the wo-
man, firmly, "nor will I offer any guarantee of
my truth. If thou feelest the object to be
worth thy endeavor, thou wilt risk the chance
of deception. Farewell."
Ere Flavius could reply, the figure had de-
parted from his side, and turning the corner of
one of the narrow streets, was soon obscured
by the shadows, which, owing to the size and
closeness of the buildings, always enveloped
some of the less elevated parts of the city even at
noon-day. Impressed, in spite of himself, with
the manner and import of the communication
made to him, he lingered irresolute, till the last
gleam of her robes vanished in the distance,
and the increasing throng of the soldiers and
populace recalled him to himself.
66
66
Strange," thought he, as he proceeded on
his way,
that the warning of this woman ac-
cords so well with the fears that have weighed
upon my own mind during all the transactions
of this day. There was, in truth, that in the
greeting with which Nero received Metellus,
which boded dark designs and concealed malice.
I will go."
11*
126
ROME.
The return of Julius Metellus to the city had
preceded that of the Emperor by some days,
during which, his election to the consulship
had been proposed. While his known patriot-
ism and integrity, thoroughly tested during his
administration of the inferior offices of quæstor,
edile and prætor, served to animate the hopes
of many with the prospect of some relief from
the tyranny and corruption of the court, it was
more than suspected, that the Emperor secretly
entertained towards him that hatred with which
he had long since begun to regard every thing
in the semblance of public virtue. Nero was
well aware, also, that the acquaintance of Me-
tellus with many of his darkest and most dis-
gusting crimes, might prove dangerous in the
event of a decline of the popular favor. The
tale which ascribed the attempted destruction
of Agrippina by shipwreck to accident, was
known to be false; but the humor of the pub-
lic mind, disgusted with her long and unblush-
ing career of crime, and looking forward to a
period of unrestrained license and amusement
under the administration of her son, was, as
yet, rather disposed to applaud than to condemn
her murder. But the fears of Nero, awakened
by the risings of an evil conscience, could know
NERO'S RETURN 127
•
TO ROME.
no rest so long as those of such consequence
and influence as Metellus, or the prefect and
tribunes of his guard had it in their power to
stir up the people by palpable proof of his
wickedness.
As the mind of Flavius dwelt upon these
things, his thoughts fastened, with an interest
of a more tender and melancholy nature, on the
defenceless situation to which the beautiful
daughter of Metellus must inevitably be ex-
posed, in the event of a successful conspiracy
against the life of her father. He knew of the
danger to which the bold admiration of the
court favorite, Tigellinus, had more than once
exposed her, and the brief but alarming insin-
uation of the woman who had so strangely
crossed his path, served at once to disclose all
the hazards to which the unscrupulous, but se-
cret machinations of such a monster might
give rise. In his own bosom he had nourished
hopes and aspirations to which, in the sweet
self-delusion that ever marks the rise of sin-
cere and virtuous love, he had scarcely yet dared
to give a name. The image of Julia of Baia
was as a vision of almost more than mortal
beauty and purity to his soul; it mingled with
his daily thoughts, and dawned upon his
128
ROME.
dreams. And these feelings, while they served
to preserve him from the influences of the im-
pure and demoralizing atmosphere of the city
and court, impelled him to a more thorough
and conscientious discharge of his duties as a
citizen and a soldier. The sympathies, which
attract lofty and generous minds toward each
other, had established between him and the
prefect, Burrhus, the closest friendship. Aware
of the regard which that officer cherished to-
wards Metellus, and being well assured of his
zealous cöoperation in the event of danger to-
ward the latter, his first impulse was to seek
the prefect, and breathe his own suspicions in
his ear. But the reflection that he, as yet, knew
nothing of the threatened evil, soon corrected
this resolve, and he determined to await the
revelations which the night might bring to him.
The heart of the tribune rose with profes-
sional pride as he emerged from the arches of
the Forum of Augustus, and soon beheld be-
fore him the broad and well ordered camp of
the Prætorian guards, reposing upon the level
and fortified area between the Viminal and
Quirinal hills. Snowy tents and broad silken
banners were rustling in the breeze; the eagles
upon the lofty standards seemed floating in air,
NERO'S RETURN TO ROME.
129
above the thousand points of glittering steel,
from the stacked arms of the infantry, and the
brilliant caparisons of the cavalry, all burnish-
ed by the sunlight. The broad, open space
between the tents and the ramparts seemed
deserted, save by here and there a single senti-
nel, pacing his regular and monotonous round
in the shadow of the fortifications which en-
closed the camp, composed of palisades strongly
and intricately secured by iron bands, and de-
fended by a ditch of the usual depth and width
of twelve feet In the midst of the quadran-
gle formed by the tents, arose the Prætorium,
or General's quarters, sufficiently designated
by its superior height and the broad eagle,
which, as the emblem of the power of the em-
pire, rested upon the standard that arose from
its midst. Although many forms were seen
moving in the inner streets, or darkening the
doors of the tents, no sound arose to break upon
the stillness of the scene. The step of the sen-
tinels was noiseless on the soft grass, and the
horses were feeding quietly at their stations.
Presently the sound of a trumpet from the
quarter of the capitol aroused the tribune from
his momentary reverie, and turning quickly, he
noticed that the last of those bands who had
130
ROME.
been stationed along the Campus Martius
during the solemnities of the day, were return-
ing to their quarters. The prefect led the
troop, as with military precision, and spears in
rest, they paced the well-paved streets. The
tribune retained his position, until a gesture
from Burrhus induced him to assume a station
by the side of the latter, and they proceeded in
silence to the camp. As they drew near, the
low and prolonged notes of the trumpet in the
vicinity of the Prætorium arose upon the air,
followed almost instantly by the gathering of
the cohorts, with glittering arms and banners
displayed in every street of the camp. And as
the returning party passed within the ramparts,
it was beautiful to behold with what celerity
and order the troops marshalled themselves in
their respective ranks-how brightly their arms
shone in the declining sun, how silently the dis-
ciplined movements of that living mass were
performed. No hurry in the dense and serried
ranks, no jostling of band with band, no clash-
ing of armor upon armor. The very footfalls
were silent upon the grass, and the scarcely
audible martial tramp, to a superstitious ear,
might have seemed like the tramp of the dead
on the shores of the fatal river.
CHAPTER II.
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
Have you not cloven feet? are you not devils,
Dare any say so much, or dare I hear it
Without a virtuous and religious anger?
Now to put on a virgin modesty,
Or maiden silence, when his power is questioned,
That is omnipotent, were a greater crime,
Than in a bad cause to be imprudent.
Your gods! your temples! brothel houses rather,
Or wicked actions of the worst of men
Pursued and practised. Your religious rites!
O, call them rather juggling mysteries,
The baits and nets of hell; your souls the prey
For which the devil angles; your false pleasures
A steep descent by which you headlong fall
Into eternal torments.
MASSINGER.
IBERIUS, abandoned and shameless as he
TEBBY
was, sought to hide himself, his vices, and
sensualities amidst the rocks of Capreæ. But
Nero seemed to take a fiendish delight in ex-
posing his execrable wickedness to the light of
open day. No sooner was he relieved from the
2
132
ROME.
dread of the designs of Agrippina, than he gave
a loose rein to the meanest and most vicious
passions. During the few years of his cruel
and licentious reign, the capitol was transform-
ed into a scene of universal dissipation, riot,
and debauchery. Neither rank, nor age, nor
civil honors, furnished an exception. All de-
grees embraced the theatrical art, and, with
emulation, became the rivals of Greek and
Roman mimicry; proud to languish at the soft
cadence of effeminate voices, and to catch the
graces of wanton deportment. Persons of rank
studied the worst characters. In the grove
planted around the lake where Augustus gave
his naval engagement, booths and places of
recreation were erected to pamper luxury, and
inflame the passions. By the prince's order,
sums of money were distributed. Good men,
through motives of fear, accepted the donation,
and to the profligate, whatever ministered to
sensuality was sure to be acceptable.
The manners, says Tacitus, had long before
this fallen into degeneracy; but in these new
assemblies, a torrent of vice bore down every-
thing beyond the example of former ages.
Even in better days, when science and the lib-
eral arts had not entirely lost their influence,
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
133
virtue and modesty could scarcely maintain
their post; but in an age that openly professed
every species of depravity, what stand could be
made by truth, by innocence, or by modest
merit ? The general corruption encouraged
Nero to throw off all restraint. He mounted
the stage, and became a public performer for
the amusement of the people. With his harp
in his hand he entered the scene; he tuned
the chords with a graceful air, and with deli-
cate flourishes gave a prelude to his art. He
stood in the circle of his friends, a Prætorian
cohort on guard, and the tribunes and centu-
rions near his person. The tribe of sycophants
assumed airs of grandeur, swelling with self-
importance, as if they were all rising to prefer-
ment by their genius or their virtues.
A quiet summer evening had succeeded to
the excitement and bustle of the day; the sky
was cloudless and bright with stars, but with-
out the moon, whose crescent outline was, as
yet, scarcely visible through the deep red of the
horizon. The religious festivities on the Cap-
itoline hill had ended at sunset, and the public
places, so recently thronged with life and splen-
dor, were now nearly deserted. It was, in
fact, that interval of repose when those who,
12
134
ROME.
like the Romans, spend the greater part of the
day and night abroad, find it necessary to recruit
the energies exhausted by one round of enter-
tainments, for the enjoyment of the different,
though no less welcome excitements of another.
One quarter of the city, however, presented
an exception to the general silence and repose.
As the shadows of the evening fell upon the
scene, the bustle of preparation that proceeded
from the neighborhood of the Pantheon of
Agrippa, and the frequent lights flashing
through the dense and lofty groves that encom-
passed the lake, betokened the spot chosen for
the revelries of the night. A cohort of the Præ-
torian guard was already in waiting at the Tri-
umphal gate, whose special duty seemed to con-
sist in preventing the premature visits of the
more anxious or less weary of the populace to
this attractive suburb.
As the hour wore on, the streets became ani-
mated with groups of citizens in the same gay
attire which they had worn during the day.
Now and then a superb chariot, belonging to
some individual of the more privileged orders,
rolled through the closely marshalled ranks, or
the retinue of some noble, proceeding on foot,
and ushered by torch-bearers, glided swiftly but
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
135
silently along the gentle descent in the direc-
tion of the lake.
Among those whom business or leisure sum-
moned thus early to the scene of the festivities,
was one who, to all appearance, was privileged
with an exemption from the rules to which the
populace were subjected; for he enjoyed at
pleasure, the liberty of egress, and was ob-
served continually flitting to and fro in the
vicinity of the gate, with no very definite
course, and seemingly without object. His
dress, of coarse materials and uncouth fashion,
was partly civic and partly military, while the
polished flute, suspended from his girdle, the
gay Babylonian sandals, and above all, the
tablets and stylus partly visible between the
folds of his vest, indicated a singular combina-
tion in one individual, of offices and accom-
plishments usually distinct.
The movements of this individual, although
they excited little attention from the soldiers,
seemed to afford matter of much interest to
the groups of citizens who loitered within the
walls. Those most remote from the gate gath-
ered into little circles as he passed, and by
whispers and significant gestures, as levity or a
deeper emotion prompted, communicated their
*
136
ROME.
impressions to each other. In one of these
groups, however, the interest which he excited
seemed to be of a more permanent nature than
that which mere curiosity, or love of gossip, is
found to prompt. Three individuals, enveloped
in sable cloaks, which might have been assumed
either for show or disguise, were gathered
around the base of a statue of Jupiter Ultor,
whose colossal proportions projected a deep
shadow towards the quarter occupied by the
guards, enabling those within to observe freely
the motions of the passers-by, while they them-
selves were comparatively concealed from ob-
servation.
"The spies of the Emperor are already at
work," observed one of the individuals thus
alluded to, in a low voice, to his companions;
"one can hardly mistake the object of all this
unusual activity in yonder fantastic servitor of
his pleasures and humors. What thinkest
thou, Vespasian ?”
"His object or movements matter little to
me, noble Flavius,” replied the person address-
ed, "and little I should think to thee, except,
perhaps, in the just indignation which must
arise in a soldier's breast, as he witnesses the
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
137
practice of such unworthy acts. But thou
knowest the man ?"
"The barber of Naples," replied Flavius,
66 cannot change his ill-favored features as read-
ily as his garb. But I marvel somewhat as to
the special nature of his attentions here this
evening."
"Who leads the cohort ?" abruptly demanded
Vespasian.
"Statilius Quadratus," replied the tribune,
"as thou mayest see by the aspect of the
ranks."
"Then I can echo thy suspicions with all my
heart. Was this appointment by the order of
the Emperor ?"
"Of Nero, I presume," replied Flavius, "al-
though Tigellinus was the channel through
which it reached the Prætorium."
"Nay, then," answered the centurion, “I
cry you mercy, Flavius. Never did good come
out of such a combination. But mark-per
hercle the barber is not lacking in gallantry,
whatever may be the amount of his general
qualifications.”
As Flavius turned his eyes in the direction
indicated by the centurion, a singular spectacle
presented itself to his view. A tall figure, clad
ར
12*
138
ROME.
in the robes of a female, the materials and
adornments of which were of unusual splendor,
was seen descending from the steps of a superb
chariot, on which, in several places, the impe-
rial insignia were emblazoned. On one side of
this principal figure, he discerned the stately
form and grave, melancholy features of Seneca,
the painful expression of which was scarcely
at all concealed beneath the half-drawn hood
of his cloak, and the high collar attached to
the tunic. On the other side, the erect frame,
and haughty but noble countenance of Burrhus
was visible, his brow firmly contracted, and his
eye bent with a stern expression upon the evo-
lutions of the soldiers of the cohort, who had
moved from their former position, and were now
silently arranging themselves on either side of
the chariot.
"The Emperor !" exclaimed Flavius, in a
tone in which surprise, indignation and con-
tempt seemed struggling together for expression.
"Such as the gods have sent us," replied the
centurion.
"If there are gods in Rome," muttered Fla-
vius, "they must avenge this degradation! I
am tempted to cleave the heart of this disgust-
ing wretch, even where he stands."
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
139
"Speak lower, Flavius !" replied the centu-
rion, with difficulty suppressing his own emo-
tions, as he grasped the hand of the tribune in
sympathy; "the time for that work is not yet
come. And thou, Sulpicius Asper," he cọn-
tinued, as the glance of another individual of
the party met his own, "remember that the
time is not yet come !"
"The time must come, ere long, Vespasian !"
replied the person addressed, "or this heart of
mine will burst with vexation. A Roman
soldier cannot bring himself to look often on
such a scene. The very marble frowns upon it,
and did I not know that there are brave men
and true, whose wisdom better fits them for
discerning the time than my own, Jupiter Ultor
should not long be without his bolt.”
Vespasian smiled in approval of the enthu-
siasm of his colleague, as he withdrew his eye
from the haughty and frowning features of the
statue that rose above them, and then caution-
ing silence, by an expressive gesture, again
directed the attention of his companions to the
scene before them.
Other personages had been added to the im-
perial party, among whom Flavius recognized
Metellus, and the favorite, Tigellinus. So far
140
ROME.
from shunning publicity, or avoiding the gen-
eral observation in the disgraceful disguise he
had assumed, Nero proceeded onward through
the silent ranks of the cohort, with a mincing
and affected step, while, on the outside of the
throng, the chariot moved on at a slow pace, in
which sat the haughty and beautiful Poppea
unveiled before the multitude, but to all ap-
pearance, disregardful of their presence.
While the eyes of the tribune were yet fixed
in indignant scorn on the retiring procession,
he was suddenly startled by a gentle touch upon
his gloved hand, and a voice whispered in his
ear, "Remember the place and the hour, if thou
wouldst serve Julius Metellus: seek not to dis-
tinguish my form in the crowd, and above all,
attempt not to follow me: beware of the bar-
ber of Naples, for his eye is upon thee with a
fell design."
The tribune, as he heard these last words,
checked the impulse by which he was at first
inclined to confront and detain the speaker.
On changing his position with a more cautious
movement, he observed that the individual was
completely lost in the crowd. The attention
of his companions had been so entirely concen-
trated upon the scene before them, that none
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
141
but he was aware of the mysterious interrup-
tion. The next moment served to convince
him that the intimations of the woman, in one
point at least, were worthy of confidence. The
individual alluded to had left the retinue of
the Emperor, and was approaching his own
party with a light, silent step. As he drew
near, he saluted the officers with the air of one
who was sure of the parties with whom he
communicated, and observed, in a voice whose
low, and occasionally hissing intonations were
anything but grateful to the ear :
"Ye will miss the pageant, citizens of Rome,
and the Emperor cannot lack the presence of
his friends."
"The humble seek retirement, sage Syphax,"
said one in the garb of a citizen, as he passed,
"we follow on according to our degree."
..
66
True, Annulus," responded Syphax, an-
swering the unsought greeting with a knowing
smile, intended for the party of the tribune,
"but the auspices of this night proclaim all
modesty a crime. The most sacred Emperor
woos the meanest to his embraces and his con-
fidence."
"The people will doubtless profit by the
favor," rejoined Sulpicius Asper, in a bold
142
ROME.
voice, "the love of the Emperor is known to
be as the last gift of the gods to oppressed
mortals."
66
'And what is that, friend ?" inquired Sy-
phax.
"Elysium, man !" replied Asper, "dost read
man!"
the poets ?"
Syphax nodded approvingly, and cast a scru-
tinizing glance over the whole group, until his
eye settled steadily upon the countenance of
the tribune. An expression of malignant cun-
ning, inwardly congratulating itself upon the
detection of its object, crossed his sinister fea-
tures for a moment, and his fingers seemed to
move, as if unconsciously, towards the stylus,
which projected from between the folds of his
vest. Then, as if his object was accomplished,
he made a careless gesture of farewell, and was
soon lost among the throng that was pouring
through the ample arch of the gate.
Prompted by a sense of duty, or the desire
of diversion, the officers followed in the same
direction. The front of the Pantheon arose in
the distance in the midst of a brilliant circle of
light, and the beautiful outline of the temple,
the light Augustan portico and the groves,
was distinctly traced upon the horizon, yet
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
143
crimsoned with the lingering hues of the sun-
set. The surface of the lake at length opened
upon
their view through the vistas of the trees,
and as they entered the deep shadow projected
by the outer circles of the trees, a scene of daz-
zling splendor was presented, such as only the
licentious prodigality of the court of Nero
could have called into existence.
Upon the bosom of the lake, towards the
richly adorned and cultivated shore on which
the Pantheon was erected, floated a platform
of prodigious size, supported at a slight eleva-
tion, and capable of being moved to and fro
upon the water, by a number of boats superbly
decorated with gold and ivory. On this plat-
form, covered throughout by the richest carpets
of Persia, were erected tables and couches, as
if in preparation for a feast; the former loaded
with a profusion of golden plate, the latter
decorated with drapery of imperial purple,
which presented a striking contrast to the deli-
cate ivory and silver material on which it was
hung. In the centre was erected a sort of
stage, adorned after the same fashion, around
which a number of musicians were observed
with their respective instruments, arranged on
each side of the throne or chair of state, if such
144
ROME.
it might be called, which by its trappings, was
evidently designed for the Emperor.
A row of booths, decorated with curtains of
silk and festooned with flowers, lined the shore
in its whole extent; but they were as yet unoc-
cupied, save by those soldiers of the guards,
whose duty it was to prevent the intrusion of
improper persons. Beyond these were discern-
ed the gay groups of the populace in continual
agitation, as curiosity or love of change
prompted their movements.
The sound of a trumpet from the Augustan
portico, at length announced that the principal
actors in the expected entertainment were about
to assume their stations. A thousand lights,
as if by magic, suddenly blazed along the front
of the portico, and on every roof and tower of
the stately mansion of Agrippa beyond. The
richly carved vases of ivory, containing fragrant
oils, which were placed at frequent intervals
between the drapery of the booths, were lit up
by the torches of a crowd of nymphs gliding
simultaneously from their coverts, as the musi-
cians answered the appointed signal by a spir-
ited prelude. Ushered upon the stage by
Tigellinus on the one hand, and Poppea on
the other, Nero appeared in the garb of a wo-
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
145
man, and receiving the golden lyre, which a
slave presented with bended knee, took his seat
amidst the shouts of the spectators.
Then succeeded the usual disgusting farce of
solicitations from the populace, that the Em-
peror would afford to them the entertainment
which his talents qualified him to give, followed
by all the mock humility and parade of affec-
tation, the half uttered excuse, which they
knew to be as a command to renew their en-
treaties--and the seemingly reluctant compli-
ance, at the last. From the minuter details of
this scene, the peculiar province of our tale
happily excuses us, and we turn with pleasure
to pursue the fortunes of one in some degree
worthy of our sympathies.
The party of the tribune, as it came within
view of the spectacle upon the lake, sought a
retired position within the grove, beyond the
gay circle of the booths, and as the pageant
proceeded, seemed desirous to avoid all partici-
pation in the applauses, which arose continu-
ally from the excited crowd. Flavius looked
upon the varied display with a vacant eye, until
the sudden appearance of Nero upon the plat-
form, vividly recalled to his mind the appoint-
ment to which a few hours would call him, and
13
146
ROME.
the warning he had received.
Wearied with
the exercises of the day, and careless of exhib-
iting his contempt for the base arts to which
the Emperor degraded himself, Vespasian re-
clined at ease upon one of the rustic seats
spread for the accommodation of the specta-
tors, while Sulpicius Asper stood at hand with
a clouded brow and curling lip, scanning the
silent ranks of the cohort, which were now
marshalled under their leader upon the oppo-
site shore.
"Thou hast marvellous little humor for the
music with which the Emperor favors us, As-
per," remarked Vespasian, as a flourish of more
than ordinary merit drew forth
forth unusual
thunders of applause from the crowd, "this
is the very rage of mortals inspired by the
muses."
"I might add a strain," replied the centu-
rion, “not altogether in harmony, bad I the
command of yonder burly trumpeter. One
good blast might, even here, lead to deeds
which would eclipse the Ides of March."
"By Jupiter, Asper, but this rash humor of
thine will ruin us all," replied Vespasian, in a
low and emphatic tone.
"Nay, if I am rash," responded the centu-
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
147
rion, in a more subdued manner," my excuse
must be sought in the provocation."
"Tantæne animis cœlestibus iræ ?" said a
voice close to the ear of the centurion, "surely,
brave centurion, thy words are all but pro-
phetic."
66
'Prophetic to thee, at least, base slave,"
responded Asper, in obedience to an impulse too
powerful and sudden for him to resist. In an-
other moment the polished steel of his dagger
flashed in the air, and the weapon descended
like lightning into the heart of the intruder.
Syphax, for it was he, fell to the earth with-
out a groan, or even a struggle. The work of
death had been instantaneous. The features,
as he fell, writhed in a fearful expression of
hate and disappointed malice, and the red dila-
ted eye glared horribly upon his murderer.
"Fool!" exclaimed Vespasian, starting from
his seat, and seizing the centurion by the arm,
"what hast thou done ?"
"Sent a knave to Orcus before his time," re-
plied the excited Asper, spurning the corse
with his foot with such vehemence, that it rolled
down the gentle declivity under some of the
unoccupied seats below; "let him practise his
148
ROME,
accursed trade there, if he can find employers
base enough."
"Away!" replied Vespasian, "the deed was
a rash one, but I cannot find it in my heart to
reproach thee. Away! Flavius," he added, as
the tribune, thoroughly roused by the sudden-
ness of the occurrence, was about to ask an
explanation of what, in fact, had transpired
while his attention was absorbed upon the
scene beyond, "ask no questions, but follow."
At that instant, a figure closely enveloped in
the circular cloak and hood, so commonly
adopted by the Romans, both for purposes of
protection from the inclement air and for con-
cealment, passed hastily through the group, as
if by accident, and whispered in the ear of the
tribune:
66
Away-but secure the scroll at the centu-
rion's feet."
Again warned in the same mysterious man-
ner, the tribune eagerly turned in the direction
of the voice, but the figure had already mingled
with the crowd before them. Happily for his
party, the interest of the populace in the fête
at the moment of the fall of Syphax, was such
as entirely to absorb their attention. It had
been witnessed, as it seemed, but by one indi-
THE LAKE OF AGRIPPA.
149
vidual of the whole throng, and that individual
was evidently friendly.
Profiting by the suggestion he had received,
as one intimately connected with his own safety,
and the yet unrevealed nature of the danger
that threatened Metellus-he snatched from
the ground a small roll of parchment which
had fallen from the girdle of the dead barber,
and placed it hastily within the folds of his
own vest.
"Away!" again added the stern voice of
Vespasian, "an outcry for this caitiff must
soon be made, and the honor of a soldier should
not be stained by the blood of one so base,
however righteously shed."
They passed swiftly through the gloom of
the grove, into the open space beyond, and
then, as if regardless of observation, beneath
the serene but dim starlight of the plain, pur-
sued their way toward the city.
13*
CHAPTER III.
THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA.
There is a stern round tower of other days,
Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone,
Such as an army's baffled strength delays,
Standing with half its battlements alone,
And with two thousand years of ivy grown,
The garland of eternity where wave
The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown;
What was the tower of strength? within its cave
What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid? A woman's grave.
CHILDE HAROLD.
This will be done, and well concealed,
But see the writing!
THE MARTYR.
A
S the tribune issued through the Nævian
gate, and bent his course along the shaded
avenue called the Appian way, a glance at the
glittering height of the capitol, over which the
crescent moon was just rising with a tremulous
and uncertain lustre, announced that the hour
of his appointment had already arrived. Gath-
ering his cloak around him in closer folds, as a
protection against the damp air that swept
THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA. 151
from the Tiber and the numerous sheets of
water in the southern suburbs, he quickened
his pace, until a less publiccroad induced him
to change his route toward the place of meeting.
Ere long a beautiful grove of cypress, in the
midst of which arose the magnificent tomb of
Cæcilia Metella, became visible in the distance.
His first glance was sufficient to convince him
that his presence was expected. The same
female figure which had so often crossed his
path during the day and evening, was distinctly
seen among the trees. She was not, however,
alone. At the entrance of the grove stood a
tall form, as if of a person on guard, while one
or two others lay couched in the shadow of the
trees.
A transient suspicion of danger crossed the
mind of Flavius as he drew near, and his hand
mechanically sought the hilt of his sword.
But his step manifested no indecision. Pro-
ceeding forward with the same firm and meas-
ured pace, he soon confronted the sentinel, who,
as though regardless of his vicinity, stood mo-
tionless as a statue, in the moonlight.
"Welcome! tribune," said the female, in the
same low, musical accents he had heard before.
"I have sought this strange interview," re-
152
ROME.
plied Flavius, "in obedience to your request:
if you have aught to impart, concerning me or
my friends, speak; if not—”
"The suspicion," replied the woman, "is ill-
timed, but you shall have the advantage of the
doubt. Speak, Varus Dobella !"
"Dobella!" exclaimed the tribune, in an in-
credulous tone.
A manly form enveloped in a military cloak,
arose from the ground, and throwing back the
hood, revealed the well known features of his
former colleague, and equal in military rank.
"We meet, my friend," he said, "under
cover of the night; but our enterprise is worthy
of a soldier's heart, and a soldier's hand. I
know that in the bosom of Subrius Flavius
there is one heart that yet beats for the honor
of Rome. As such, tribune, we have called
thee to our conference.”
"In aught that may comport with the honor
of Varus Dobella," replied the tribune, advanc-
ing and taking the proffered hand of his friend,
"Subrius Flavius is willing to adventure. If
your object, as I suspect, has already enlisted
the energies of Vespasian and Sulpicius Asper,
there is hardly need of this mystery."
"We seek," replied Dobella, quickly, while a
THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA. 153
heavy sigh proceeded from the female at his
side, "to prevent crime, not to commit it. It
is enough, Flavius, that I know to what you
allude, and with me the words of friendship are
sacred. The arrows of vengeance are in the
quiver of the Almighty, and they will smite the
tyrant, when the cup of his iniquities is full."
"Noble Dobella," exclaimed the woman in
quick and earnest accents, "surely the crimes.
which cry aloud to heaven-"
"Peace! my sister," responded the soldier,
"you know not what spirit you are of. The
powers that be, are ordained of God. Hast
thou forgotten already the last admonition of
the Apostle ?"
The person he addressed bowed her head and
was silent; and, as if in answer to the inquir-
ing look of Flavius, the soldier proceeded:
"There is that within me, my friend, which
deters me from participating in the designs of
Vespasian and Piso. When I tell you that I
am a Christian, you will perhaps sneer at the
despised name.".
"Nay, Varus,” replied the tribune, "I have
more than suspected this."
"The time may come, Flavius, when you
will seek to know more of that which were
154
ROME.
hardly well spoken of here. Suffice it to say,
that the laws of them I serve bind me to the
throne of the Cæsars, so long as my hand may
aid in upholding it without impiety."
"Is there no impiety," again interposed the
female, "in the dreadful mockeries of this day
-a feast to the gods celebrated with parricidal
hands-is there no impiety in the revelry and
prostitution of this night? Oh Rome, Rome!
what shall deliver thee but the arm of the
Lord ?"
"Nay, my sister-" began the soldier.
"Varus Dobella," continued the woman in a
tone of deep enthusiasm, regardless of the in-
terruption; "I know that our brethren look
upon me as a misguided woman, and approve
not the secret purpose of my heart. But there
is a spirit within me which impels me to brave
even their reproaches. I seek not the grace of
baptism, for there is reserved for me a baptism
of blood. I dare not approach even the foot
of the altar, for I have not yet learned to sub-
due the fires of human passion. But as surely
as I believe that Christ is God, so surely do I
believe that the tyrant shall be smitten."
Dobella bent his head and groaned audibly.
The tones of the speaker ceased, and she retired
THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA. 155
to a short distance and sat upon one of the
steps of the tomb.
"Thou hast heard," replied the soldier, after
a brief pause, taking the hand of Flavius, "thou
hast heard the words of one who has dared to
mingle earthly elements in that offering of the
heart which should be made in the spirit of
pure and unreserved devotion to Him who re-
buked his disciples when they would call down
fire upon their enemies."
"The woman," replied the tribune, with a
look of solemnity, for the fervor of the singular
being he had just heard had impressed his
mind, "the woman seems to me as one inspired
of heaven. Hast thou not checked her too
harshly ?"
"I once reasoned as thou reasonest, my
friend," added Dobella, "but the living Spirit
of God has, I trust, purged away the mists
from my soul. The work to which I invite
you this night is one of salvation, rather than
of destruction. A deadly blow is aimed in
high quarters, at the prosperity of Rome, and
the lives of some of her noblest citizens. Among
these, Julius Metellus is the first destined to
fall. You can aid in warding off the stroke."
"This,” replied Flavius, pointing to the
2
156
ROME.
woman, "I have before learned from the fe-
male before us. But why was the communi-
cation reserved for this place ?"
"That thou mayest know where to find a
place of safety for those whom thou shalt res-
cue. Amidst the general wickedness of the
living, those who would escape the overthrow
must seek refuge in the silent halls of the dead.
Follow, then, and note the place well, for it is
among the secret things of Rome."
In obedience to a gesture of Dobella, one of
the attendants advanced to the tomb and re-
moved a stone from the floor at the summit of
the steps. Behind this was a block of marble
seemingly impenetrable, but which rolled aside.
on the application of the hand to a slight
groove near one of the sides of the opening, and
disclosed a flight of steps descending beneath
the surface.
Flavius and Dobella passed together into the
tomb, and stood upon the sanded floor which
extended for a considerable distance on every
side, until the eye failed to penetrate the gloom
beyond. A feeble light came down through an
opening in the tower above, just sufficient to
enable them to discern the general features of
the place. The air was comparatively pure
THE TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA. 157
and dry, and at the bottom of the stair a lamp
hung from an arch in the stone, with materials
for replenishing it placed on a shelf near at
hand.
"Hast thou the scroll, Flavius ?" asked Do-
bella, as he took the lamp from its place, "it
contains evidence of the danger we anticipate."
The tribune produced the parchment and
placed it in the hand of his companion. It was
a manuscript in bold Roman text, with a mot-
to in Greek.
"It is as I supposed," said Dobella, repeat-
ing the motto, εμοῦ ζῶντος γαῖα μιχθήτω πυρί,
and returning it to the tribune, "read, my
friend, and thou wilt no longer be skeptical."
The first words which he read seemed to riv-
et the attention of Flavius upon the parch-
ment. An indignant glance flashed for a mo-
ment in his eye, his cheek crimsoned, and an
angry cloud settled upon his brow.
"Per hercle !" he exclaimed, "this wretch
shall perish in the ruin he designs. Never did
heart of man nourish a plot so foul.”
"Yours is a virtuous indignation,” replied
Dobella, "but what you would do must be
done cautiously as well as firmly. My own
mission now is ended in this place, and a sacred
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ROME.
engagement calls me elsewhere. Make what
observations you deem necessary, in this silent.
place, for I doubt not that you will find its
shelter welcome ere many days. Farewell,
Flavius, and in the hour of need count upon
an arm that can yet strike with its old vigor,
in defence of the right."
"One question more, Dobella-the woman
from whom I have received so many intima-
tions, who and what is she ?"
"Thou shalt know," replied the other, "when
the knowledge may profit thee. Forgive this
show of mystery, but we are treading on dan-
gerous ground, and in such circumstances even
excess of caution is useful.”
So saying, he grasped the hand of the trib-
une and ascended the steps. The stone de-
scended lightly upon the aperture, and Flavius
was left alone in the tomb.
CHAPTR IV.
THE CATACOMB S.
Are you amazed, sir?
So great a Roman spirit-and doth it tremble?
How cam'st thou in? to whom thy business?
MASSINGER.
'Tis but a mockery of the sense,
Idle aud vain; we are but where we were;
Still wandering in a city of the dead.
ROGERS.
HUS left to himself, the tribune proceeded
THUS
to make those observations which might
render his knowledge of the place of the most
service to him when compelled to seek its shel-
ter with his friends. Heavy arches of stone
carved with funeral ornaments arose on all
sides, and the marble sarcophagus, containing
the remains of her to whose memory the strong
mausoleum was erected, stood in the centre of
the area, as stainless as on the day when the
seals were first affixed to it. No sound from the
upper world penetrated this abode of death.
160
ROME.
The flickering shadows of the foliage that
clustered around the opening of the tower,
were cast by the moonlight upon the sand be-
low; but all else, except that part of the tomb
within the little circle of light produced by
the lamp he held in his hand, remained shroud-
ed in darkness.
On the eastern side, he discerned what ap-
peared to be the opening of a passage beyond
the arch, and advanced to discover the retreat
to which it led. The narrow space soon con-
ducted him into an outer chamber, guarded
also on both sides with frowning arches, with-
in which were cut rude sarcophagi from the
native rock. An examination of the adjacent
parts proved that the apartment in which he
now stood had originally possessed no commu-
nication with the tomb he had left, and that
the passage between had been recently con-
structed, for the marks of the hammer upon
the stone were comparatively rude and fresh.
From the eastern extremity of this chamber
several passages led in different directions and
the peculiar aspect of the apertures was such
as to convince him that he had entered one of
those extensive places of sepulture, which were
constructed by Roman liberality for the com-
THE CATACOMBS.
161
mon benefit of the citizens. Curiosity, second-
ed by the hope of discovering an egress into
some part of the city, which might promise a
safer way of retreat in emergency than the en-
trance of the tomb through which he had
passed, led him to explore still farther these
mysterious subterranean abodes. As he ad-
vanced, the air became more damp and close,
and the feeble illumination produced by the
lamp was barely sufficient to guide him through
passages which grew continually more intricate.
Now and then a mass of stone or a broken
shaft, separated from some pedestal below the
arches, obstructed his path. Occasionally, al-
so, a sound, as of distant thunder, announced
that he was wandering beneath some public
way; and the stillness which succeeded brought
an awe upon his spirit whose influence he could
not resist.
"In this profound silence," thought he,
"must terminate all the busy activities-the
burning passions-the hopes and fears of the
millions above me. In this dreary abode, each
shall, ere long, take his appointed place. What
a lesson do these dim and silent halls read to
the feverish and aspiring heart of man! The
dust of past generations is around me, and I—
i
14*
162
ROME.
a single spark of life amidst the deep unutter-
able gloom-how feeble seems the tenure which
binds me to the living, how narrow the space
which separates me from the dead! And yet,
upon the battle-field, we learn to smile at
death, and to laugh away the terrors with
which he approaches us. Philosophy has
sought to make death serene and lovely, and
the poets have fabled him as the friend of the
virtuous and the brave. But here, confronted
with his grim, unadorned aspect, the stoutest
heart must quail before him. Shades of the
departed-what are ye now? These cold
damp ashes are rayless, voiceless; baser than
the earth with which they mingle; but is the
spirit of man as perishable as the clay? In
vain, alas! we ask in vain-"
The reverie of the soldier was suddenly bro-
ken by sounds which had power to enchain his
faculties as with a spell, and as he listened, his
heart sank beneath the dread of the place.
Faintly, as broken and softened by the distance,
the music floated to his ear-now hushed in si-
lence, which itself was eloquent, and now break-
ing forth anew in strains which seemed to
breathe both sorrow and joy. Amidst the
pauses of this strange unearthly music, he
THE CATACOMBS.
163
!
heard the beatings of his own heart. A deeper
gloom seemed to invest the scene around him,
and he almost looked to behold the skeletons
arise from their resting-places and start up in
the forms of living and breathing men.
The sounds approached, and a trembling
light struggled obscurely through the gloom in
the distance, then it was quickly darkened, and
then became visible again through the long and
tortuous passages.
The manner in which it
revealed itself plainly indicated that it was ap-
proaching the cross-path where he stood. He
was soon enabled to distinguish the tones of
different voices as they rose together in what
seemed to be a sort of religious hymn. At
times it thrilled through the cavern in clear,
unbroken, flute-like strains; then the melody
became soft, deep, and plaintive, and then a
solemn, powerful chorus, preceded the tempo-
rary pause. The sentiments of the hymn, ex-
pressed in the melodious language of the Greeks,
accorded with the beautiful simplicity of the
music, and he was enabled to distinguish the
following sentences:
"Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more;
Death hath no more dominion over him.
164
ROME.
For in that he died, he died unto sin once;
But in that he liveth, he liveth unto God."
"Christ is risen from the dead,
And become the first fruits of them that slept.
For since by man came death,
By man came also the resurrection of the dead,
For as in Adam all die,
Even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
A singular sensation chilled the heart of the
tribune as he listened to the words, for they
brought an answer to the solemn questions
which the aspect of these dreary abodes of
mortality had suggested to his mind. He
heard the triumphant words of those to whom
the doctrine of the soul's immortality was no
beautiful, vague abstraction, but a truth em-
braced with all the power of the understanding,
and all the power of the heart; which gave
them energy and hope amidst the struggles of
life, and enabled them to look forward with a
sustained calmness to the approach of death.
He had often heard of the peculiarities of the
Christians; but taught by the opinions of his
age and associates, to regard them merely as a
fanatic sect of those haughty and intolerant
Jews whose desperate struggles against the over-
whelming power of Rome had even then be-
THE CATACOMBS.
165
come an astonishment to mankind, he had lent
a careless ear to the doctrines attributed to
them, while he scrupled not to give credit to
the report of the secret crimes with which they
were charged. The words of Dobella were yet
lingering in his ear, and the impression pro-
duced by the brief but candid statement of that
brave soldier, concerning the principles which
actuated him as a Christian, had already weak-
ened the force of his old prejudices. He saw,
in him, that the partisans of the new sect might
be noble, self-devoted, virtuous, and sternly
loyal; while he could not but admire the ex-
alted and serene enthusiasm with which the
spirit of Christianity seemed to animate him in
all his relations. While the perverted zeal of
the female who had borne a part in the con-
ference had enlisted his interest, deeply stirred
as his own mind was with generous indigna-
tion at the past enormities and projected crimes
of the tyrant, he was at no loss to understand
the justice of the affectionate but pointed re-
buke which Dobella had administered to her.
He saw that while the faith of the latter re-
posed calmly upon the truth, that the God
whom he served would, in his own good time,
work the overthrow of wickedness, his religious
ご
​166
ROME.
principles forbade him to sanction conspiracy
and murder by enlisting in the enterprise which
was already on foot; but yet, that in every
undertaking necessary to prevent the due con-
sequences of the enormous crimes which Nero
projected, his spirit was active and his hand
was ready.
Thoughts like these passed rapidly through
his mind as he awaited, amidst the temporary
cessation of the music, the nearer approach of
what seemed to be a funeral procession of the
Christians. A few moments sufficed to bring
them to the chosen place of sepulture. It was
within one of the largest vaults; and a simple
slab of pure marble had been laid upon the
ordinary supports of the sarcophagus, upon
which the latter firmly rested.
A slight change in the position of the tri-
bune enabled him to command a view of the
ceremony, while he himself was screened from
observation. The momentary reluctance to re-
main a concealed witness of rites which were
ordinarily peformned in secrecy, was overcome
by the strong desire which he felt to know
more of the true principles and practices of
men whom he had once regarded with abhor-
rence as the foes of all religion and humanity,
THE CATACOMBS.
167
but whom he now suspected to have been gross-
ly misrepresented by the popular voice. He
reflected, too, that the effort to withdraw him-
self was hardly to be made without disturbing
the rites of affection and piety. He remained,
therefore, standing within the broad shadow of
the arch that frowned above him, while the
faint glimmer of the expiring lamp was thrown
altogether within the ample vault.
The party of the Christians more immedi-
ately engaged in the ceremony consisted of
some twenty or thirty persons, while a larger
concourse appeared to fill the passages beyond.
The corpse, evidently that of a Roman citizen
of the middle rank, was enveloped in a white
toga, and laid upon a light couch borne by four
men whose habits indicated an equality of rank
with the deceased. It was preceded by four
torch-bearers, and an equal number of virgins
clothed in white, and bearing flowers, walked on
each side with features partly veiled, and eyes
steadily bent upon the ground. Then followed
the officiating minister clothed in a snowy tu-
nic, and bearing in his hand a scroll of parch-
ment; after whom came the mourners and the
friends of the deceased. The accompaniment
of instrumental music, so common in Roman
168
ROME.
funerals, was dispensed with, and the heads of
the female mourners, contrary to the usual
custom, were covered with veils of linen.
The corpse was laid in the sarcophagus in si-
lence. The virgins advanced and strewed it with
flowers. Then the mourners drew near to take
their last sad farewell of the departed. They
bent over it with flowing tears, and imprinted
the kiss of affection upon the pale brow and
bloodless lips, while the deep tones of the read-
er were heard at intervals, administering the
solemn lessons and consolations of the divine
word to the living.
"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord;
He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
And he that liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.”.
"I know that my Redeemer liveth,
And that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.
And though after my skin worms destroy this body,
Yet in my flesh shall I see God,
Whom mine eyes shall behold and not another."
The tribune heard the suppressed sobs of the
afflicted ones as they retired from their melan-
choly office of love. They had scarcely reached
their places, when the whole group, as if in-
spired by a common feeling, united in the fol-
lowing hymn:
THE CATACOMBS.
169
FUNERAL HYMN OF THE CHRISTIANS,
I.
Brother, rest from sin and sorrow,
Death is o'er and life is won!
On thy slumber dawns no morrow,
Rest! thine earthly race is run.
II.
Brother, wake-the night is waning,
Endless day is round thee pour'd!
Enter thou the rest remaining
For the people of the Lord.
III.
Brother, wake, for He who loved thee,
He who died that thou might'st live;
He who here through grace approved thee,
Waits thy crown of joy to give.
IV.
Fare thee well-though wo is blending
With the tones of earthly love,
Triumph high and joy unending
Wait thee in the realms above
Amidst the impressive silence that ensued,
the voice of the reader was again heard, repeat-
ing those beautiful and animating words of St.
Paul, which set forth the high warrant for the
Christian's hope in the resurrection of the dead,
and his belief in the life of the world to come.
15
170
ROME.
The recent visit of the Apostle to Rome had
made them familiar with the epistles addressed
to the churches which he founded, and the
noble argument and spirit-stirring exhortations
of the Epistles to the Corinthians were pecu-
liarly prized and consulted on every occasion of
their assembling together.
Fresh flowers were strewn upon the body,
and when the marble shut it from sight, the
whole assembly knelt in prayer. In few, sim-
ple, but fervent words, the presbyter addressed
the throne of grace; then rising from his knees,
he pronounced over them, as they knelt, the
apostolic benediction. Then the assemblage
arose, and prepared for departure.
Deeply moved by the scene he had witnessed,
and the language he had heard, the tribune
knelt involuntarily when the prayer was offer-
ed, and his bosom heaved with new and un-
controllable emotions. He listened attentively
to every word that proceeded from the lips of
the presbyter, and his heart was opened to the
sense. As his eye turned from the thin but
glowing features of the speaker, to the counte-
nances of the mourners, lit up with all the
beauty of hope, and the forms of the virgins
kneeling around the sarcophagus, now covered
THE CATACOMBS.
171
with flowers; he almost looked to see the
marble burst open by the reanimated form of
the departed Christian. A new world of hope
and of high truth was suddenly opened before
him. He no longer wondered at the energy
which sustained the disciples of Jesus, as he
had seen them sustained in the midst of perils,
sufferings and death. What he had once look-
ed upon as the strangest and most misguided
enthusiasm, now seemed the resolved, but yet
sober action of reasonable men upon principles
which alone could truly elevate and strengthen
human nature. The Spirit of God had touch-
ed his heart through the instrumentality of the
Divine word; and, at that moment, Subrius
Flavius-though he knew it not-was "not
far from the kingdom of heaven."
So intense and earnest were the thoughts of
his heart, after the words of prayer had ceased
to fall upon his ear, that he hardly noticed the
movement of the party, until the sound of their
retreating footsteps aroused him from his med-
itations. As he arose from his knees, the out-
line of a human form was visible through the
gloom, and so sudden was the appearance, and
so rapid the movement by which it approached
him, that he recoiled in surprise, not unmingled
172
ROME.
with dread. His astonishment was increased
when the partial withdrawal of the veil from
the brow disclosed to him the features of a fe-
male singularly expressive, in the marble fore-
head, pale cheek, and burning eye.
"Thou seest her with whom thou hast often
spoken this day,” said the female, "for I have
been about thy footsteps and have brought
thee hither for a sacred purpose. I have sought
for thee in vain in the tombs; but God, I see,
hath led thee to behold that to which Dobella
would not conduct thee. Tribune, thou hast
seen the burial of a Christian."
"And have profited by the sight,” replied
Flavius with emotion-"Whoever thou art,
mysterious woman, thou mayst tell to thy
companions that Subrius Flavius seeks to know
more of that religion of which he hath by ac-
cident obtained these stolen glimpses."
"In me," replied the other, "you see nought
but the freed handmaid of the mother of Lu-
can."
66
Epicharis ?" replied the tribune incredu-
lously, and scanning the half concealed counte-
nance of the Greek with attention.
"Behold!" she replied, withdrawing the
veil, "time and tears perhaps have so changed
THE CATACOMBS.
173
me, that they who knew me in the days of my
folly, may scarce recall my features now. I
was Epicharis, I am what a power which I
cannot resist, hath made me."
"Art thou a Christian ?" asked the soldier,
as the scene in the grove recurred to his mem-
ory, "but I need not ask. Thou art she with
whom Dobella spake but now."
"I dare not call myself a Christian,” replied
Epicharis, "for I have not yet been brought, and
I dare not approach the holy waters of baptism.
But this boots not now; I am come to con-
duct thee to a scene which it is necessary that
thou shouldst behold, but to which thou
couldst not gain access without me.
and be silent."
Follow
So saying, she seized the lamp from the
place where the tribune had rested it, and led
the way with rapid but silent footsteps, through
the gloomy passages of the catacombs, in the
direction which the funeral party had taken.
While they are on their way, it is necessary
that our attention should be directed, for a few
moments, to a far different scene.
15*
CHAPTER V.
THE ROAD TO ANTIUM.
Somebody repeating in conversation,
Ἐμοῦ θανόντος γαῖα μιχθήτω πυρί
Wkovi Napels
When I am dead, let fire devour the world,
Let it be, said Nero, whilst I am living, tµov Cŵvros.
SUET. IN NERON., S. 38.
HE same chariot which had attracted the
het
THE
notice of the tribune and his party at the
Porta Triumphalis, ere the festivities had com-
menced at the lake of Agrippa, was rolling, at
midnight, with all the speed which the best
and freshest horses could impart to it, along
the Appian way, far beyond the tomb of Cæci-
lia Metella. Several outriders, whose utmost
exertions were hardly sufficient to keep pace
with the chariot, followed in its train; and,
far in the distance, two mounted grooms were
leading steeds richly caparisoned, as if for the
relief of those more immediately engaged in
the service.
The chariot was occupied by the Emperor,
Tigellinus, and Ibrim, the astrologer. In his
THE ROAD TO ANTIUM.
175
flushed cheek, scowling brow, and nervous
manner, Nero exhibited symptoms of some
great recent excitement, from whose influence
he had not yet recovered; while the air and
demeanor of the favorite courtier at his side
were perfectly easy and undisturbed. The
Chaldean leaned back in his seat, and was gaz-
ing abstractedly toward heaven, as if no earthly
vicissitude could interrupt his communion with
the stars.
"This is a most unlucky chance, venerable
soothsayer," exclaimed Nero suddenly, with a
sneer, which he took no pains to disguise: "if
the stars deceive us thus, I shall not know in
what to trust."
"Trust in your own heart, puissant Cæsar,"
replied the courtier, smiling with polite con-
tempt upon the astrologer, "for there are aus-
pices which will never deceive a man. Is it
not so, Ibrim ?"
"My lord hath said it," replied the latter, in
an humble tone, while the momentary kindling
in his serene, but brilliant eye, bespoke the
disdain of a spirit conscious of intellectual
power.
66
'But what sayest thou," demanded the Em-
peror, excited and yet awed by the cool dignity
176
ROME.
of the seer, "what sayest thou to the manifest.
falsehood of thy lying predictions ?"
66
Say on," rejoined Ibrim, in a meek but firm
tone, "for thy servant will bear. He is but
the minister of a higher power whom thy words
reach not."
"Tell me, then," again asked Nero, "why
thou hast dared to deceive me ?"
"Thine own idle fears have deceived thee,
Cæsar," he replied: "I predicted danger, and it
has come. I predicted success, and it is not
afar off. Another shadow hath crossed the
zenith of thy fortune, and it is the last."
"Dost hear, Tigellinus ?" said Nero, turning
to the courtier, who sat regarding the discus-
sion with the serene indifference of one to whom
all power, except that of human nature, is but
a fable of childhood, "my heart prompts me
to believe this man."
"Nay, thou mayst worship Astarte and all
her train, if thou wilt, my prince; but the
strong heart and the ready hand are my divin-
ities, and as such I pledge them to thy favora-
ble auspices."
"Thou art but a graceless scoffer," rejoined
the Emperor, "and I wonder not that thy
schemes have miscarried. Syphax was thine
*
THE ROAD TO ANTIUM.
177
agent, and the fool has yielded up his life with
the dangerous secret-"
"Which thine own lips and thine own hand
entrusted to his keeping, august Cæsar. The
business of the writing was no work of mine.
But it matters not now, my prince: the die
has been cast, spite of fate and the stars. We
have pushed our bark from the shore, and must
take wind and tide as they set."
"The horoscope presents a brilliant and
unclouded field," remarked the astrologer :
"henceforth the star of Nero is in the ascend--
ant."
"Brilliant enough, I warrant thee, sage
Ibrim," replied the courtier, with a laugh of
condescension; "but the glittering summit of
the capitol shall scarcely gleam, all this night,
from an unclouded field."
"Enough of this, Tigellinus," said Nero,
impatiently; "and now let us hear what thou
hast accomplished, for in the alarm produced
by the discovery of that caitiff's death, I have
been like one in a dream."
"Before thou breathest the air of Antium,
my prince, thine enemies will have ceased to
live, and the destruction of Rome itself shall
hide the deed from those who may be disposed
178
ROME.
to look seriously into the matter. My measures
are, I think, indifferently well laid—”
"And for thine own interest in the over-
throw."
66
'Nay, my prince," added the courtier, with
a meaning smile, " press me not too closely
upon that point. Enough that I have my own
ends to serve, and that they are distinct from
my master's. Enough, also, that I can fix the
death of Syphax upon the tribune, and that
the order has already gone forth for his arrest.
""
"Thou hast done well !" exclaimed Nero, as
the courtier concluded the full detail of his
arrangements, and then carelessly threw him-
self back in the chariot.
"I owe thee thanks for the commendation,
Cæsar, and the consciousness that it is as yet
but feebly deserved, will give me vigor and
celerity. But the hour has come for my de-
parture. From the heights of Antium thou
shalt soon see a sight which will be a world's
wonder-and thou mayst sing, as thou alone.
canst sing, the seige of Troy: Paris is already
in the toils and Helen-"
He tarried not to finish the sentence, but
after a brief but ceremonious adieu to the Em-
peror, arrested the arm of the charioteer, and
THE ROAD TO ANTIUM.
179
in a few moments stood alone upon the road,
awaiting the arrival of his own steed. Ere
another half hour had expired, he saw before
him the tomb of Cæcilia Metella, around which
a cohort of soldiers were closely gathered, with
muffled helmets and arms in trail.
CHAPTER VI.
BAPTISM.
See, she comes,
How sweet her innocence appears! more like
To heaven itself than any sacrifice
That can be offered to it. By my hopes
Of joy hereafter, the sight makes me doubtful
In my belief.
MASSINGER.
HE scene which burst upon the eye of the
THE
tribune, as his companion, with a signifi-
cant gesture, designed to intimate that he
ought to proceed no farther, glided from his
side, was sufficient in itself to arrest his foot-
steps. Through the slightly curved passage
which terminated in what appeared to be a
large central chamber of the catacomb, he dis-
cerned a numerous congregation of Christians
gathered together, as it seemed, for the celebra-
tion of some rite of yet greater solemnity than
that which he had just witnessed. In the cen-
tre of the chamber arose a tomb of unusual
A
BAPTISM.
181
dimensions, covered with drapery of white, upon
which stood a basin of silver in the midst of
freshly gathered flowers. Numerous lamps sus-
pended from the ceiling shed a brilliant light
on all within the scope of his vision, and a
profound silence reigned over the scene.
The same person who had officiated at the
recent ceremony, ere long arose from his place,
and advancing to the tomb, seemed to await
the movements of the auditory. Presently a
train of young females, clothed in white, were
seen issuing from among the crowd, and the
heart of Flavius beat high with surprise, and
a deeper emotion, as Julia Metella, with her
kinsman Dobella on the one hand, and Salome
on the other, knelt down before the font.
Then the attendant virgins closed around them,
kneeling also, followed by the rest, till the
whole congregation was bowed in silent prayer.
The voice of a deacon was then heard, an-
nouncing the commencement of the devotions:
"My brethren, let us pray."
The hands of the kneeling assembly were
upraised toward heaven, and they united to-
gether in prayer for the Christians, for the infi-
dels, for the feeble, the sick, the afflicted, for
all who mourn. The blessing of the Father,
16
182
ROME.
Son, and Holy Ghost was invoked upon the
candidate, and the pure and sparkling element
solemnly consecrated to the mystical washing
away of sin. When this was over, the assem-
bly rose and stood upon their feet, and the
presbyter addressed the maiden :
"Who art thou ?"
"I am Julia, the daughter of Metellus," she
replied in a voice trembling with emotion,
every tone of which went to the heart of the
tribune.
"What dost thou wish, daughter of Metel-
lus ?" again asked the presbyter.
"To issue," was the reply, "from the dark-
ness of idolatry into the light and liberty of the
disciples of Christ ?"
"Dost thou believe," he continued, "that
Jesus Christ is the Son of God ?"
"I do," was the low, but firm response of the
candidate.
"Wilt thou be baptized in this faith ?”
"That is my desire."
"Hast thou weighed well thy resolution,"
said the presbyter, "art thou willing, if Christ
should call thee to the sacrifice, to leave all
and follow Him-canst thou suffer with Him
that thou mayst reign with him?
BAPTISM.
183
"I can," responded the trembling voice of
the maiden, "the Lord being my helper."
66
Grant, O Lord," said the presbyter, while
at the conclusion of each petition the fervent
'amen' rose from the lips of the kneeling as-
sembly, "to this person, that the old Adam
may be so buried in her, that the new man may
live and grow in her.
"Grant that she may have power to with-
stand the world, the flesh and the devil, and to
continue Christ's faithful soldier and servant to
her life's end.
"Grant, O Lord, that she may have grace
so to confess thee before men, that thou wilt
confess her in the presence of the Father, and
of the holy angels.
"Name this person," continued the presby-
ter to Dobella.
The soldier advanced and whispered in his
ear, after which the candidate knelt down, and .
while he poured the water upon her brow, he
said aloud:
"Julia, I baptize thee in the name of the
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen."
The prayers and thanksgivings for the new
disciple succeeded. The words of the beauti-
184
ROME.
4....^
ful baptismal hymn rolled through the dim
arches and reverberating alleys of the cata-
combs, and the congregation, the office for
which they had assembled being over, arose to
receive the parting benediction.
The first impulse of Flavius was to burs
from his concealment, and to become a parta-
ker in the ceremony by which the maiden was
to become a disciple of the Christian faith.
But the solemnity of the scene restrained him,
and as the simple, but powerfully impressive
service proceeded, the awe deepened upon his
spirit, and his heart sank under the first con-
victions of sin and unworthiness. There had
been no symbol presented to the outward sense
—but a higher than human power had opened
his understanding, and the glorious doctrine of
pardon, of hope, of sanctification through the
obedience and death of a Divine Redeemer,
arose as the day-star upon the darkness through
which he was passing. The words of the ben-
ediction were yet upon the lips of the presby-
ter, when, constrained by a feeling which he
could resist no longer, he rushed to the side of
Dobella-who started up in amazement-and
clinging to the drapery of the tomb he cried,
in a voice broken by contrition:
BAPTISM.
185
"Men and brethren, what must I do to be
saved ?"
Amidst the murmur of surprise and expec-
tation which followed this sudden interruption,
while Dobella and the presbyter advanced to
raise the soldier, scarcely knowing what they
did, a voice, earnest, thrilling, tremulous with
emotion, proceeded from the shadows of the
arches, pronouncing the words:
"Repent and be baptized for the remission
of sins, and thou shalt receive the gift of the
Holy Ghost."
"Wecome, my brother," exclaimed Dobella,
throwing himself upon the prostrate form of
the tribune, while the grateful tears flowed un-
heeded down his cheeks, bronzed under the sun
of the east, and scarred in many a battle-field:
"Welcome, my brother, to the soldiery of the
cross. We have fought together under the ban-
ners of an earthly prince-together will we
serve the Great Captain of our salvation !"
A deadly paleness overspread the features of
Julia Metella, as she first became conscious of
the presence of the tribune. Amidst the so-
lemnity and pure self-devotion of that momen-
tous hour, it seemed as if God had already
answered one of her first and most fervent
16*
186
ROME.
prayers. She had offered herself to heaven in
view of the most painful of sacrifices; the sac-
rifice of the love of one whose image, by every
manly virtue, by every trait of human noble-
ness, by the frankness and tenderness of an un-
corrupted spirit, had been impressed indelibly
upon her pure and affectionate heart. That
the effort had been most trying, and the strug-
gle most severe, may be easily conceived. But
what were her emotions when she thus saw him
she loved, brought by the power of God in
penitence and tears to the foot of that very
altar, where the dedication of her own heart
had been made? The recoil of feeling was too
much for her strength. With a cry, in which
the accents of joy, and doubt, and hope, were
all blended, she called upon the name of her
lover, and then bursting into tears, sank almost
insensible into the arms of Salome.
"Who art thou ?" demanded the presbyter,
much moved by the scene which had so singu-
larly succeeded to the quiet and rapt devotion
of the baptismal ceremony.
(6
Behold," said Dobella, grasping the hand
of the tribune as they rose together, "Subrius
Flavius seeks the fold of the Redeemer."
"Not many noble, not many wise, not many
BAPTISM.
187
mighty, are called," responded the presbyter
solemnly. "Art thou able, tribune, to drink
of the cup of which Christ drank, and to be
baptized with the baptism that He was baptized
with ?"
"I have looked upon your assemblies, holy
man,” replied the tribune; "I have heard your
words, and I am brought by a power which I
cannot resist, to the feet of Him whom I once
thoughtlessly despised and reviled. Do with
me what thou wilt; I believe that Jesus Christ
is God the Son of the one only living and
true God, who came to redeem the world."
"Reject him not," was heard in the same
impassioned and thrilling tones which had be-
fore startled the assembly from the arches;
"reject him not, he is a chosen vessel to bear
the name of Jesus before kings, and to witness
a good confession with the people of God.
Holy Linus, reject him not !"
"Reject him not, man of God," added Do-
bella, "he is my brother in arms, he is the
friend of my soul."
"Reject him not," said Salome, looking up
from the pale, passionless features of her mis-
tress, with an appealing look to the presbyter,
"for God hath brought these two together.
188
ROME.
They were lovely in their lives, and in death
they shall not be divided.
KE
The glorious crown which Julia Metella
shall win," she added, as a sweet smile spread
itself, like the first blush of sunrise, over the
countenance of Julia, while her lips murmured
indistinguishable words, "is reserved also for
Subrius Flavius."
The presbyter lifted up his eyes to heaven,
and for a moment was lost in thought. Then,
as his glance fell upon the scene before him, he
bowed his head and said:
"My brethren, let us pray. There is joy in
the presence of the angels of God for one sin-
ner that repenteth, and God will reveal His
arm to His servants in the times of refreshing
from His presence."
CHAPTER VII.
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE.
But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach
Attend the signal of your imposition,
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof.
KING RICHARD III.
HE prayer of the presbyter was interrupted
THE
by a voice which caused the assembly to
start up in dismay. At one entrance of the
chamber was seen the figure of a man, whose
emaciated features, thin white locks, and long
beard of silvery whiteness, were almost suffi-
cient to warrant the apprehension of an appa-
rition from the dead, or of a prophet, inspired
by heaven, to visit again, for some mysterious
purpose, the world he had left. There was a
strange depth and hollowness in the tones of
his voice, as his brief and hurried sentences.
rolled through the gloomy vaults.
“Arise, children of the day, arise! The arm
of the Lord is revealed !”
C
•
ROME.
190
"It is Selumiel," said a voice from the
alarmed congregation, "it is the dweller among
the tombs.'
""
"What calls thee here, my father ?" asked
the presbyter, for the words and gestures of the
sudden visitant denoted extraordinary excite-
ment, "why hast thou interrupted the words
of prayer ?"
"What calls me here ?" he repeated, advan-
cing toward the altar, "it is because the day
cometh. The great city of pride, of idolatry,
of bloodshed, is already blazing without like a
fiery furnace."
"Heaven forbid !" exclaimed Dobella, "then
has the tyrant anticipated his work."
"Ye cannot save him now, and Rome is
doomed of heaven," cried Epicharis, rushing
from the concealment, into the midst of the as-
sembly. "Away, Dobella! away, tribune!
and place the maiden in the chariot of Metel-
lus while yet ye may. Nero has, indeed, an-
ticipated his work, for the death of Syphax
was soon discovered, and he dared not wait the
morrow."
"Blow ye the trumpet in Zion," exclaimed
Selumiel, tossing his arms aloft, while his se-
pulchral tones echoed fearfully, "the Lord will
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 191
deliver His people, and the year of his redeem-
ed is come."
"Peace, holy father," said the presbyter sol-
emnly; "peace, till the words of blessing are
pronounced, for we ought not to go forth into
the danger without the armor of God. Go.
then, my brethren," he added, raising his hands.
on high in the attitude of benediction, "and
the blessing of the Lord of Hosts go with you."
"It is too late," shrieked Epicharis, "for
the agents of the tyrant are upon us.
Great
God! this is what I feared."
"The company of the spearmen," exclaimed
the aged Christian, as he flung himself pros-
trate behind the tomb, "and of the hosts gath-
ered for the battle. But the Lord of Hosts is
with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge."
"Seize and bind the impious traitors," shout-
ed Tigellinus, who advanced rapidly with a
body of his German soldiers in the chamber.
At the first rapid glance at this confirmation
of his worst fears, the tribune sprang to the
side of the yet scarcely conscious Julia, and
grasped his weapon for the strife. The danger
of their position opened upon him with dread-
ful distinctness, as he saw band after band
filling up one passage after another, until the
2
192
ROME.
....
unarmed assembly of the Christians seemed
almost surrounded by a dense body of living
men. The instruments which Tigellinus had
selected for his work also, he saw to be those.
over whom his own military authority could
exercise no control. Foreigners, and hostile by
habit and natural jealousy, to the Prætorian
troops, the German legions were the most ready
and unscrupulous executors of the bloodiest
resolves. A single glance exchanged with Do-
bella told him the spirit of that brave man was
already sinking in despair of the issue.
"Seize and bind the traitors, and leave the
maiden to me," again exclaimed Tigellinus. In
an instant the spacious chamber was a scene of
the wildest confusion. A score of armed men
rushed simultaneously from the cover of the
arches into the midst of the throng, and as
form after form fell prostrate upon the floor of
the tomb, the shrieks of the females and the
groans of the wounded arose on every side.
"Resist not, my brethren," exclaimed Linus,
the presbyter, as he cast himself upon the fur-
niture of the altar, as if to guard the sacred
utensils from pollution, "resist not, for this is
the hour and power of darkness."
In fact there seemed to be no effort or show
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 193
at resistance on the part of the Christians,
except in that spot where Dobella and the tri-
bune stood before the Roman maiden, support-
ed on one side by Salome and by Epicharis on
the other.
"Noble Dobella !" exclaimed Tigellinus,
scoffingly, as he paused for a moment before
the calm front thus presented to impede his
progress, "when didst thou ally thyself with
these miscreants? and you, tribune, give way
if you would not share the fate of Syphax,
whose ignoble blood stains your hand."
A gleam of defiance and virtuous contempt
shot across the features of the tribune, but he
replied not.
•
"Hear me, Tigellinus," said Dobella, “you
judge truly that I am a Christian, and as a
Christian I would avoid the blood of every
man. But your way to this defenceless maid-
en, whom the laws of God and man bind me
to protect, will be over my corse."
"Bold words for one unarmed," retorted the
courtier with a sneer, "seize him, soldiers, and
let him spend his impotent rage elsewhere.'
""
"Are ye men,” exclaimed Epicharis to those
behind, "are ye Christians, and will ye look
upon this? Man of God," she added, appeal-
17
194
ROME.
ing to the presbyter, who was himself strug-
gling within the grasp of a soldier, "surely it
is lawful to resist such deep iniquity as that
which is now meditated."
"Defend the maiden, if need be,” replied the
presbyter, "but avoid blood; for he that lifts
the sword shall perish by the sword."
His remaining words were drowned in the tu-
mult which now took place. Dobella having
availed himself of the confusion of the onset
to wrest a spear from the hands of one of those
who advanced upon him, was contending almost
single-handed with the throng. Flavius sprang
forward, and before the courtier was aware of
his purpose, struck the uplifted sword from his
hand, and grappled with his antagonist. The
space around the females was thus for the mo-
ment cleared; but the Christians, incited by
Epicharis, speedily advanced and formed a
close circle around them. Beyond this circle
the strife was for a few moments doubtful.
The advantage which the tribune had gained
over his adversary seemed about to terminate
in the fall of the latter, when suddenly a blow
from the hand of one of the soldiers descended
upon the head of Flavius. Reeling beneath
the stroke, he vainly sought to recover his
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 195
grasp. Tigellinus rushed upon him and bore.
him to the floor, at the instant when Dobella,
exhausted by his protracted exertion and over-
powered by numbers, was unable to render him
assistance. With an expression in which ha-
tred and scorn were strangely mingled, the
courtier bent over his fallen foe, and the dag-
ger was about to descend, when his hand was
arrested by the form of Julia, who had burst
from the circle of the Christians, and cast her-
self between Tigellinus and his victim.
"If I am the victim you seek," she said,
wildly attempting to release the grasp of the
courtier upon the tunic of the tribune, "strike,
but spare the life of the soldier.”
"Away! maiden," replied the other, endeav-
oring, but not roughly, to force her from her
position, while a smile of triumph shot over
his features,
"no lover's tears can save him
now."
66
Strike, then," exclaimed Julia, shrinking
from his touch and kneeling beside the tribune,
while her veil, disengaged in the struggle,
almost concealed her features as she bowed her
head, "the dagger which reaches his heart,
must first pass through mine."
"I war not with such as thou," replied the
196
ROME.
courtier, exasperated by the disgust which he
read in her countenance, "away! maiden, or
my dagger shall do its work on the instant."
The countenance of Julia was upraised, but
he saw in it nothing but beautiful and heroic
determination. The features, it is true, were
paler than the marble: there was no flush upon
the cheek, and the brow was clear and calm, as
if fear and every other passion had been ab-
solved by the devotedness of the woman's
heart within. The glance which met his was
serene, but unflinching, and strange to say,
there was almost a smile upon the parted lips.
For a moment the eye of Tigellinus rested
upon the lovely vision, and he stood irresolute.
Then, as if actuated by a better feeling, he
cried to those around:
"Remove the maiden."
Before the order could be executed, the trib-
une, recovering from the effect of the blow,
shook off his grasp with a single effort, and
springing to his feet, suddenly placed Julia
in the arms of Salome, and again grappled his
adversary. For a few seconds the wild and
general uproar was renewed, until a cry from
Tigellinus seemed to announce that the issue
of the strife was turning. The latter glared
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 197
wildly around him, as if seeking some other
foe, then his eye closed and his forehead writh-
ed with pain, and he sank to the earth. At
this instant the lights that hung above the
altar were suddenly extinguished, and a voice
whispered in the ear of the tribune :
"Seize the maiden and follow me-it is your
only hope regard nothing, pause for nothing.
It is Salome that speaks."
A single lamp, burning feebly at the entrance
of one of the passages, scarcely served to en-
lighten the chamber sufficiently to enable the
tribune, as he prepared to obey the whispered
intimation, to discern the true situation of
things around him. The thought of the tomb
of Cæcilia Metella flashed upon his mind, as
affording a refuge, at least, if not the means of
escape. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of
the features of Salome bending anxiously for a
moment over the inclined head of her mistress,
and he caught words of the same import, ad-
dressed to her, as those which had been already
whispered in his own ear.
"Take the arm of my mistress and follow,"
again said Salome, in a low voice. She led the
way in the direction of the passage, by which
Flavius had issued.
17*
198
ROME.
"Fear not for me, Flavius," said Julia, as he
hurriedly inquired, more by looks than words,
whether the maiden was able to obey the inti-
mation, "as long as I feel the support of your
arm, I am strong. Hasten!"
"But Dobella," said the tribune, looking in
vain amidst the confusion to discern the form
of his friend.
"He is here," said a voice near him, “has-
ten, my friend; if the way of escape offers not
to me, it matters little.”
The tribune hesitated no longer, but draw-
ing the arm of Julia within his own, he fol-
lowed in the direction which Salome had taken,
and succeeded without difficulty, amidst the
general confusion, in reaching the passage which
led to the tombs.
Deprived of their leader, who had fallen by
a blow from an unknown hand in the very mo-
ment of success, the soldiery no longer acted in
concert, and ignorant of the place, only con-
tributed to embarrass each other in the gloom,
while the body of the Christians, unarmed and
many of them bound, remained uninjured. The
strife in which Dobella had been engaged seem-
ed also to have ceased; but whether by his fall
or his capture was uncertain. It was not long,
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 199
however, before this state of things was termi-
nated, by an interruption equally sudden and
terrific. A low rumbling sound, as if proceed-
ing from the earth beneath their feet, was heard
distinctly by every ear, for a time, and this was
succeeded by a deathlike silence, during which
it seemed that the very pulses of those assem-
bled were arrested by apprehension. Then the
same sounds recurred, but louder, deeper, more
awful than before-and the ground seemed
trembling underneath them. The Christians,
as if by one impulse common to them all,
threw themselves upon their knees for prayer.
The arms dropt from the hands of the soldiers,
and here and there a stalwart form, bowed by
the sudden terror, sank to the earth, while
many of those who kept their feet clung to
each other for support. To the wild imagina-
tion of the German recruits, sounds so appal-
ling amidst the mystery and gloom of the scene,
were naturally interpreted as the dreadful pre-
monitions of a destruction about to overwhelm
them for their unhallowed intrusion into the
courts of death. And while every eye was bent
in intense anxiety upon the altar, the outlines
of which were faintly visible in the uncertain
light of the single lamp that hung at the en-
200
POME.
trance of the corridor over against it, the form
of Selumiel arose slowly from the place where
he had cast himself, and mounting upon the
projecting base of the sarcophagus, seemed
towering in gigantic height to the very brow of
the ample arch above. The ghastly features,
the thin and scattered locks, the beard descend-
ing upon the tunic, and the loosened tunic
itself displaying the shrivelled limbs of age and
mortification, all seemed to belong to one over
whom the last dread change of mortality had
passed.
"Depart, men of sin," he cried, "for destruc-
tion cometh as a whirlwind, and the displeasure
of the Lord is revealed in the earthquake and
the fire. Depart, for ere long the dead around
you may awake to vengeance."
"Peace, old babbler!" cried Tigellinus, who
had now partially recovered from the effects of
his wound, and furious at the loss of his vic-
tims, sprang upon his feet, "and ye, soldiers
of Nero, secure your captives."
•
"Again I say, depart," echoed the hollow
tones of Selumiel, "depart while yet the judg-
ment lingereth-depart while yet ye may."
The soldiery moved not, but stood awe-
struck and in silence, gazing upon the wild fig-
THE STRIFE AND THE WARNING VOICE. 201
ure before them. Again, as if in answer to his
mysterious warning, the same appalling sounds
were heard, and the earth heaved anew with
convulsive throes.
"Do ye not hear it-do ye not feel it ?”
again cried Selumiel, raising his shrivelled arms
to heaven, while his eye burned with strange
fire.
"Then die, fool, in thy madness !" exclaimed
Tigellinus, rushing forward to the place where
the aged Christian stood, with his naked sword
in his hand. Quick as light a female form
sprang from the group, and intercepted his pro-
gress. In the gloom, the gleam of steel was
discerned for a moment; in the next, the form
of the courtier fell heavily to the earth.
"Once-twice, have I smitten thee," was
heard in the thrilling, impassioned tones of
Epicharis, "but thine hour is not yet come."
Before the soldiers could form the purpose of
seizing her person, she darted to the opposite
side of the vault and disappeared by the corri-
dor which the tribune had taken.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
What is your purpose?
Speak, for the darkness gathers. Is your name
Pledged to our enterprise?
FORD.
THE discovery of the death of Syphax and
the disappearance of the scroll which the
Emperor had entrusted to his keeping, induced
the latter to anticipate the atrocious act of
firing the city, which was originally intended
to have taken place some days after the revel
on the lake of Agrippa. The miscreant who
fell under the dagger of Sulpicius Asper, had
closely watched the proceedings of the tribune
and his friends during the day, and from certain
whispered intimations which he had overheard,
while watching at the Triumphal gate, had
discovered the fact that the daughter of Metel-
lus was to participate in the solemnities of the
Christians at midnight, in the catacombs. These
intimations, hurriedly communicated to Tigelli-
1
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
203
nus, induced the courtier to venture himself into
an enterprise which promised not only to place
some of his most dreaded enemies in his power,
but also to bring the Roman maiden within his
grasp. Having, therefore, ordered a band of
the German soldiers to be in readiness at the
commencement of the Appian Way, the pre-
mature discovery of the design of the Emperor,
offered itself as an auspicious circumstance di-
rectly tending to further his own views. The
concluding acts of the pageant were hurried
over, and long ere the lingering body of the
populace had left the scene, Nero and his favor-
ite were far on their way towards Antium.
The management of the conflagration was en-
trusted to the slaves of the imperial household
under the direction of Anicetus, whose bold
and prompt villainy on many a former occasion
had fixed the confidence of the Emperor. The
destruction of Metellus, the capture of his
daughter, and the ruin of the cause of the
Christians, who were to be charged with the
crime of setting fire to the city, were proposed
by Tigellinus, and eagerly embraced by Nero,
as the objects to be secured by the immediate
execution of their diabolical purposes. The
plot thus modified was matured with extraor-
204
ROME.
dinary celerity; for midnight had scarcely ar-
rived ere the emissaries of the tyrant had dis-
persed to their several stations, in readiness to
begin the work of destruction.
The palace of Julius Metellus stood upon the
commencement of the ascent of the Capitoline
hill, with the broad and splendid arch-way of
the Palatine Bridge on the one hand, and the
Forum and Circus Maximus on the other. On
the balcony overlooking the Tiber and the wide
expanse of the Campus Martius, on the north
and west, the patrician was engaged in confer-
ence with Piso, who, with himself, had sought
an early escape from the disgraceful revelries of
the night. By his own consent, his daughter
had sought the private assembly of the Chris-
tians under the charge of Varus Dobella. The
zeal with which his noble kinsman, who had
won his profound esteem for high intelligence,
bravery and virtue, had embraced the religion
of the Christians, and his love for Julia, who
seemed to find sources of happiness in the new
faith which he knew were not to be met else-
where, had disposed him to regard with favor
the proposed initiation of his daughter, by the
sacrament of baptism, into a religious com-
munity of which his general impressions, not-
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
205
withstanding the popular prejudices, were alto-
gether favorable. His own mind, absorbed in
the cares of his station, and the distractions of
the time, had hitherto been closed against the
arguments of Dobella, and the occasional affec-
tionate appeals of his daughter. Like Gallio,
he "cared for none of these things." Yet
while he wondered at, and almost pitied, the
strange enthusiasm by which the disciples of
the new system seemed to be actuated; he
neither felt nor manifested hostility to its pro-
gress in his own household. Tenderly anxious
as he was for the safety of his daughter, the
time and the occasion pesented a favorable op-
portunity for the visit to the private assembly.
Utterly ignorant of the designs of the Emper-
or, or the still deeper atrocity meditated by
Tigellinus, the almost complete desertion of the
city by the populace, left the public ways se-
cure from interruption, a state of things which
usually continued, on similar occasions of pub-
lic riot, far into the morning.
The conversation of Metellus and Piso had
been for a time so absorbing in its nature, that
neither had noticed the unusually early return
of the citizens from the lake of Agrippa. The
noise of carriages upon the bridges and roads
206
ROME.
beneath them, and the frequently recurring
glare of torches, at length arrested their atten-
tion. Piso was the first to break the brief
silence into which both had fallen, after the
discussion of those matters, by which the am-
bitious and eloquent patrician sought to induce
Metellus to join the conspiracy against the
Emperor; which, though almost as yet in its
infancy, had already enlisted in its favor many
of the first citizens of Rome.
"You will weigh the matter well, I am as-
sured, Metellus," he said, while an anxious look
crossed his fine features, "for the enterprise is
one which ought to command whatever of vir-
tue or nobleness is left in Rome. But how is
this? the revellers seem to be returning from
the Campus."
"It is so,” replied Metellus, rising from the
couch and advancing to the railing of the bal-
cony.
66
Something unusual has happened to dis-
perse them," added Piso, as he took his station
by the side of the other: "did I not know the
cautious temper of our friends, I might almost
fear that a premature attempt had been made
in our enterprise."
The features of Metellus were darkened by
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
207
anxiety, for he thought of the danger to which
his child would be exposed in the event of any
sudden excitement of the populace in the
streets. Then the disgraceful practices of the
Emperor and his atrocious band, of the Augus-
tan Society, recurred to his mind, with the cer-
tainty that insult and danger always followed
in their train. Agitated by these apprehen-
sions, he turned hastily, without replying to the
observations of his companion, and, for a mo-
ment, paced the floor of the balcony with hur-
ried steps. Then he paused again at the side
of Piso, while his eye sought to pierce the dim-
ness which hung over the southeastern suburbs.
of the city. The quarter of the Palatine hill
was yet enveloped in silence and gloom, and
beyond this the streets seemed as yet entirely
deserted as far as the Nævian gate. It was not
long, however, before his eye rested upon a
dense, dark mass, occupying the Appian Way,
at some distance from the gate-which, at his
first glance, he had but slightly noticed, mis-
taking it for one of the groves encircling the
public fountains at intervals, along all the
roads. A few moments of more attentive scru-
tiny sufficed to convince him that this mass was
in motion towards the quarter of the catacombs.
208
ROME.
"You are troubled, my friend," said Piso, in
some surprise at these hasty and agitated
movements, in one whose general calmness of
manner served to render them the more observ-
able.
"Seest thou yon dark shadow upon the Ap-
pian Way ?" inquired the patrician; "unless
my eyes have deceived me, there is a body of
men in motion."
"You are right," replied Piso, looking at-
tentively in the direction indicated; "I ob-
serve, moreover, that they are under discipline.
Surely that is an unusual direction for a party
of guards to take at this hour. I fear me some
mischief is afoot."
"Of that we may entertain little doubt,"
replied Metellus, "and I have special reasons.
for anxiety as to any mischief in that quarter.
My daughter is abroad, and may even now be
returning."
"Nay, then," replied Piso, "I can well enter
into a father's feelings for one so beautiful and
gentle. But she is surely not alone ?"
"Dobella is with her, and her favorite slave.
But even his arm might avail little against the
drunken fury of the Augustan band, supported
by the unscrupulous German soldiery."
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
209
So saying, the patrician advanced to the door
which connected the balcony with the interior
of the palace, and in answer to his summons,
his confidential freedman appeared.
"How many men have remained at home,
Patrocles ?” he inquired anxiously.
"There are nearly a score of them below,
my lord."
"Haste, then, and let them take their arms.
speedily, with such prudent concealment of the
weapons as the state of the streets demands.
Seest thou the body of men upon the road
yonder ?"
"I see them, my lord," replied Patrocles,
after a moment's observation, "they are soldiers
of the German legion."
“Lead thy band, then, in their train as
quickly as thou canst. Wilt thou engage to
overtake them ere they reach the Via Latina ?"
"Readily, I think, my lord," answered the
freedman, "and the service ?"
"It is to defend my daughter, if necessary.
Hasten-be cautious, but speed ye. Let my
best steeds be ready in the court, in case I
should need them."
The freedman made his obeisance and with-
drew. Ere long the patrician observed the
18*
210
ROME.
band which he led moving along the outer
pavement of the circus, in swift but silent ad-
vance, until it was lost in the shadow of the
intervening building.
The two stood for a time in silence, for their
attention was occupied by the increasing throng
and confusion beneath them. Band after band
of citizens hurried through the streets in every
direction, and the shouts of the excited popu-
lace became frequent. The illumination at the
lake of Agrippa was extinguished, leaving the
returning multitude in the shadow of the
groves and public edifices, except where the
rolling mass was here and there visible again in
the moonlight.
66
Who, of all yon idle throng," observed
Piso at length, "but feels the galling yoke of
tyranny under which the empire groans?
Who is there, above the slave and the veriest
- drudge, who feels not that his honor, his life,
the safety of his property and family are all at
the caprice of the tyrant and his rapacious
courtiers? Believe me, Metellus, the people.
of Rome are ready for the deed of which we
have spoken. They only await the action of
the powerful and the noble, to hurl the degene-
rate Cæsar to the destruction which he has
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
211
merited by a thousand crimes unheard of among
men."
"Were it not," replied Metellus, with energy,
grasping the hand of the conspirator, "were it
not for the bloodshed, the anarchy, the crime,
which I fear as the result of such a step, this
hand of mine would be the first to strike the
blow, and this heart to account it the noblest
action of my life."
"Believe it not," said Piso, rising to the full
height of his commanding figure, and raising
his arm to heaven; "if there is a power above
us, which I have not yet dared to doubt, that
power will preserve us from the wreck which
sometimes overwhelms the enterprises of impi-
ous and ambitious men. For thee, Metellus, I
would open a path to that eminence which thy
long-tried public virtue and wisdom fit thee,
of all men, to occupy."
"No more," answered Metellus, while a flush
crimsoned his cheek and brow, "no more, Piso ;
if the love of Rome cannot win me, think not
that I would listen to motives like these. May
my heart be palsied ere it entertain a thought
like this."
"I did but speak from a full heart, my
friend," said Piso, in an anxious and apologetic
212
ROME.
tone, conscious that he had gone too far, "but
yet you will act with us, and our cause will be
hallowed by the nobler dedication of virtue and
disinterested patriotism. If the hearts of many
turn to thee in vain as our best hope and stay
in the crisis to which we look forward, we trust
the gods will raise up some other, when the
time demands. But lo !" he added, as he turn-
ed his gaze in the direction of the circus, "what
is the meaning of this ?”
Scarcely had he spoken, before the whole
front of the circus exposed to their view, was
suddenly, and as if by magic, enveloped in
dense smoke, through which, at different points,
shot the quick wreaths of flame. These speed-
ily enlarged until the entire wood-work of the
shops adjoining, together with the combustible
materials which they contained, were lit up by
the devouring element. Many forms were hur-
rying to and fro through the porticos, among
whom might be discerned here and there the
person of a torch-bearer, darting along the open
passages and disappearing into the vast interior
of the building. Shouts and cries, mingled in
wild confusion, soon began to indicate the fear
and excitement of the populace, whose onward
progress was thus suddenly checked, and dis-
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
213
tinct and loud above them all, arose, at times,
the tones of strong voices, sounding and spread-
ing the alarm. The progress of the flames ap-
peared strangely rapid, for the blazing shops
yet stood entire, and not a beam had fallen,
when spiral wreaths of fire shot up towards the
sky, at intervals above the upper wall, as if a
dozen beacon lights had been enkindled at once.
along its extensive circumference. Through
the openings of the Mæniana, or balconies over-
looking the forum, the patricians discovered
that the interior of the circus was strongly
illuminated, and ere long, a loud crash, follow-
ed by another and then another in quick suc-
cession, indicated that the conflagration had
originally commenced within, and that the
magnificent galleries of wood attached to the
upper stories, had first yielded to the flames.
Nor were these the only indications of the seri-
ous nature and extent of the mischief. Borne
onward by the wind which had been gathering
for the last hour in the western quarter, the
subtle element soon reached the roofs and bal-
conies of the adjoining houses, and swept with
dreadful rapidity between the Palatine and
Aventine hills, until the temple of Apollo upon
the former, and that of Diana crowning the
214
ROME.
latter, seemed rising up upon the burning shores
of a sea of fire.
Metellus, who had at first beheld with amaze-
ment the sudden commencement of the disas-
ter which now threatened to involve his own
palace, if not the best part of the city in des-
truction, sprang towards the door of the bal-
cony, while the fall of the galleries in the cir
cus was yet sounding in his ear.
"My child, my child !" he exclaimed, as the
danger in all its extent, flashed upon his mind.
His steps were stayed by the appearance of a
man in the full bright armor of the Prætorian
guards, followed by another habited in a tunic
of dark cloth. In the hurry of the moment he
failed to recognize the person of the former,
until the well-known and stirring tones of the
Prætorian prefect were heard:
"Fly, my Lord," exclaimed Burrhus, greatly
agitated, as he grasped his hand, and exchanged
a glance of recognition with Piso. "If you
would preserve your own life-if you would
save your daughter, fly. Your steeds are al-
ready harnessed in the court, and my own troop
are ready to go with you-to the tombs, to the
tombs. And you, Piso, if you would aid in
the defeat of a hellish plot, follow-ask no
THE BALCONY OF METELLUS.
215
questions, for you shall know all on the way.
Down, Agerinus, lead the way to the court."
The freedman of Agrippina, for such was the
attendant of Burrhus, passed quickly into the
palace, followed by the rest of the group, and
ere long they all issued, well mounted, from the
great gate of the Portico.
"The way is yet clear at the base of the
Aventine hill," said Burrhus quickly to Ageri-
nus, "forward, for your life!"
CHAPTER IX.
THE BURNING CITY.
The streets are bright
With splendors not their own, and shine with light.
New clamors and new clangors now arise,
The sound of trumpets mixed with frighting cries.
ANEID, BOOK II.
THE party of the patrician had seized the
partent when
last moment when their escape from the
burning heat of the city could be effected with
safety. Heavy and black columns of smoke,
borne onward by the wind, which was increas-
ing in violence with every moment, continually
swept across their path. The flames revealing
themselves at intervals, from the bosom of
these suffocating clouds, seemed almost endow-
ed with instinct, in seizing with equal celerity
and certainty upon every roof and pinnacle
that offered anything of unconsumed material.
The frequent crash of massive towers was heard.
amidst the melancholy wail of the wind, and
the agonized shrieks of the affrighted citizens.
THE BURNING CITY.
217
Here and there a company of women, with
their little ones closely clasped to the breast,
rushed wildly in the direction of the Tiber,
followed by groups of terror-stricken boys and
citizens, bearing the few valuable articles which
they were enabled to lay hold of in the univers-
al confusion. The heart of Metellus more than
once was thrilled with apprehension, as the
wild reckless curse, the brutal laugh of passion,
mingled with the shrill, despairing shriek,
testified that rapine and violence were added
to the other horrors of the night.
Well nigh blinded by the smoke and dust,
they urged their horses forward through the
crowded and littered streets, until sweeping
round the southern extremity of the Aventine
hill, they arrived at a quarter where the fire.
raged less fiercely. Yet even here the turrets
and porticos were wreathed with flame, and it
was fearful to behold the hollow and despairing
looks with which the assembled populace
watched the opportunity to escape from their
unsafe position.
"Save my child, noble Metellus," cried a fe-
male, pressing forward to meet the patrician as
he advanced, regardless of everything but the
one dear object of his solicitude, "save my child."
17
218
ROME.
"Stand back, woman," replied Agerinus,
madly urging forward his exhausted steed.
"Save my child!" she repeated, casting her
infant within the very arms of Metellus, "and
the gods prosper you as you show compassion
to a distracted woman."
The patrician seized the infant, for there was
that in his heart which forbade him to resist
the appeal, and enveloping it hastily within the
folds of his toga, dashed through the crowd.
At that moment the fall of the balcony beneath
which the brief delay had occurred, hid all be-
hind them in horror and confusion.
"Forward!" shouted Burrhus, "one mo-
ment more, and the ruins of the tottering fane
of Evander will obstruct our path. Forward!
if we can but regain the Appian Way we shall
be in safety."
It was, indeed, a desperate effort, but the
noble steeds, blinded with the dreadful atmos-
phere, and scorched and bleeding, proved true
to their race and culture. Onward through
the mad and furious crowd-onward over the
heated stones and the blackened rafters-on-
ward through the stream of fiery dust which
rolled torrent-like from the hills, through the
demolished doors of the temples, the shattered
THE BURNING CITY.
219
porticos, and the openings of every street, they
urged their way until they gained the broad
level of the Appian road, and were soon swal-
lowed up in the immense crowd of horsemen,
carriages, and foot-passengers with which it
was thronged.
Here, however, a new obstruction seemed to
be cast in their path. The confused sounds of
voices, of rolling carriages, of trampling steeds
and clashing arms promiscuously mingled, sub-
sided for a moment as the strong blast of a
trumpet, blown by the lips of a horseman who
had ascended for the purpose the broad plat-
form at the base of one of the public fountains,
rolled on the ears of the crowd. Then a voice
was heard proclaiming―
"Back, citizens of Rome! back to the Tiber
and the Campus Martius. The most sacred
Emperor has thrown open to you the palace of
Agrippa, the field of Mars, and even his own
gardens. Back, while ye may, for the Nævian
gate is closed.”
"Forward!" shouted Burrhus with a cry of
generous disdain, as beneath the strong red
light he exchanged a meaning look with Piso.
"If the Nævian gate is closed, there is strength
in Rome to-night to open it-forward !" The
220
ROME.
crowd instantly replied in a voice which rent
the heavens,
"Burrhus leads us on-we will follow Burr-
hus."
66
Then thus perish every traitor," replied the
trumpeter, as with a sudden movement he
hurled his javelin at the towering form of the
prefect. Metellus had not time to gain the
side of his friend, before another weapon of the
same kind pierced his own garment, inflicting
as it passed off, a slight wound in his breast.
The frame of the prefect bent upon the sad-
dle, but still he urged his horse onward, shout-
ing, in a voice enfeebled by pain—“ forward !”
The javelin had scarcely left the hands of the
trumpeter, ere Agerinus vaulted from his sad-
dle, and bounding with one leap over the
crowd, threw himself upon the former and tore
him from his steed. The head-piece fell off in
the struggle that ensued, revealing the scowl-
ing brow and sinister features of Anicetus.
"Behold, citizens," exclaimed the excited
Agerinus, as with terrific strength he tore away
the armor of his foe, and hurled him down
among the crowd-"behold the murderer of
the daughter of Germanicus-behold the in-
cendiary of Rome !"
THE BURNING CITY.
221
Anicetus fell in the midst of the group be-
low, but did not reach the ground. A hundred
weapons, as if the mere sound of that hated
name had power to call them from their con-
cealment, gleamed fiercely in the red glare :
then arose that eager, fearful shout which tells
of the descent of an enraged multitude upon
its victim, followed by one and only one sharp,
ringing cry of agony. A moment more of si-
lence, and then again the thundering shout of
satiated vengeance rent the welkin. Agerinus,
satisfied with his work, regained his steed, and
seizing the bridle-rein of Burrhus, who as yet
seemed stunned by the blow he had received,
led the way towards the Nævian gate.
But the exasperated populace had tasted
blood, and were not to be satisfied with one
victim. During the evening, many of the ser-
vants of the Emperor had been observed con-
tributing to the progress of the flames in so
open and shameless a manner, as left no doubt
of the justice of the charge which Agerinus had
been the first to utter in so many words. Once
spoken, it was again and again eagerly repeat-
ed, and the grief and despair of the citizens,
vast numbers of whom had already been rend-
ered homeless by the conflagration, soon changed
19*
222
ROME.
to rage and a desire for summary vengeance.
The cry for retribution, for vengeance, for blood,
now arose with appalling distinctness. It was
borne aloft and echoed and re-echoed from re-
mote quarters, until all other sounds were over-
powered by the terrible accents. And as vic-
tim after victim fell beneath the sword, or was
trampled in the dust, or cast as a sacrifice into
the flames, that avenging cry became ever
louder, ever deeper, until the butchery threat-
ened to become indiscriminate. In the very
midst of the horror and strife, however, a new
feeling of dread and awe ame over the multi-
tude, by the recurrence of the same alarming
sounds and convulsive throes which had startled
the assembly in the catacombs. Once and
again, the vast bosom of the earth quivered, as
if about to open and swallow up the devoted
city; and then followed the overthrow of mas-
sive walls, colonnades and towers whose strength
had been hitherto sufficient to resist the ruin
caused by the flames. The immense columns
of smoke and dust, based upon a burning sea,
the waves of which swept onward, like the re-
sistless tide of the ocean, filled the air and
darkened the heavens. Now and then, as the
neavy clouds were separated by the wind, a
THE BURNING CITY.
223
transient glimpse of the Capitol was caught,
and as that emblem of the majesty of Rome
greeted the eye of the multitude, amidst the
earthquake and the fire, it seemed indeed, as if
the end of the world were at hand. It was at
one of these moments, when the ground was
yet trembling with the last and most dreadful
convulsion, that a form was seen standing alone
upon the great altar before the fane of Evander,
whose appearance and gestures were such as to
rivet the attention of every beholder; a tall
figure, wholly clothed in white, with feet and
arms bare, blackened by the smoke and spotted
with blood, with pale hollow countenance and
long beard; before it a vast and wrathful sea of
human life-behind it the terribly magnificent
curtain of cloud and flame ever rolling to the
heavens. It seemed a spectral form revealed
to proclaim the day of doom. Ere long the
bare shrivelled arm was raised towards the sky,
a glow of supernatural excitement lit up the
wasted features, and the multitude was awed
into silence as the words of warning rolled from
his lips.
"In the earthquake and in the fire, look ye
for the coming of the Lord! Behold, he touch-
eth the mountains and they smoke, and the
224
ROME.
hills flow down like molten wax, before the
brightness of his presence."
"It is the Jew, the fierce enemy of Rome!"
murmured one of the citizens in deep and stern
tones, "let not the infidel dog exult in our mis-
fortune."
"Wo to the city of pride!" Selumiel cried
again, and the stir of the multitude was hushed
anew as he spake, "wo to the great city of idol-
atry and blood, which has so long persecuted
the nations! The Lord hath made bare his
holy arm, and the year of his redeemed is
come."
"The Jew is leagued with the tyrant to de-
stroy us," shouted the same person who had be-
fore spoken, "let our vengeance fall on all the
enemies of Rome."
To this suggestion there was no response. It
needed none, for the hour of the aged Jewish
convert had come. Heedless of the brief words
of warning which some in compassion uttered to
save him from the fiery flood which was fast roll-
ing towards the spot he occupied, he continued
to pour forth passages of scripture, which an
ardent but perverted faith applied to the scene.
around, until the quick flame, as if it had been
a living spirit, darted across the narrow expanse,
THE BURNING CITY.
225
and shot up in long spires around the sides of
the great altar. For a moment his eye rested
upon the danger, and then, with a triumphant
smile, he raised his form to its utmost height
and looked towards heaven. A cry of excite-
ment and fear arose from the lips of the crowd,
as the flame caught the loose drapery of his
form-a moment more, and nought was to be
discerned but the black, dense smoke, envelop-
ing, as it were, a statue of fire.
"Save thyself, brother !" shrieked a Chris-
tian, who himself stood on the edge of the
flames, "for it is a sin thus to court death."
"I court not death," was heard, in hoarse
tones, amidst the darkness, "but it was my duty
to speak to this people in the name of the
Lord."
"Hither, then, if thy strength will suffice-
hither."
The idea of a voluntary martyrdom, so ques-
tionable, had not, as it seemed, been cherished
by Selumiel. But he had not calculated right-
ly the danger to which, in his misguided zeal,
he had exposed himself. He sprang toward
the friendly voice, but the distance between
them was too great to be achieved by his feeble
energies. He fell and his head smote the
226
ROME.
base of the altar. With a generous forgetful-
ness of self, his fellow-disciple rushed into the
fire and grasped the inanimate form. But ere
he reached his companions, the life had depart-
ed. The crowd rolled away from the spot, and
the ashes of the departed were soon buried be-
neath the ruins of Rome.
.
The course of Metellus and his party was
now exposed to little interruption. The gate
was passed, and the cool damp air of midnight
bathed the burning brow of the Senator, and
inspired him anew with courage and hope.
Scarcely had they reached the Appian Way,
ere the eye of Burrhus, who had nearly recov-
ered from the effects of the blow he had re-
ceived, detected the armed, servants of Metel-
lus in the distance, pursuing their way to the
tomb. Hastily pointing out the welcome sight
to his friends, he urged Agerinus forward to
give notice of their approach, while the party
quickened their pace to join the attendants.
'Everything is silent here," said Piso, as
the grove and tower became distinctly visible
in the moonlight.
“And undisturbed," quickly answered Me-
tellus: "thank the gods for a merciful deliver-
ance from fear-my daughter is safe."
THE BURNING CITY.
227
"But the German soldiery, my Lord," said
Burrhus, casting an anxious glance around the
apparently deserted scene, "either the earth
has swallowed them, or they are at this mo-
ment in the catacombs."
"The soldiers have halted here," shouted
Agerinus, "there are the prints of iron heels
upon the grass, and here," he added, snatching
a discolored and trampled riband from the
ground" here is evidence of her we seek."
"Let me look upon it," said Metellus, rush-
ing forward. One glance at the slight article
of attire was sufficient to reassure him—" this
is not my daughter's-"
He was yet speaking, when the concealed
door rolled aside from the entrance of the tomb
and Epicharis sprang into the very centre of
the group. Her eye was wild and wandering.
The veil had fallen entirely from her brow, her
hair was dishevelled, and her raiment stained
with blood.
"Once-twice have I smitten him," she
cried, "but this arm must yet reach a greater
than he. Away! ye will not stop me, for I
am but the instrument in the hands of God."
"Speak to me, woman!" exclaimed Metel-
lus, seizing her arm, and endeavoring to fix her
228
ROME.
wandering glance, "thou comest from the
tombs-"
"Detain me not," she replied, hurriedly, "I
know what you would ask-she is safe, and
comes even now; detain me not, for my work
is but half accomplished."
A cry of joy burst from the lips of the patri-
cian and he relaxed his hold upon her garment.
He turned, and in another moment his daugh-
ter was in his arms. In the rapture of that
moment, all the anxiety, the fatigue, the agony
of the past, and the yet pressing peril of the
present were forgotten.
"To Baiæ !" shouted Burrhus from his full
heart, while he folded the tribune to his breast,
"to Baiæ, and we shall hear all—'
""
"And avenge all," said Piso, in a strong
tone, dashing a tear from his glowing cheek.
"And avenge all," solemnly repeated Flavi-
us, as he raised his hand toward heaven.
66 Swear not," said a low voice in his ear,
"Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the
Lord."
He turned and beheld the pale face of Sa-
lome, and all the solemn emotions of the night
came thronging back upon his heart. He
thought of Dobella, and the resolution to seek
THE BURNING CITY.
229
him was instantly formed. A few words of
explanation sufficed to convey his intention to
the party of the patrician.
"Nay," exclaimed Burrhus, with ardor,
"this work must be mine."
"It shall be yours," cried Epicharis, "and
here are stout hearts for the rescue. But will
ye again expose the maiden to the rude grasp
of the barbarian? Haste for I hear the
sound of footsteps in the distance. Yonder
among
the trees waits the chariot of Metellus."
Agerinus, who heard the intimation, sprang
to the spot indicated by her gesture. The
chariot and horses remained quietly standing
where Dobella had left them.
"To Baiæ !" again cried Epicharis: "patri-
cian, there is no safety for the maiden but in
flight."
Metellus needed no further appeal: with the
assistance of Salome, he placed his daughter in
the chariot, and took his seat at her side.
We will not dwell upon the parting between
Julia and the tribune. Hasty and few as were
the words they spake, they were full of mingled
fear and hope. In the future to which they
looked forward, there was much to encourage—
much more to alarm.
20
230
ROME.
The soldiers, left alone with the armed band,
prepared themselves for the remaining duty of
the night. The open tomb afforded a safe en-
trance to the catacombs. The door closed up-
on their descending forms, and the grove was
again left in solitude.
Julia fell upon her father's bosom, and found
relief in tears. The whole scene through which
she had just passed had been so dreadful, that
she looked back upon it as upon some horrid
dream whose fearful sights she would willingly
forget.
"Speak thou, Salome !" she said, as her
father anxiously questioned her, "and yet,"
she added, with a kindling countenance, ere
her attendant could reply, "this weakness is
wrong, for we have been wonderfully preserved,
and this tongue should be the first to speak of
the mercies of the Lord.”"
"Not now-not now, my daughter," inter-
posed the patrician with a smile of tenderness,
as he folded her more closely to his bosom.
"But we must not forget my charge. This,"
he said, as he placed the infant in the arms of
Salome, was flung into my arms to-night by
a distracted woman."
66
"Blessed are the merciful," whispered Sa-
THE BURNING CITY.
231
lome, "for they shall obtain mercy. How
beautiful!"
"The care of it shall be our thank-offering
for the rescue of this night," said Julia im-
printing a kiss upon the lips of the child, "un-
til we can restore it to its mother. And now,
my father, I have strength for the tale.”
She related all the events of the night, from
the time of her departure for the catacombs, to
the fearful scenes of the strife and the rescue-
the solemn baptismal service—the unexpected
appearance of the tribune-the threatening
figure and warning voice of Selumiel-the
fierce onset of the soldiery-the peril of Dobel-
la, and the fall of Tigellinus.
Gloomy forebodings of the future filled the
heart of Metellus, as the evidence of the deep-
laid villainy of the favorite of Nero unfolded
itself in the narrative of his daughter. The
revelations of the scene through which he him-
self had passed, left no doubt upon his mind.
of the agency of the Emperor and his instru-
ments, in the destruction of the city. His
thoughts recurred to his conversation with
Piso, and the evils of conspiracy and revolu-
tion seemed infinitely less dreadful than the
endurance of tyranny so bloody and atrocious.
232
ROME.
He hesitated no longer as to his own course in
the struggle which was approaching. Every
consideration of patriotism, of humanity, of
justice, called for the overthrow of the despot.
"Fear not, my daughter," he said, as the
last words of the narrative trembled upon her
lips, "the gods have shielded thee in this great
peril—we will look boldly for the protection of
heaven for the future."
"I do not fear," she replied, "for I know in
whom I have trusted. I have learned to re-
pose upon One who faints not, neither is weary,
in the care of His people, and the first prayer
of my heart is, that thou, my father, mayest
know Him as the one only living and true
God."
"The time will come, beloved mistress,"
whispered Salome in her ear, "we have looked
for it-we have prayed for it. The time will
come, when all thou lovest shall confess the
name of Jesus."
The red hues of the summer morning had
already tinged the east before they arrived at
Baiæ. Afar to the north and west they saw
the horizon darkened with the smoke of the yet
burning city-but they had reached a home of
safety and of peace.
BOOK THE THIRD.
MARTYRDOM.
-Farewell! for heaven I quit you:
But yet, nor you, nor these my loved companions,
Once in the twilight dance and morning song,
Though ye are here to hymn my death, not you
Can I forsake without a bleeding spirit.
MILMAN.
20*
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I
BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
But as the earthly bride
Lingers upon the threshold of her home,
And through the mist of parting tears surveys
The chamber of her youth, even so have I,
With something of a clinging fondness, look'd
Upon the flowers and trees of lovely Daphne.
THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH.
UMMER faded into autumn, and still the
groves of Baiæ the beautiful retained their
greenness and bloom. To the heat and splen-
dor of the brilliant August days, succeeded the
softer glow of sweet September, and the fre-
quent rains left a renewed freshness upon the
grass and the leaves, not unlike that which,
months ago, had been awakened by the genial
breath of spring.
That mild sun-light of early autumn, how
dreamily it sleeps upon the avenues of the park!
The groves and fountain-arbors are softened
236
MARTYRDOM.
into loveliness by its presence, and it sleeps,
like a beautiful spirit upon the grotto floor,
amid roseate shells and transparent mother-of-
pearl. What though the verdure has begun to
fade upon the topmost boughs of the forest
trees, and the low menacing wind sweeps ever
and anon, like the first melancholy strain of
the dirge of nature, through the woods that
crown the mountain side? Nature is still love-
ly-lovelier for all these gentle, silent changes.
The soul clings to her only the more steadily
for all her sweet inconstancy. She is a mis-
tress in whose service the heart never sickens.
Clouds and sunshine, winds and dews, the tran-
sient gloom, and the returning brightness, the
glittering, boundless firmament, bright with its
myriad orbs shining on our transient earth
journey; shining into our hearts as some reve-
lation of the Infinite, or veiled in gloom and
leaden darkness, as a curtain behind which the
storms are gathering: all are beautiful; all
render not the face of nature the less enchant-
ing, each imparts some grace; which only riv-
ets the ties by which we are bound to her the
more strongly. Such is the blessing which yet
lingers with us, which God vouchsafes and
continues to the "pure of heart," the blessing
BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
237
wherewith he comforts his children, while they
are yet toiling and striving, weak by nature,
yet strong and hopeful through grace, to work
out their salvation. "I see my God in nature,"
says the pious Herder, "and I love my God
through all the revelations of nature. O, broth-
er, if this beautiful, wonderful earth, with her
winter brightness, and her summer balm speaks
not to thy heart, recalls not the words of Him
who, on earth, spake to thee as a God, telling
thee that thou wert and art loved of heaven ;—
I pity thee, nay more, I weep for thee."
The reader will follow us to one of those
pleasant arbors of which we have slightly spok-
en in a former chapter, a favorite retreat during
the warm hours of the morning. As we enter
we notice how closely the luxuriant foliage has
entwined itself around the tall and graceful
trellises, leaving scarcely an opening for the jet
of the fountain, which is broken at the roof,
and scatters itself in the finest spray upon the
leaves. How cool, how reviving, is the bub-
bling of the water from its crystal depths; with
what a pleasant sound of freshness the big
drops fall into the marble basin! The song
of the birds we hear not, save now and then a
brief lively strain, breaking out fitfully, and as
12
238
MARTYRDOM,
suddenly hushed. Here and there a ray of sun-
shine steals through the openings of the foliage,
and sleeps upon the grass, and the low hum of
insects, as their wings glance in the light, steals
pleasantly upon the ear.
We hear voices, subdued as if in respect to
the stillness of the hour and the scene-the
low musical accents of woman, blending with
the deeper and stronger tones of a manly voice.
Their forms are dimly seen amidst the drapery
of the garden walks-and now they enter the
arbor-it is Julia of Baia leaning upon the
arm of her lover.
The hue of the rose upon her cheek is scarce-
ly visible now; and her eye, at all times soft
and tender, has lost somewhat of the light
which shone there when she was first presented
to the reader. There is no shadow upon her
brow; but one cannot help thinking that there
is a melancholy expression in the countenance.
And well there may be; since that summer
evening Julia of Baia has suffered much, has
learned much. Then her life-dream was many-
hued, but vague and aimless; the heart had
been touched lightly, but the soul slumbered
within her. She saw but the beautiful earth,
with its flowers and trees and sunshine, its
BAIÆ THE BEAUTIFUL.
239
glittering dew-drops and crystal waters, with
the blue star-paved firmament overhead, and
the carpet of green beneath her feet. And over
it all there was a soft veil of mystery, which
her young eyes sought to pierce in vain. There
were aspirations in her soul which she knew
not how to interpret; a sense of something
which she had not, and which nature, nor phi-
losophy, nor poetic faith could supply; a want
which the enjoyment of all earth's pleasant
things supplied not.
But now, how changed! and how complete,
how satisfying the change. The eyes of her
mind were enlightened, and the light of the
glorious Gospel had revealed, at once, the ob-
ject of life, and the path of duty. The veil
had been withdrawn from nature; she saw the
world reposing in the smile of a reconciled God.
She felt the nobleness of the privilege of living
for Christ; and a spirit of more than mortal
energy impelled her to seek for other souls the
same gifts of hope and blessedness which filled
her own. The aspect of danger had already
revealed itself to all who professed the Chris-
tian name; but the heroism of Christian faith
had revealed itself also. The reality of martyr-
240
MARTYRDOM.
dom came, but it found the disciples unshrink-
ing and prepared.
"You bring sad tidings, Flavius,” she said,
as they seated themselves within the arbor,
"tidings more strange than sad, perhaps, for to
such an one as Dobella, the death of the martyr
is no terror. For him "to die is gain.”
66
This," replied the tribune, despondingly,
"lessens not the guilt and vileness of those
whose work it is."
"Nay, Flavius," she answered, lifting her
beautiful eyes to heaven, "our times are in the
hands of God; in His hands also are the hearts
of kings. Who knows what glory He may see
fit to work out for His people, through even the
unworthy Nero and his instruments ?"
"Pardon me, Julia," said Flavius, “if I can-
not yet look upon this matter as a Christian
should. I cannot see the noble falling before
the base by such means and on such pretexts,
without feeling the indignation of a Roman."
"And yet," replied Julia, "it is our duty to
pray for those in authority, even when we feel
the rod of their oppression. Doubtless, when
the ends of His Providence are answered, God
will open the way for our deliverance."
"It is a noble belief," said the tribune with
BAIÆ THE BEAUTIFUL.
241
a doubtful smile, "all too noble for these evil
times."
"If the days upon which we have fallen are
evil," she added warmly, "are we not here to
make them better? To what purpose has the
Redeemer chosen us as His own, if not that we
may let our light so shine before men, that they,
seeing our good works, may glorify our Father
who is in heaven ?"
"And thou, dear Julia," replied her lover, a
shade of sadness stealing over his brow as he
gazed fondly upon her animated countenance,
"and thou, perhaps, wouldst not shrink from
suffering, from death, in confessing the God of
the Nazarenes."
"Such would be my duty," answered the
maiden quietly, but firmly, "and such, should
I be called to it, would be my blessed privi-
lege."
The tribune sighed and cast his eyes to the
ground. His bosom was full of dark and con-
flicting emotions. The feelings of a patriot,
the indignation of a high and virtuous mind,
his solemn pledges to his fellow-conspirators,
were now all brought into contact with those
new principles of gentleness and submission in-
culcated by the religion of Jesus. The heart of
21.
242
MARTYRDOM.
the soldier had been touched, prejudice and er-
ror had given place to conviction and love of
the truth; but the surrender of the spirit, the
self-trusting spirit, had not been made. There
needed yet the discipline of sorrow, the still
small voice of the Spirit from out the whirl-
wind, the earthquake and the fire of earthly
trial-the shattering of every fair fabric of
worldly hope, and amidst that ruin the revela-
tion of the true glory of faith, and the suffi-
ciency of God.
The eyes of the maiden were bent anxiously
upon his countenance, as the shadows of the
gloomy thoughts within, passed, one after an-
other, over his features, like the shadows of
clouds across the surface of open waters. To
her, also, it was an hour of temptation; for
the pure, earnest, devoted affection of a heart
which loves once and forever, had been all giv-
en up to him, believing that Heaven would
sanction the surrender. Could she find it in
her heart—now that the bloody and relentless
persecutions of Nero seemed to have filled up
the appalling measure of his crimes-could she
find it in her heart to stay the arm which was
raised to free the world of such an enemy to
God and man? In human view, the regener-
BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
243
ation of the state, the safety of all who were
dearest to her heart, and more than all, the life
of the infant Church hung upon the overthrow
of the tyrant. Her father, her uncle, her be-
trothed, were all known to be offensive to Nero
and his favorites; and for herself, what could
secure protection from the pursuit of Tigel-
linus? And there was something whispering
at her heart, of happiness with him she loved-
the promise of domestic peace and joy which
should succeed to the brief tempest of revolu--
tion. She trembled; and for a time the weak-
ness of the woman threatened to endanger the
devotedness of the Christian disciple. Then
the emphatic words of the inspired Apostle
came back to her memory, as a voice from
heaven, to guide her in the bewildering situa-
tion in which the Providence of God had placed
her. A quick pang shot to her heart at the
recollection; but it was the pang of resolved
and patient submission. She felt that the
hardest earthly sacrifice was before her.
"Julia, my own Julia," exclaimed the tri-
bune, seizing her hand and pressing it to his
lips, "it must be. Heaven and earth call aloud
for the sword of the avenger. By every tie by
which I am bound to your uncle-to your
244
MARTYRDOM.
father; by every hope which I have cherished
in you; by every sacred duty to the empire, it
must be."
Her cheek grew suddenly pale, her lip quiv-
ered, but the reluctant words died upon her
tongue.
66
Say, dearest," continued Flavius, with fer-
vor, "say that you can approve, that you bless
the effort. Give me but one word of encourage-
ment, and it will be as a nerve of iron to my
heart."
66
Surely, surely, Flavius," she faltered, while
overcome with her emotion, her head fell upon
his shoulder, "this trial is a heavy one. I
cannot--must not--betray the religion of
Jesus."
66
Upon me be the guilt," he replied, “if
guilt there be. But I will not endanger your
peace by urging your approval. Say that you
will not frown upon me-that you will love
me still."
"I do say it," she answered, "whatever may
come, be it suffering, or chains, or martyrdom,
this heart will not cease to love you-these
lips to pray for you. O, Flavius !" she added,
with an upward glance, in which hope seemed
brightening into faith, "how have I loved to
颧
​BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
245
think that our names were written in the book
of life!"
"Thou shalt guide me," exclaimed her lover,
"thou shalt lead me in the way to heaven.
May the God whom thou servest, the God in
whom I too believe, pardon me, if I err in the
path of duty I have chosen."
"Look not to me," the maiden answered,
"look not to any human thing for direction.
Lean not, beloved, upon an arm of flesh. In
God is our strength, and we must seek it there.
Let us then go to Him who hears the prayer
of the troubled and burdened heart; to Him
whose spirit is understanding and strength. It
is not in man to direct his steps. And for
thee, also, Flavius, the way is open to the
throne of grace."
"I will seek it, Julia," he answered, "as I
have not sought it yet. Often in the silence of
the night, in the solitude of my chamber, I
have dwelt on those midnight scenes, and the
strong heart has melted within me like the
heart of a child. But these distracting fears,
these dreadful forebodings will still return.
behold the ruin which hangs over us all, and
the darkest vision, beloved of my heart! is
that in which I behold thee summoned to the
246
MARTYRDOM.
question, or more horrible still, a prey to the
atrocious wickedness of Nero."
"Fear not for me," she replied, as an earn-
est and confident smile illuminated her beauti-
ful features, "He in whose mercy I trust, to
whose guidance I commend thee, will temper
the wind to the shorn lamb."
The countenance of her lover grew bright
with the same generous enthusiasm. He saw
how much the appeal to heaven had strength-
ened that pure young spirit for the trying hour.
And peace came also to his own heart. Again
he pressed her hand to his lips, and arose.
"Go, then, Flavius," she said, “but seek,
ere you act, the grotto of the recluse of Pausi-
lippo. If thou wouldst be a Christian, he will
speak to thy soul with power. And remember,
that our God is above all. Without him not
a sparrow falls to the ground. If it be His will
that the sun of our earthly love should set in
clouds and darkness, He can unite us again.
where tyranny, and sin, and parting are no
more. Farewell, then, Flavius, farewell: my
trust is in heaven."
66 In heaven I will trust," replied the tribune,
"for I feel that heaven alone can aid us :--
and is not my work the work of heaven? But
BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
247
.
you say well, Julia; I will seek the holy man.
Yet talk not thus, dearest, of parting; such
gloomy words do but depress the spirit.”
"Depress it," repeated the maiden with
tears, "depress it, Flavius ? O what would
our hope be, if we could not look forward to
the bright and holy world beyond the grave?
For thee, for me, there is rest, there is bliss
there-
""
Her words were arrested by a voice which
seemed to float upon the air-so soft, so clear,
it might have been the voice of an angel.
And the words of the exquisite strain sank in-
to the hearts of both, as if they had been, in-
deed, words of promise from the skies.
What means yon blaze on high?
The empyrean sky
Like the rich veil of some proud fane is rending;
I see the star-paved land,
Where all the angels stand,
Even to the highest height in burning rows ascending;
Some with their wings dispread,
And bowed the stately head,
As on some mission of God's love departing,
Like flames from midnight conflagrations starting.
Behold! the appointed messengers are they,
And nearest earth they wait to waft our souls away.
248
MARTYRDOM.
Higher and higher still,
More lofty statures fill
The jasper courts of the everlasting dwelling.
Cherub and seraph pace
The illimitable space,
While sleep the folded plumes from their white shoulders
swelling.
From all the harping throng,
Bursts the tumultuous song,
Like the unceasing sounds of cataracts pouring
Hosanna o'er Hosanna louder soaring;
That faintly echoing down to earthly ears
Hath seemed the concert sweet of the harmonious spheres.
Beyond! ah who is there
With the white snowy hair?
'Tis he, 'tis he, the Son of man appearing!
At the right hand of One
The darkness of whose throne
The sun-eyed seraph Host behold with awe and fearing.
O'er him the rainbow springs,
And spreads its emerald wings,
Down to the glassy sea his loftiest seat o'er-arching,
Hark! thunders from His throne, like steel-clad armies
marching,
The Christ! the Christ commands us to his home!
Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come, we come, we come! (61)
"How beautiful!" exclaimed the tribune, as
the music ceased.
"Such is the kingdom of our God; such,
Flavius, the home to which we look forward.
BAIE THE BEAUTIFUL.
249
Said not Dobella truly, that for the Christian
'to die is gain ?'"'
He replied not, but gazed at her for a mo-
ment in silence. Then, as if afraid to trust
himself longer in her presence, he uttered a brief
farewell and departed. In the next moment
Salome glided with noiseless steps into the ar-
bor, and seated herself at the feet of her mis-
tress.
66
I
CHAPTER II.
THE GATHERING STORM.
To die 't is dreary,
To die a villain's death, that's yet a pang,
But it must down. I have so steeped my soul
In the bitter ashes of true penitence
That they have put on a delicious savor,
And all is halcyon quiet-all within.
FAZIO.
BRING news from Rome, my mistress;
tidings of mingled sadness and joy. Many
saints have already won the bright crown;
many more, imprisoned or accused, look for-
ward with patient hope to the hour of martyr-
dom."
66 And what of Varus Dobella ?" asked Julia,
almost fearful to hear the answer to the ques-
tion.
"He dies by the lions, at the approaching
show," replied Salome. "The accusation of
Tigellinus is all powerful, and he is charged
with the deepest share in the burning of the
city. The words of the aged Christian, Selu-
THE GATHERING STORM.
251
miel, who himself fell in the flames, have been
perverted to color the accusation."
"And Dobella-”
"Will die as a Christian should, though he
boldly and publicly exposes the falsehood of
the allegation. Nero will hasten his work, be-
cause the people begin to murmur. All believe
that the burning of Rome was his own act;
and although the prejudices of the people have
driven them fiercely into the persecution, they
will not look tamely upon such injustice to-
wards the noblest citizens. They will not even
believe that Dobella is a Christian !"
"I feel, Salome," said Julia, looking anx-
iously at the Judæan, "that Dobella will fall
-that it is a sacrifice which God will approve.
The superstitious rage of the people, in the ex-
citement of the shows, will be stronger than
their love for the right."
"Happy-thrice happy," said the other fer-
vently, "is he who is chosen of heaven to die
for the name of Jesus. Happy, if we suffer
with Him that we may also reign with Him.
Thou, also, my mistress, mayst be called to this
glory."
"May the Spirit of God strengthen me for
the hour when it comes!" said the maiden,
252
MARTYRDOM.
clasping her hands, and looking up to heaven.
"If it be His will-His will be done.”
"Thou hast spoken with the tribune, my
mistress,” said Salome, after a pause, in which
both seemed lost in thought, "how stands his
purpose now ?"
"Alas, Salome !" replied her mistress, "his
mind is still strongly set upon that doubtful
work. Bitter indeed, has been the trial of my
spirit within this last hour-but I have felt
how blessed a thing it is to cast even that har-
assing care upon God. Hast thou seen the de-
luded Epicharis ?"
"I have, and the prayers of the faithful
have been offered for her, but the evil spirit is
still strong at her heart. How dreadful to
think of a soul thus lost!"
"Did she speak of my father ?"
"Your father has joined the conspirators,
and his example has brought over numbers of
the noblest and strongest. She has told me
more. Her addresses to Volusius Proculus,
were revealed by that abandoned man to the
Emperor. She was cited to answer, and con-
fronted with her accuser, but eluded the charge
by her self-possession and undaunted firmness.
Nevertheless, the suspicions of Nero are aroused,
THE GATHERING STORM.
253
and the partisans of Piso have determined to
hasten the catastrophe. They meet this night
at his villa. Your father will be with them.
Doubtless they will act with vigor, for the
death of Burrhus has added the last drop to
the cup of vengeance."
"The death of Burrhus !" exclaimed the
maiden feebly.
"He died, as is said," replied the Judæan,
"by poison administered by the hands of the
Emperor, and the draught was prepared by
Poppæa.
""
66 Alas, for the brave and the true-hearted!
Surely, Salome, the bolt of God's wrath must
soon be revealed to avenge such crimes."
“Nero also will be judged on high,” replied
the slave "the office of Burrhus has been
divided between Fenius Rufus and Tigellinus.
The former has joined the conspirators, and
vows that Piso shall ere long, sit on the impe-
rial throne-the latter has accused your father
of treason against the state, and waits only for
his death, to cast you into prison as a Chris-
tian."
"Salome!" replied the agitated maiden, not
without tears, as the words of her attendant
summoned up before her mind the full malig-
ご
​254
MARTYRDOM.
nity of the designs of Tigellinus, "I feel that
my days are numbered. But I will make one
effort to save my father: meet it is that the
child should offer up her life in sacrifice to
heaven for him who gave her birth."
"Alas! my mistress !" replied the Judæan
in alarm, "what is thy purpose ?"
"I may not tell thee till I have sought guid-
ance and strength in prayer. Enough that I
fear my own heart-but the Spirit of God can
give more than is sufficient for the task. Leave
me now, Salome: we will meet again at the
evening hour."
Julia retired to her chamber and spent many
hours in prayer. In the mean time, the arrows
of affliction were already drawn from the quiv-
er, and the storm was gathering with fearful
rapidity.
CHAPTER III.
THE BANQUET HALL OF PISO.
Ye that move,
Shrouded in secrecy as in a robe
And gloom of deepest midnight, the vaunt courier
Of your dread presence! Will ye not reveal,
Will ye not one compassionate glimpse vouchsafe
By what dark instruments 't is now your charge
To save the city?
Accursed happiness!
And will he set my childless misery up
To be a wider gaze? My Lord, I'm here.
MILMAN.
T the villa of Piso the hour of the ban-
AT
quet had passed, and the silence that
reigned in the apartment where the guests
were assembled, proclaimed that the season for
serious deliberation had come.
The suspicious circumstances attending the
death of Burrhus, the alarming tidings that
Epicharis had been summoned before the Em-
peror to confront Volusius Proculus, her accu-
ser; the unwonted reserve of Nero towards
256
MARTYRDOM.
Seneca and Lucan, were indications of the
most alarming nature and all present felt that
success and safety depended upon immediate
action.
The accession of Fenius Rufus to the party
of the conspirators was altogether unlooked for,
and inspired renewed confidence. He had
come, almost unsought, in a threatening hour,
when the hearts of the bravest began to sink
at the difficulties which boded a doubtful ter-
mination to the enterprise. Burrhus had fal-
len beneath the suspicious cruelty of the tyrant,
and Tigellinus was exalted into greater power
by his fall. The high-minded and politic Ves-
pasian had been sent on a public mission to a
distance from Rome; Dobella was imprisoned,
and Metellus was threatened. The timid,
time-serving Seneca, although pledged to their
support, stood somewhat aloof from their de-
liberations as the crisis approached, and Epi-
charis, the inspiration of whose untiring zeal
and enthusiasm had been felt by all, had well-
nigh betrayed the whole by her mistaken con-
fidence in Proculus.
Fenius Rufus was the first to speak. He
arose from his couch, and stood before Piso.
"It is now," he said, "our first, our pressing
THE BANQUET HALL OF PISC.
257
duty to concentrate our deliberations upon the
means of executing our purpose without delay.
Whatever your determinations may be, my
friends, this hand is ready.”
"It is evident,” replied Metellus, in a voice
whose every tone begat confidence in the minds
of the doubting, "it is evident that delay is
now our worst enemy. Let the blow be speedy
that it may be certain."
The remark arrested the steps of Lucan, as
he paced the floor with hasty step and angry
brow. He advanced and laid his hand upon
the tunic of Scevinus, the senator.
"Holds your purpose yet, my lord ?" he
asked, with a significant look at Flavius, who
reclined with vacant eye and thoughtful brow
upon the adjoining couch.
"It holds,” replied Scevinus.
"Then hear me, friends," added the poet;
"the Emperor will be present here to-morrow,
at our convivial party. He will come divested
of his guards, and unencumbered by the parade
of state. Let the blow fall then.”
The conspirators looked at each other for a
moment in silence. A flush mounted to the
cheek of Piso as he encountered the calm, in-
quiring eye of Metellus, but he made no reply.
258
MARTYRDOM.
"Lucan says well," said Scevinus, coming
forward and drawing a dagger from the folds
of his robe. "Behold this weapon, which I
have dedicated to the cause of liberty. With
this, if you will confer the honorable appoint-
ment, I will pierce the heart of the tyrant, and
to-morrow's sun shall be the last that shall set
upon his crime."
"And what says Piso ?" asked Lucan, as his
eye rested in some suspicion upon the troubled
countenance of his host.
"I honor, and I would emulate your noble
zeal, my lords,” replied Piso, "but I cannot
consent to the step thus suddenly proposed.
Not," he added, as he observed the sinister
glance of the excited and fickle poet, whose
bravery at the best, all knew to be of the ques-
tionable sort, "not that my heart falters, or
that I doubt the success of the design. But I
speak as a Roman to whom the gods of hospi-
tality are yet sacred. The world must never
say that the table of Piso was imbrued with
blood, and that the hospitable divinities were
violated here by the murder of a prince, however
detested for his atrocious deeds. Say I well,
Metellus ?"
"Such were, indeed, a baseness," calmly an-
THE BANQUET HALL OF PISO.
259
swered the patrician, "which would not fail to
fall heavily upon our own heads in the indig-
nation of all virtuous Romans. And besides
this, Baiæ should not be the scene of this deed.
Rome only should witness his fall."
"Rome," exclaimed Piso with enthusiasm,
"is indeed the proper theatre for such a catas-
trophe. The scene should be in his own palace,
that haughty mansion, built with the spoils of
plundered citizens. 7 The blow for liberty
would be still more noble before an assembly
of the people. The actions of men who dare
nobly for the public should be seen by the pub-
lic eye."
"The games of the circus are approaching,"
said Metellus, “let us there work out our de-
liverance; for although, since the conflagration,
Nero has hidden himself from the people
through fear, he will not fail to attend his
favorite diversions, and in that scene of gaiety,
access to his person will not be difficult.”
The proposal of Metellus was received with
applause, for all placed thorough reliance upon
his wisdom, and the integrity of his motives.
"Hear me then, my friends," he continued,
"for the attainment of this virtuous object, I
will even stoop to seeming baseness. I will be-
260
MARTYRDOM.
seech the Emperor on my knees, to let me
know the full extent of the accusations which,
as I learn, are brought against me. Then,
Scevinus," he added, turning to the senator,
"then the sword will do its work."
66 A work in which we of the sword," ex-
claimed Fenius Rufus to Flavius, "will aid
with nerves strung to desperation by the mem-
ory of a thousand crimes."
The tribune thought of his interview with
Julia, and of his intended visit to the recluse
of Pausilippo, as he replied, firmly :
"It is the will of Heaven!"
"One word more, ere we part, my lords,'
said Metellus, "we shall have need, when our
work is done, of the prudent heart and the
strong hand to preserve us from the horrors of
anarchy. There is one among us," he added,
advancing, and taking the hand of Piso,
"whom destiny and our own regard alike call
to the imperial dignity."
66 Long live Piso !" was the unanimous res-
ponse, "long live the noble and the brave as
the father of the Empire !"
"You do me too much honor, my lords," re-
plied Piso, with a burning cheek, "were my
voice heard in the choice, Julius Metellus-"
THE BANQUET HALL OF PISO.
261
"No more, Piso," said the consul elect, as a
languid smile played over his serious features,
"I know what you would say what must be
left unsaid. I must even lay down the honors
of the office to which the people have lately
called me. My best efforts, my prayers, will
always be at the service of Rome, but I must
continue to serve her as a citizen."
"Noble Metellus !" exclaimed Piso, with
genuine enthusiasm, clasping the hand of his
friend warmly, "would that Rome had many
such as thou !"
"She hath worthier sons," replied Metellus,
as a tear of sympathy, excited by the emotion
of all around him, rolled down his cheek,
"worthier to rule, but, I trust, not more wil-
ling to lay down life and all but honor in her
service. But enough, if our conference is ended,
my duty calls me elsewhere."
The particulars of the plot were soon ad-
justed, and the conspirators dispersed quietly
to their homes.
CHAPTER IV.
THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.
So wanderers ever fond and true,
Look homeward through the evening sky,
Without a streak of Heaven's soft blue
To aid affection's dreaming eye.
The wanderer seeks his native bower,
And we will look and long for thee,
And thank thee for each trying hour,
Wishing, not struggling, to be free.
KEBLE.
N the mellow, autumnal twilight, Metellus
I and the tribune approached the
and the tribune approached the quiet villa,
where both would willingly have consented to
spend the remaining years of life apart from
the stir and turmoil of public intrigues and
the toils of state. Their way lay along the
broad open avenue which terminated the ground
on the east, and descended to the water-side,
between its double row of trees, among whose
fading foliage the breeze of evening was awak-
ening music in harmony with the hour and the
scene. The bosom of the bay was crowded
THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.
263
with barges, as if the luxurious citizens prized
the enjoyments of their retreat the more as the
season drew nigh in which they were to be de-
prived of them. The western firmament was
yet tinged with the glory of the sunset, and
the evening star shone with a gentle lustre
through the light crimson veil that floated
upon that serene sky.
The subject of their conversation was of ab-
sorbing interest to both; the safety and happi-
ness of her, with whom the heart of the one
was linked by the holiest and strongest ties of
paternal affection, and to whom the other
was bound by ties equally strong and equally
sacred.
"Should I fall, Flavius," said Metellus,
"aim not to avenge my death, but seek with
Julia some home of safety where the arm of
the tyrant cannot reach you. Swear to me, by
the gods you hold most sacred, that you will
protect my daughter."
"I do swear,” replied the tribune with fer-
vor, "although no oath can bind me stronger
than my love for your daughter now binds me.
I swear by the God of the Christians, that so
long as life shall remain, it shall be dedicated
to her."
264
MARTYRDOM.
.
"Think not, my son," answered Metellus
affectionately, pressing the arm of the tribune
closer to his own, "that I doubt your affection
for my child, or your honor. But when all
other means have failed, there may yet be
safety in flight."
"All other means will not fail," replied the
other, with the generous confidence of youth,
"there is a God above us who will protect the
right. Doubt not, my lord, of the issue.'
""
"I have learned to doubt the issue of every-
thing earthly," said the patrician, with a mel-
ancholy smile, "and my heart loses its strength
when I think of my daughter. Hast thou
marked, Flavius, how strangely the doctrines
of this new religion have affected her ?"
66
"I have, my lord, and I wonder not at its
power. I too believe in Christ."
"Thou!" replied Metellus, with unfeigned
amazement, for, in the slight regard which he
had given to what he deemed nothing more
than an attractive and harmless superstition,
he had almost entirely separated himself from
all effectual acquaintance with Christianity;
"thou, Flavius ?" he repeated, "this is strange,
indeed !"
"It is not so," said Flavius, "after what
THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.
265
mine own ears have heard, after what mine
own eyes have seen. I was present at the bur-
ial of a Christian; I was present at the bap-
tism of your daughter. My reason bows to this
faith, and my heart embraces it as a true reve-
lation from heaven."
The words of the tribune awoke in the heart
of Metellus a new and grateful emotion-a de-
sire to know something more of that system
which seemed destined to subdue all minds that
were brought into contact with its doctrines.
Flavius saw that such was his feeling, and
supplied the knowledge as far as he was able.
The brow of the patrician slightly darkened as
he detailed the conversation with Dobella at
the tomb; but as the narrative proceeded, and
the great doctrine of the soul's immortality
dawned more clearly upon his mind, in the lan-
guage of the Christian books, and the hymn in
the funeral rites, his interest deepened, and all
his faculties soon became thoroughly absorbed.
His thoughts dwelt upon it after the words of
his companion had ceased to fall upon his ear,
and memory vividly recalled the earnest and
tender spirit in which his daughter had often
sought to win his serious regard to the religion
of Christ.
266
MARTYRDOM.
The Spirit of God-the still small voice
which is able to speak to the heart by the in-
strumentality of means, which to human view
are all inadequate the Spirit, whose work is
accomplished as effectually by the feeblest an-
nouncement of the truth, as by the overpower-
ing evidence of miracle, or the manifestation
of Pentecostal splendors, had not been denied
to the prayer of faith. A heavenly light was
dawning in the soul of the Roman noble at the
very hour when his daughter knelt with the
faithful Salome, in supplications for him, at the
throne of grace.
As they drew near to the portico, they heard
voices singing. Bright rays of a lamp streamed
through the open doors of the atrium, and
they distinguished the following words, sung,
without accompaniment, to a simple strain of
music.
HYMN AT THE LIGHTING OF THE LAMPS.8
I.
At the balmy close of day,
While the twilight fades away;
Ere the stars, with trembling gleam,
Cast their image on the stream,
Be our praise to Thee addressed,
Father, Son, and Spirit blest.
THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.
267 ·
II.
As we watch the evening light
Softly melting into night,
As the kindled lamp-light falls
Brightly on the chamber walls,
Emblems faint of Light Divine,
God in heaven, the praise be thine.
II.
Thee in glorious hymns we praise,
Voice and heart, to thee we raise;
Thou wilt hear our feeble hymn,
'Mid the songs of Cherubim
Ever rolling round thy throne,
Great Jehovah, three in one.
2
IV.
Bounteous Lord of heavenly light,
Shine upon our mortal night:
Son of God! our soul's life-giver,
From the death of sin deliver
Us thy children, while we sing
Praise to thee, eternal King!
They stood together, in silence, at the en-
trance of the portico until the voices ceased.
They advanced, and the light, graceful form of
Julia issued from the court.
There was a sweet serenity in her counte-
nance which told how thoroughly her heart had
268
MARTYRDOM.
been engaged by the elevated sentiments of the
hymn they had heard. No eye but His to
whose service she had dedicated herself, saw the
noble and holy purpose of self devotion that
was in her heart. She had laid it before Him
in prayer, and her prayer had brought an an-
swer of peace.
The succeeding hour was spent in conversa-
tion, on what had now become a theme of in-
terest to all. With what graceful feelings did
the young and fervent disciple witness the evi-
dent impression which had been made upon
the mind and heart of her father. How ear-
nestly, and yet with what sweet and winning
grace, did she respond to every inquiry which
his aroused attention suggested!
"Bring me those writings, my daughter,"
said Metellus, after Flavius had withdrawn,
"I may say to you what you tell me Agrippa
said to the Apostle, Almost thou persuadest
me to be a Christian.'"
C
"Would to God, my father," she replied,
as she drew the scroll from her bosom, and
placed it in his hand, "would to God you.
were not almost, but altogether a Christian !"
The patrician smiled tenderly upon her. As
he imprinted a parting kiss upon her cheek,
THE BOW IN THE CLOUD.
269
and then retired to his chamber, to seek refuge
from the anxieties that oppressed him in the
perusal of the Christian Scriptures, Julia
sought her couch with tears of grateful joy,
for she saw the bow in the cloud.
23*
CHAPTER V.
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
Question me not!
-My duty bids me do it;
Whence this bold enterprise, by whom conceived,
And what the means you use? It seems, indeed,
Of aspect plausible, and well matured,
But will it stand the test of sober reason?
BEAUMONT.
N fulfilment of his promise to Julia, the tri-
bune pursued his way towards Mount Pau-
silippo to seek the counsel of the aged Chris-
tian, whose name, from several years' solitary
residence there, had become almost identified,
among the adherents of the new faith, with
the spot he inhabited. Peculiar sanctity was
attached to his character from the fact that he
was reported to have been among those who
had been permitted to attend upon the Saviour
during his early ministry. The gifts of proph-
ecy and miracle were said yet to linger with
him, and he was regarded with a veneration
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
271
scarcely inferior to that which was accorded to
the Apostles themselves. Called in mature
manhood to the duties of an evangelist, he had
devoted all his energies to the work, through
suffering, peril, and persecution; and now,
although extreme in age, he yet retained the
ardor of his early faith, and the self-denying
activity of his early zeal, and remained a
counsellor and an example to the tried and
suffering disciples.
"Yet wherefore should I seek this man ?"
was a question which the tribune asked him-
self more than once during his solitary journey.
"Am I not already pledged to this business?
and I would not pause in its execution."
But he remembered the earnest look, the
sweet enthusiasm, the solemn appeal of his be-
loved, and quickened his step. "I will on,"
he said, "were it but for thy sake, Julia; I
will speak with the venerable man. His wis-
dom may direct to the means of rescue for the
imprisoned Dobella, or at least aid me in gain-
ing access to him."
He walked on beneath the soft, clear moon-
light, and the great night around him seemed
holier than the day. The harsh and jarring
voices of the world's strife seemed all left be-
272
MARTYRDOM.
hind him. He was alone with his own soul
and with his God. He looked up to the glori-
ous, silent heavens, and, for the moment, for-
got his dangers, his anxieties, his fears. Never
before had he so felt the power of the truth
that the all-seeing eye was upon him and his.
Never before had he so thoroughly realized the
independence of the human soul of all that is
finite and transient. The stars, as they looked
down upon his path seemed to whisper peace
and hope to his spirit-they were types of that
which changes not, types of the immortality to
which he had learned to aspire-of the Heaven
to which the finger of faith directed him. The
voice of the wind among the olive groves seem-
ed to breathe of that unseen country of life
and rest-and on the bosom of the waters, and
far down in their blue mysterious depths, lay,
as it were, the shadow of that eternity, which
is unchangeable, limitless, serene.
He drew near to Pausilippo. The groves,
the marble-paved terraces, the villas, were
bathed with the silvery flood of light, and the
frequent statues stood up around him as the
silent representatives of an age that had passed
away. Here a colossal figure of Jupiter Olym-
pus, with passionless features, calm, majestic
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
273
brow, and cold smile, looked down upon him
from amidst its grove of brilliant evergreen-
there the Grecian Minerva, as the impersona-
tion of intellectual beauty, confronted him with
her lofty brow. On one hand, the graceful fig-
ure of the Paphian goddess was finely con-
trasted with the airy form of Diana on the
other-and close at hand were the muses wait-
ing around Apollo, as if to catch the inspira-
tion from his lute.
"Vain images of that higher life to which
the human soul aspires," said the tribune aloud,
as he paused for a moment on his way: "the
time shall come when such things as ye shall
be all that is left to attest the reign of the old
religion. How poor, how lifeless, is error, when
once the heart has thrilled to the voice of the
truth. These beautiful fictions of a faith
which lives no more- -a faith so strangely
blending the sensual and transient with man's
unquenchable longings after the spiritual and
the enduring, shall vanish away like spirits of
the night before the day which is approach-
ing."
His last words were repeated in a subdued,
but firm tone, by one behind. He turned and
beheld Epicharis.
274
MARTYRDOM.
"You say well, Subrius Flavius—the day is
approaching, and there is work for us both ere
it dawn. Hasten to seek the holy man-for
there will be need of the sword ere another sun
shall rise."
"Thou knowest, then," replied the tribune,
'my purpose to visit the Christian of Pausi-
lippo ?"
"I came from my prison to warn the daugh-
ter of Metellus of the approaching danger, and
from her lips I learned thine errand. But it
boots not, tribune! Thou canst not now re-
trace thy steps if thou wouldst; at this mo-
ment the Prætorian cohorts are treading the
shores of Baiæ, and Piso and Scevinus are the
objects of their search."
"Woman!" exclaimed Flavius in a strong
tone of incredulity, while the paleness of his
cheek betrayed his apprehension, "you jest
with my feelings."
"Jest!" repeated Epicharis in a voice half
scornful, half indignant, "it were but a poor
jest to sport with the danger which threatens
us all, at this moment-with the bitter, mad-
dening delay of our eager hopes-with the ag-
ony which is here," she added, laying her
hand upon her breast, "and will endure until
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
275
this work be accomplished. But go forward,
and do thine errand."
"My errand here is done,” replied the tri-
bune, "if what thou sayest be true."
"Behold, then !" replied Epicharis, "he
comes to thee: holy father, this is the soldier
of whom I spake.”
The aged man approached and gazed upon
the tribune with a countenance in which mourn-
ful sympathy was the predominant expression.
"It is too late, my son," he said, “I have
been apprized of this visit, and of your object
in seeking me. Soldier! the disciples of the
Redeemer war not with carnal weapons-nei-
ther can his cause be promoted by violence."
"But our wrongs, venerable man," Flavius
began.
"The Lord hath said, 'Vengeance is mine,
and I will recompense.' Let your appeal be to
the justice of Rome-to the Senate-but for-
bear to raise the sword. Yet, it is too late, as
I have said, even for this. The devices of the
conspirators have come to nought-I have
sought thee for another purpose. The maiden
thou lovest is in danger of falling a prey to li-
centious and cruel men. She is already accused
as a Christian, and to-morrow will be cast into
276
MARTYRDOM.
prison. Go thou to the Emperor, and demand
her rescue with that of Dobella. The oath of
a Roman soldier will be sufficient to free them
from the false charge which is brought against
them. Go; there is yet time for this-"
"For this, and for much more," said Epi-
charis, bitterly, "were the heart of Subrius
Flavius the heart of a soldier, indeed!"
"Forbear, my daughter," replied the aged
Christian, "this cannot be. God has appoint-
ed other issues, and will manifest his glory in
the sufferings and constancy of his chosen ones.
But to free the brave and young from unjust
persecution is always an acceptable service.
Wilt thou undertake this, tribune ?"
"I will,” replied Flavius, "I will first visit
the villa of Metellus, lest the blow should have
descended already, and then I will seek the
Emperor. It may at least delay what it can-
not prevent."
"Dost thou think that the tiger will resign
his prey after that he has tasted of blood ?” ·
asked Epicharis, passionately.
"Miserable
self-deceiver, there is but one way to escape
from the danger, and may heaven nerve thee
when that way shall open itself before thee.
No, Flavius, when once the prison doors of the
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
277
tyrant have closed upon thy friends, let thy
hope expire."
The tribune was silent, for the uncertainty
and danger of his position pressed heavily up-
on his mind. Personal fears he had none; but
the welfare of the friends so dear, so honored,
seemed to depend upon his efforts alone. The
aged Christian noticed the cloud upon his brow,
and read its meaning.
X
"Fear not, soldier," he said, "for there is a
higher power than man's engaged for those
thou lovest. Go; do thy duty patiently and
bravely, and doubt not the issue. And thou,
daughter of misguided zeal," he said, turning to
Epicharis, "it is not yet too late for thee to
humble thyself at the foot of the cross. Thou
hast seen the vanity of the arm of flesh.”
The glow of excitement enkindled again in
the eloquent features of the Greek, as she fixed
her brilliant eyes upon the countenance of the
recluse. It was a glance, not of repentance
or regret, but of fixed and inflexible determin-
ation.
"The arm of flesh," she said, "is strength-
ened from on high; it will be upheld by the
hand of God. There is no faltering here, for
my heart knows its work. Father to that
24
278
MARTYRDOM.
day when all earthly things shall be made
manifest to the light, I look for my approval
Human praise or censure cannot
or reward.
move me."
"Then may God judge thee in mercy," re-
plied the recluse: "though my voice is too fee-
ble to win thee from thine errors, I will not
forget thee in my prayers. Farewell; my
heart tells me that we shall meet again, ere
many days."
He raised his hands toward heaven, and
spake the words of benediction, while Epicha-
ris and the tribune reverently bowed their heads
as he spake. The brief silence which suc-
ceeded recalled each to the pressing business of
the night.
"Thy way," said Epicharis, "lies toward
the villa of Metellus. Mine conducts me back
to my prison. Farewell; and when thou
comest into the presence of Nero, take counsel
of thine own heart, and be strong to do that
which it shall prompt."
As she spake, she moved from his side, and
quickly disappeared within the recesses of the
wood.
"Didst thou hear nought, my son ?" asked
the aged Christian, after a few moments, while
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
279
Flavius lingered in his presence, as if there was
something yet unspoken upon his mind. "Me-
thinks mine ear caught but now the sound of
many feet upon the highway."
The tribune slightly changed his position,
and stood erect and attentive. It was not long
before he was enabled to distinguish the sounds
to which his companion alluded. They arose
distinctly and regularly above the monotonous
murmur of the waters upon the shore, and the
deep rustling of the exuberant foliage stirred by
the night breezes.
"They draw near," again said the recluse,
laying his hand upon the arm of the tribune;
"let us retire within the grotto. If there is
danger connected with their presence, we may
perchance learn how to avoid it. These may
be the soldiers of whom the woman spake
to us."
A
He led the way with a noiseless but firm step
to the entrance of a natural grotto, from one
side of which the artificial excavation of the
Roman Emperors took its commencement.
descent of a few steps placed them upon the
floor of dry and solid rock, which was of equal
elevation through the entire area of the cham-
ber. The walls were irregular in height; on one
280
MARTYRDOM.
hand rising only a few feet between the floor
and the roof, and on the other stretching up-
ward behind the heavy curtain of stalactite, in
conical openings of various degrees of uniform-
ity. A dim light issuing from a natural recess
in the rock, within which were seen a pallet of
the mountain moss, and a few articles of rus-
tic furniture, designated the place used by the
inhabitant of the grotto for the purposes of
retirement and devotion. All else was left in
the wildness and vacancy of nature.
The tribune looked around him with a curi-
osity not unmingled with sympathy for one
thus entirely cut off from the common enjoy-
ments of life. The age and apparent decrepi-
tude of his companion seemed to demand a
habitation less rude and less remote from the
presence of those who might minister to his
wants, and relieve his infirmities.
"And is it here," he asked, "that you are
compelled to spend the last years of a life of
labor and self-devotion? Surely, father, the
Christians owe thee a debt of gratitude which
such desertion can but feebly repay."
"Think not, my son," replied the recluse,
"that I have chosen this retirement with the
view of separating myself from the labors to
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
281
which my life has been devoted, or from want
of sympathy with my fellow disciples. No; it
is here that I may best afford advice to the fee-
ble-minded and the persecuted. It is here that
I am enabled to be about my Master's business,
in a way best suited to my remaining strength.
This cell has been the gathering-place of the
disciples: these walls have heard the voice of
their united prayers, and echoed to their songs
of praise. Here the holy Paul has preached
the Gospel of salvation-"
66
And here," interrupted the tribune, almost
involuntarily, “Julia Metella first listened to
the words of the Christian doctrine !"
"You say truly," replied the recluse, "and
it was here that I was permitted to prepare
her for the holy rite of baptism. Soldier, I
have been told that the maiden is dear to your
heart."
"She is my betrothed," replied Flavius, with
increased interest in his tone.
His companion mused for a moment in si-
lence, and then drawing a roll of parchment
from his bosom, answered:
"The way before thee lies through trial and
suffering; and the hour may come when there
shall be no marrying or giving in marriage.
24*
282
MARTYRDOM.
My heart yearns over thee, my son, as over one
whom God has led by a way thou as yet know-
est not-to the threshold of His kingdom. In
this scroll thou wilt find the record of all that
Jesus did and taught while He sojourned
among men. Study it with prayer and may
the Eternal Spirit enlighten thy mind, and
strengthen thy heart. And now-be silent and
observe."
Through the irregular mouth of the grotto
they were enabled to command a view of the
space above, now strongly illuminated by the
clear moonlight, while their own position was
comparatively safe from observation. The reg-
ular and measured step of a numerous compa-
ny convinced the tribune that it was indeed one
of the Prætorian bands which approached
them. Ere long the advanced section came in-
to view, and he laid his hand upon his sword,
as he discerned the person of Tigellinus himself
between the chief centurions of the Imperial
body guard. Controlling his emotion, he
watched, with breathless anxiety, the passage
of the band across the field of view, and his
worst apprehensions were realized, as he beheld,
in the midst of the silent soldiery, a closely
covered litter, borne by four Nubian slaves, and
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
283
carefully guarded by the crossed arms of the
troop. His first impulse was to rush from his
concealment, and attempt the rescue of the
prisoners; but the hand of his companion,
with a grasp almost beyond the power of age,
was already on his arm.
66
'Do not this rashness," he whispered in his
ear, "for thou wilt spend thy strength in vain.
The time is come when thou must present thy-
self before Nero. Tarry till these men of blood
have passed with their victims, and then speed
thee through the grotto to the stables of Lucan."
Flavius released his arm with some effort
from the grasp of the aged man, and gazed up-
on his white and passionless features in aston-
ishment.
"Listen, then," replied the other calmly,
"and thou wilt hear the orders of the prefect.
The prisoners are destined to the prisons of the
amphitheatre."
As Flavius again raised his eyes to the mouth
of the grotto, he became painfully conscious of
the madness of any attempt at rescue. A far
more numerous and well appointed band than
the nature of the service seemed to require, fol-
lowed after the litter. And as he looked, he
heard the directions of Tigellinus.
284
MARTYRDOM.
"Convey the prisoners to the strong cham-
bers of the amphitheatre-and thou, Volusius
Proculus, see that thou guard them well and
in all respect, until farther orders under the
Emperor's signet."
"Thank God, my father," was heard in a
tone which thrilled to the heart of the tribune,
while it cooled the fever of his apprehension-
"thank God, we are not yet to be separated."
A strong party under the command of Proc-
ulus, separated itself in obedience to this com-
mand from the main body of the troops, and,
with the litter in their midst, turned towards
the ascent where stood the magnificent amphi-
theatre of Puteoli.
"Farewell, noble Piso-farewell, friends,"
was heard in the calm, firm voice of Metellus,
66 we shall meet again when Rome shall know
her own."
66
"Forward!" shouted the prefect, in loud
and impatient accents. "And thou, Sylla,
wilt return with these to the traitorous den
wherein their foul plots were hatched. Nero
will indeed sup with Piso on the morrow, but
the feast will be an indifferent one to some.
Forward! and remember that the Emperor
visits Baiæ ere another sun shall set."
THE GROTTO OF PAUSILIPPO.
285
"Thou hast heard, my son," said the recluse
to Flavius, as the footsteps of the retreating
parties died away; "God has guided thee
hither, that thou mightest know their devices.
Farewell: thou canst reach Rome ere the barge
of the courtier shall approach the shores of the
Tiber. Attempt no violence, but seek the Em-
peror at once, and be bold in thy speech, for
the time requires it."
"If the ear of justice is shut, this hand will
know its work,” replied the tribune, with deep
emotion.
"Forbear!" answered the recluse solemnly,
and raising his finger towards heaven. "In
the name of God, I command thee to use no
violence. And remember that the Christian
maiden will shrink from the presence of him
on whom rests the curse of blood."
Flavius ventured no reply, but rushed from
the grotto, and rapidly took his way towards
the villa of Lucan. Leaving him to pursue his
doubtful mission, with the results of which
only it is necessary that the reader should be
acquainted, we pass on to the remaining inci-
dents of our history.
CHAPTER VI.
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO.
It is worth
A sacrifice. Come, friend! Be noble-minded!
Our own heart, not other men's opinions,
Forms our true honor.
WALLENSTEIN.
THE autumnal sun was again descending
from his meridian, when the gorgeous train
of the Emperor, glittering with polished steel
and gold, swept through the grotto of Pausi-
lippo, and ascended the gentle acclivity toward
his favorite country seat. This was the place
appointed for the trial of those engaged in the
conspiracy, the leading particulars of which,
as we have seen, were discovered on the pre-
ceding day.
The Golden House of Nero, so called from
the resemblance it bore to the magnificent
structure of the same name within the bounds
of the capital, was situated near the temple of
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO. 287
Jupiter Serapis, the site of which is to this day
designated by its imperishable remains of Egyp-
tian architecture. The gilded front of the por-
tico rose directly over the broad highway of Pu-
teoli, and the elevated tower in the rear com-
manded a view of the varied scenery in the
vicinity, and overlooked the amphitheatre be-
yond.
The preparations within the spacious walls.
of the villa denoted an occasion of unusual in-
terest. The central hall was lined with soldiers
of the imperial body-guard, while a body of
men in the senatorial garb occupied a platform
in its eastern extremity. Within the open
space below a company of Nubian slaves stood
erect and motionless as so many statues, each
with his eyes bent upon the heavy curtains of
purple and gold, which separated the hall from
the private apartments of the Emperor.
Ere long a movement among the guards an-
nounced his approach. The curtains were
drawn aside by the obedient slaves, and Nero
entered, accompanied by Tigellinus, Seneca,
and others, and took his seat upon the throne,
in the midst of the senators. His countenance
was flushed with excitement; his eye had lost
its mild expression, and flashed with unwonted
288
MARTYRDOM,
fire. Yet his step was uncertain, and his hand
trembled upon his staff.
"It is well, my lords," he said, looking
around him with a quick and somewhat sus-
picious glance; let the prisoners be arraigned.
Scevinus and Antonius Natalis have been con-
fronted with Milichus, and examined apart.
Let Natalis be summoned again to our pres-
ence, and ye shall judge, illustrious senators,"
he added, turning again to the tribunal, "wheth-
er our fears have been groundless!"
The sound of iron was heard upon the mar-
ble floor of the opposite entrance, and in an-
other moment the prisoner, cruelly fettered and
guarded by six or eight soldiers, was conducted
into the centre of the hall.
"There is yet time for confession," said Ne-
ro with an angry brow, and speaking in con-
fused and hurried accents, "there is yet time
for confession, vile man, but the hour of clem-
ency will quickly pass.'
""
A deadly paleness had overspread the counte-
nance of Natalis, but his voice was firm as he
replied:
"I have nothing to confess, august Cæsar.
I have nothing to urge against the base false-
hoods of a slave, except the integrity of my life,
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO.
289
and my honorable career as a citizen of Rome.”
"Away with him, then, to the rack!" ex-
claimed Nero, his features crimsoned with rage.
"But stay," he added, springing to his feet,
"let the rack be brought hither-we will our-
selves put him to the question."
A faint murmur of disapprobation ran through
the group of senators at this proposal. Nero
understood its meaning, and his features relax-
ed in a malicious smile.
"Let us not shrink, my lords, from this ne-
cessary trial of our mercy. Perchance fear will
do that which clemency cannot effect."
"The dignity of this assembly, my prince,"
replied Seneca, with a calm look towards the
"will not be tarnished by the necessary
group,
severities of justice."
"Hear me, Cæsar," exclaimed Natalis wild-
ly, as the terrible instruments of torture were
laid by the slaves at the foot of the throne.
"Let the grave Seneca be the first to endure
the torture, for he has more to confess than
many who are already in bonds."
The philosopher started at this unexpected
declaration; but the undisturbed repose of his
features proved how thoroughly he was enabled
to control his emotions. "Et tu Brute !" said
25
290
MARTYRDOM.
Nero, darting a look of dark suspicion at his
preceptor, which the latter met firmly, without.
deigning a reply, except by a smile of serene
indifference.
t.
"I accuse Caius Piso, and Seneca," said
Natalis, now thoroughly overcome by his fears,
"I accuse Julius Metellus, Lucan, and Flavi-
the tribune. Let them be confronted with
me before the rack, and I will prove their
guilt."
us,
"These are already accused," replied Nero,
glancing meaningly at Tigellinus. "Wilt thou
also charge Fenius Rufus and Scevinus ?"
"I do," replied the trembling senator.
"It is enough," said Nero, "away with him,
and let Metellus be brought."
But Seneca advanced and stood before him
with an air in which violated confidence and
offended pride struggled together for expres-
sion. He cast himself upon his knees at Nero's
feet, and was about to speak, when the latter
interrupted him.
"Arise, Seneca," he said, "I fear not such
as thou, were there a thousand conspiracies ly-
ing together in that scheming rabin. Per
hercle! man, is it not thy trade ?”
"Alas! my prince," replied the philosopher,
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO. 291
7
"you do me wrong. I would wipe away this
foul blot of suspicion."
"That thou shalt do," answered Nero, with
singular levity of manner, "when we are in
counsel together. Is it not proof enough that
I do not credit this man, that thou art free?
What wouldst thou more? And now, Tigel-
linus, to our work."
"The prefect advanced, and bowing reverent-
ly to the tribunal, exclaimed in a loud voice:
"I accuse Varus Dobella and Julius Metel-
lus, with the foul crimes of conspiracy and athe-
ism-of an attempt against the sacred life of
the Emperor, such as we have heard-and of
connexion with the Christian dogs in the de-
struction of Rome! My own testimony to
this accusation has been laid before the Em-
peror."
"The prefect says truly," replied Nero, "let
them be brought hither."
At a significant gesture from Tigellinus,
Volusius Proculus darted from the hall. The
silence of expectation which en sued, was soon
broken by the arrival of the accused, but the
expression of surprise which burst from the
lips of the Emperor announced something of
unexpected interest in their appearance. All
292
MARTYRDOM,
eyes were riveted upon the advancing group-
and the cheek of Tigellinus grew crimson with
anger, as he discerned the form of Julia Metel-
la, leaning upon the arm of her father, and the
tall figure and noble countenance of the tri-
bune following close behind them. The faith-
ful Salome attended her mistress, and both
were closely veiled.
"Whom have we here ?" asked the Emperor
of the courtier, with unfeigned astonishment,
which was in no wise relieved by the sight of
the troubled countenance of the latter. "I
behold Dobella, and Metellus, but the tribune.
comes unbidden-and the females-"
"I come, Cæsar," exclaimed Flavius, before
the courtier could reply, "to protect the inno-
cent and to bring the guilty to justice. I come
to vindicate Varus Dobella from the vile charge
which is brought against him, and to proclaim
the honor of Julius Metellus."
The Emperor cast a hasty look around upon
the guards, and threw himself farther back upon
his seat.
"Thou art thyself," he said, "among the
accused!"
"For myself," answered the tribune, "the
vindication will come in its own time. I have
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO. 293
sought thee in vain, O Cæsar! since midnight.
That noble soldier," pointing to Dobella, "is
accused of connexion with the Christians in
promoting the late burning of the city. By
the honor of a soldier, he and they are innocent
of the foul charge. Julius Metellus is accused
of the same crime-he will answer for himself,
and there are those present who will support
his assertions.'
""
Nero glanced again at Tigellinus, who ad-
vanced and replied:
"On the awful night of the conflagration,
Varus Dobella led on the Christians, banding
them together, as hundreds of the German
soldiery have already attested, in the secret
chambers of the tombs-and there resisting the
authority of the laws. I myself was sorely
wounded by the sword of a Christian. On
that night many of the Christians were seen
exulting over the progress of the flames, of
whom, Selumiel, one well known to us all, by
his fierce and blinded zeal, perished in the very
act."
"Hast thou aught to answer against this
charge, Varus Dobella ?" said Nero, not with-
out some show of agitation-" if so, speak, for
the ears of justice are open."
25*
294
MARTYRDOM.
"There is one,” replied Dobella, "whom He
that rules the affairs of men has brought here
to speak for me. If it be a crime to be a
Christian, then am I guilty, indeed-but of
the burning of the city, I am innocent."
A fierce murmur rolled through the assembly
at the bold avowal of Dobella, and the counte-
nance of Nero was lit up with a smile of grati-
fication as he heard it. But when Metellus
advanced to the throne, the murmur sub-
sided.
"Were Caius Piso here," he began, "he
could testify with me as to the justice of this
charge against the Christians. Let the sena-
tors of Rome be the judges of my integrity,
when I say, that I myself saw the slaves of the
imperial household engaged in that base work.”
66
Beware!" cried a warning voice from the
crowd, in which Flavius imagined that he re-
cognized the tones of Sulpicius Asper. But
Metellus proceeded, regardless of the interrup-
tion:
"For one," he said, "I deny not the crime,
if crime it be, of conspiracy against thy life,
degenerate Cæsar! That crime were now a
virtue in every true-hearted citizen of Rome."
The tumult produced by this unshrinking
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO. 295
confession was hushed almost as soon as it be-
gan, by the earnest and thrilling accents of a
woman's voice. Nero started to his feet, as
Julia Metella cast herself upon her knees be-
fore the throne, and unveiled her features. The
surpassing loveliness of the maiden was not
lost even upon him. He advanced to raise her
from her position-but she shrank from his
extended hand, while the large brilliant tears
coursed down her flushed cheek, and her lips
quivered with emotion.
"Spare him," she cried, "dread Cæsar! and
urge him not to speak those desperate words.
Let my own worthless life be offered up in ex-
change for his. Spare him, as you hope for
mercy in heaven."
Hard-hearted and selfish as he was, the Em-
peror could not altogether resist an appeal like
this, from the lips of such a petitioner. His
brow lost something of its angry expression,
and he looked doubtingly at Tigellinus. The
latter stood as one enchained by a spell-ad-
miration and surprise having wholly overcome,
for the time, the more malignant passions of
his heart.
"Thy life, maiden," at length he said--
"And mine!" exclaimed Flavius, as, hurried
296
MARTYRDOM,
}.
forward by the torrent of his feelings, he flung
himself at the side of his beloved, "let us die
together, but save the life of Metellus."
At this new interruption, Tigellinus started
forward as if stung by a serpent. He flung
himself upon the kneeling form of the tribune
and snatched a dagger from his robe which he
held aloft before the eyes of the assembly.
"This is he, my prince!" he exclaimed,
"once chosen to be the first to send the dagger to
thy heart. This is he who has even now sought
thy presence with this sacrilegious intent."
He had calculated well upon the fears of the
tyrant. The transient emotions of admiration
and pity excited by the generous but fruitless
self-devotion of the maiden, vanished before
the apprehension of his own danger.
"The daughter of Metellus," continued Ti-
gellinus, pursuing the advantage which he saw
he had gained, "lies under accusation as a
Christian."
"Let her be brought to the trial with the
rest on the morrow; for this malignant super-
stition must be crushed wherever its seeds have
been cast. And thou, traitorous tribune! what
punishment is due to the soldier who basely
violates his oath of allegiance to his prince ?"
THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF NERO. 297
"Cæsar, I come but now from the death-
bed of Lucan, whom the sword of treachery
has already reached. He died as a hero (9)—
let me die as a Christian !"
"Away with him, then, to the prisons of the
amphitheatre!" replied the prince, "and let
him die there in such companionship as he
craves. Hear ye this, O Romans! the atheism
of these miscreants has robbed Rome of one of
the most beautiful of her daughters, and con-
taminated the hearts of her best soldiery."
"Hear me yet one word," said Flavius, as he
stood erect with the grasp of the slave upon
his arm.
"There was a time, Cæsar, when no
soldier in your army was more devoted to your
service; and that was as long as you deserved.
the esteem of mankind. I began to hate you
when you were guilty of parricide; when you
murdered your mother and destroyed your wife;
when you became a coachman, a comedian, an
incendiary."
As he heard this, the form of the Emperor
literally shook with rage. He grasped convul-
sively the offered arm of Seneca, and gestured
to Tigellinus to order the prisoners from the
hall.
CHAPTER VII.
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
Yea, she doth smile and she doth weep,
Like a youthful hermitess,
Beauteous in a wilderness,
Who praying always, prays in sleep.
*
*
*
*
But this she knows, in joys and woes,
That heaven will aid if men will call,
For the blue heaven bends over all.
*
CHRISTABEL.
ROM the narrow, grated windows of her
prison chamber, Julia Metella sat watching
the changes of the varied and beautiful land-
scape below, until the twilight faded away, and
the stars came out upon the sky. For more
than one weary hour her eye had dwelt upon
the spot where the home of her youth lay em-
bowered amidst the groves of Baiæ. She saw
the pleasant portico by the water side, and the
barges sleeping upon the wave; she almost fan-
cied that she could discern the shifting of the
foliage, and the autumnal flowers in the court
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
299*
bowing their heads to the departing light; she
almost fancied that she heard the murmurs of
the fountains in the garden walks. With mel-
ancholy interest she watched the flight of the
birds toward their nests in the quiet woods, for
each seemed to her as a familiar form, a thing
which she had loved, and with which she had
held companionship in her happiest hours.
How often, on such an evening, had she found
her highest enjoyment in those sacred domestic
rites which now were to be renewed no more
around that shrine of peace and of love. How
often had she there watched for her father's ap-
proving smile, which, from her earliest years,
had been the sunshine of her spirit. In that
beautiful and secluded retreat had love's roseate
morning been passed-there had the first cloud
obscured its horizon. She thought of the gath-
erings around the domestic altar of the de-
lightful converse-of the enthusiasm inspired
by the lay of the poet, and the page of the
orator of the long, brilliant hours devoted to
the enjoyments of friendship, or the willing
offices of filial love. That dear spot was peo-
pled, for the moment, in fancy's eye, with its
accustomed forms, and seemed radiant once
more with the light of the "old familiar faces."
300
MARTYRDOM.
The spell was lifted from the past, and the
voices of its old music floated again to her ear.
Who can wonder that amidst such thoughts.
and recollections, the hour was one of deep mel-
ancholy, softened, and only softened, by emo-
tions, which at any other time, it would have
been unmingled joy to feel. But amidst all
the gloom and danger, the pressure of present
affliction, and the certainty of severer trial in
the future, no regret for the avowal she had
made of the Christian profession, came over her
heart. This, indeed, was her support and
solace; and her soul thrilled with joy when she
dwelt upon the hope of meeting her beloved
friends again on the peaceful shores of that
heavenly country, which faith shows most dis-
tinctly amidst the thickest darkness that broods
over all the roaring waters of time. In leading
the heart of her father and her lover, "by ways
which they knew not," to the knowledge, to the
experience of the power of the truth-what a
motive for gratitude and praise to God! How
holy seemed now the tie which bound her to
both-how exquisitely dear the tender affec-
tion of the one, and the earnest devoted love
of the other.
Motionless as the stone which rose above
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
301
them, Salome sat at her feet, with her eyes
bent upon the same enchanting scene. Her
features were paler than before, but there was
in all, even in the large brilliant eye, the same
calm, subdued expression which they had worn
in happier moments. Now and then she lifted
her eyes to the countenance of her mistress,
and then her glance returned to the scene with-
out.
At length, the broad red orb of the moon
arose above the distant horizon, beyond the
spot where the outline of the mountains
blended with the plain. The front of the tem-
ple of Jupiter Serapis, (10) immediately in view
of her prison, was lit up by the gloomy splen-
dor, and the stone towers beyond, reflected it
yet more gloomily. As she looked upon it, the
sense of her lonely and deserted situation came
upon her mind with a power which she could
not resist. There was, at such a moment,
something ominous in its bloody and threaten-
ing aspect. It brought afresh the appalling
images of persecution-of the sore trial-of the
ignominious death. She turned from the win-
dow, and as the faint light faded from her fea-
tures, rendered more touchingly beautiful by
the impress of sorrow, a few large, glittering
302
MARTYRDOM,
tears rolled down her cheek, and the deep, long-
drawn sigh of exhausted and suffering nature,
escaped her lips. She scarcely heeded the pres-
ence of her companion, and by that quick sym-
pathy which always exists between hearts
which understand each other, the latter quietly
rose and took her seat in the corner of the
prison. She had judged rightly. Julia had
desired to be alone with her own heart and with
her God.
To whom, indeed, could she go, but to Him
who protects the afflicted, and treasures up the
tears of all His servants? Into whose ears
could she breathe the overwhelming burden of
sorrow that lay upon her heart, but the ears
of Him who has promised to hear the cry of all
who love Him? In the deep affliction-the
gloom, the almost despair of that hour, there
was one ray of blessed, glorious hope undimmed,
and it guided her soul through the thick dark-
ness, to the throne of Him
"Who ceaseth not
To watch his saints alway."
She fell upon her knees and lifted up her stream-
ing eyes to heaven-and her spirit was bowed
in the holiness of prayer.
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
303
"Lamb of God," such were the broken ac-
cents of her supplication, "Lamb of God, that
takest away the sins of the world, save me, oh
save me from despair! Blessed Redeemer,
accept my contrition, and bow my stubborn
heart entirely to thy gracious will: If I have
erred in the purpose of saving my father from
the hands of his enemies, thou, Lord, who read-
est the heart, pardon what thou hast seen
amiss in it, and as thou hast ordered otherwise,
give me the grace to discern the wisdom of
thine appointment. Strengthen, prepare me
for what yet awaits me, and as thou canst
cause thy name to be glorified in the weakest,
grant that I may be faithful unto the end."
She bent her head, and for a few moments
was silent. The moonlight was now streaming
through the grated window, and it fell upon
her loosened tresses and delicate form, like the
very light of heaven, as if enshrining her in its
embrace. As she continued to kneel, the sor-
row at her heart gave place to Christian grat-
itude, and the accents of supplication were
changed to the voice of thanksgiving.
"I thank thee, O my Saviour, for the love
which has brought my father and my betrothed
to the knowledge of thy truth. I thank thee
304
MARTYRDOM.
for the confidence that thou wilt give them
strength in the evil day, and power to with-
stand all the arts of the tempters. Build them
up, O Christ, in thy most holy faith. Pour
into their hearts the abundance of thy Spirit,
and give them strength and consolation, in
the hours of peril and distress, according to
their need."
She arose from her knees, and her eye was
calm in its surpassing beauty, and her smile
was as peaceful and radiant as the smile of an
angel of heaven. She heard the sobs of Sal-
ome, and advanced to her side, taking the hand
of the latter in her own.
tr
"A few more hours, Salome!" she said, "and
all our tears will be dried. A few more hours,
and we shall all be happy in the rest of Para-
dise. Weep not, my sister, for a sister you
have indeed been to me; weep not."
“O, my mistress,” replied the Judæan, "these
are tears of joy; my heart is full, and it seeks
relief in tears. For us, it is now 'gain to die.'
And yet," she added, suddenly, "it was fearful
to witness what I saw but now. Epicharis is
no more on earth !”
"How died she?" asked Julia, and as she
noted the sorrowful expression that came over
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
305
the features of her companion, she repeated the
question: "How died she, Salome ?"
"As she lived!” replied the other in choked
accents; "as she lived. Her strange delusion
held to the last. She gloried in her crime, but
would neither confess aught as to her accompli-
ces, nor express aught of remorse. They put
her to the torture. Every limb writhed with
pain, but she smiled proudly upon her tormen-
tors, and expired with the secret unrevealed."
"There is mercy with heaven," replied Julia,
shuddering at the brief but graphic recital;
"were any of the brethren with her in her last
moments ?"
"None-none," answered the Judæan, "Fla-
vius stood by, awaiting his own summons to
the torture-but oh! my mistress-"
A deadly paleness overspread the counte-
nance of Julia as she heard the reply of her
attendant. She reeled for a moment, uncer-
tainly, and then fell in Salome's outstretched
arms.
66
They dared not," she faintly said, brokenly
and at intervals, "oh no, they dared not."
"You say well, my mistress," replied Salome
in quick and eager accents, "they did not put
him to the rack."
306
MARTYRDOM.
A long, heavy sigh testified that the assur-
ance had not fallen in vain upon the ear of the
Roman maiden. Yet she lay for another mo-
ment insensible, and then opening her eyes lan-
guidly, a sickly smile broke over her features.
"What saidst thou of Flavius ?" she said
with effort; "speak, for I can hear it-but,
oh no!-not the torture-saidst thou the tor-
ture ?"
"I did not,” replied Salome, gently soothing
the fears of the sufferer, more by her looks
than her words.
“Thank heaven !" fervently exclaimed Julia,
"speak on then, Salome, for I am strong now."
"The dying woman," continued the other,
"smiled with strange meaning upon the trib-
une, as a change in her position gave some
respite to her pains, and spake these words,
pointing upwards with the unfettered arm-
'Christian soldier, after the resurrection we
shall meet in heaven, and there is One to judge
us there.'
229
"Alas!" murmured the maiden, "she had
much to be pardoned, and she suffered much.
Said she nought else ?"
"She left a message for thee, my mistress,
but I fear to speak it at this hour."
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
307
"Mistrust me not," replied the maiden anx-
iously, "for the weakness of my woman's heart;
speak on, Salome.”
"She spake of thine espousals and of the
white robe in which the Lamb shall claim thee
for his own. A ray of her old beauty gleamed
over her wasted features, as she added, looking
on the tribune, 'Ye shall be united, but not on
earth-and the saints in bliss are like the an-
gels in heaven.' ”
A flood of brilliant tears poured down the
cheek of the Roman virgin as she listened to
these words, on which a faint blush was visible,
so innocently pure, so beautiful, that it seemed,
indeed, born of heaven. She replied not, but
pressed the hand of Salome in silent gratitude.
Sweet was the converse they held together
during the brief half hour yet allowed to the
stay of the attendant, and the last precious
moments of that time were again devoted to
prayer.
"I will visit thee again at midnight, beloved
mistress," whispered Salome, in the ear of the
other, as she prepared to obey the summons of
the guard, "for I have that which can win its
way even through walls of stone."
Julia continued kneeling on the same spot
308
MARTYRDOM.
where her attendant had left her, and the time
passed silently and unheeded away. How
blest, if thus it had worn on to the midnight
hour!
The grating of the prison door on its hinges
of iron, ere long aroused her from her medita-
tion. She stood upon her feet, and hastily
veiled her features, as she observed a tall form,
completely enveloped in a military cloak, ad-
vancing from the threshold. A sudden mis-
giving came over her heart, but it was momen-
tary. Then she stood firmly upon the stone
awaiting the movements of her visitor.
"I come to save you, maiden," said the in-
truder, in a voice which sent a thrill through
her frame; "to cast myself and my honors at
your feet.
Behold your suppliant." As he
said this, the cloak dropped from before his face
and revealed the noble but excited features of
Tigellinus.
"Behold your suppliant," he cried, dropping
on his knee. "Beautiful tyrant, you have
made me your slave, and I come that you may
forge the chain the closer, by the severing of
your own."
"Forbear this mockery, my lord," replied the
maiden, in a low but firm voice, "if you come
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
309
to insult my misery, it is but a poor office for
a noble and a soldier."
"Let me but look upon those features,"
added the courtier, while a crimson flush belied
the careless smile upon his lip, "and I will
speak my errand. Julia Metella, I bring thee
liberty."
Julia retreated a step from him, as she re-
plied, in the same firm, but gentle accents:
"I seek not my liberty, my lord, on the
terms which you will offer."
"Yet deign one moment," he added, rising,
"most lovely goddess, to smile upon me while
thou hearest them. It may be that they are
not altogether unworthy of the daughter of a
consul."
(C
Approach no nearer," she replied, as he
manifested a design of advancing, "but speak
and I will hear."
"Here,” he said, producing a scroll from the
folds of his tunic, and displaying the imperial
signature attached to it, "here is the warrant
for thy father's pardon thy father's safety and
thine own-if-if-
A convulsive sigh testified the struggle that
had already commenced in her bosom, and ar-
rested his words for a moment. He resumed :
310
MARTYRDOM.
"If thou wilt be mine."
"And the alternative ?" she asked, flinging
the veil from her brow, and meeting the bold
gaze of her persecutor with a bright, firm eye.
"Speak not of the alternative, thou fairer
than Venus," he cried; "be mine, and here are
safety, riches, honor-the noblest palaces of
Rome-the luxuries of every clime-"
66
'Forbear," she said, interrupting him.-
"Thine I can never be, for my heart is vowed
to another."
"He dies," responded Tigellinus passionately,
as an angry frown darkened his brow. "He
dies with to-morrow's sun. He dies the death
of a traitor."
The lips of the maiden quivered slightly, but
ner voice was unbroken, as she replied:
"Heaven, my lord, will care for its own. If
these are the terms you offer, I have but one
reply, and that reply you have already heard."
"Provoke me not, maiden," he exclaimed, as
the fire kindled in his eye, and he laid his hand
upon his dagger in sudden passion. Then, as
if ashamed of the unmanly threat, he added,
"But who can feel resentment, under the light
of those radiant eyes ?"
66
'My lord,” replied the other, again retreating
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
311
66
before him, my resolution is taken; thou
knowest I am a Christian-as a Christian I can
die."
"A Christian!" repeated Tigellinus, as a
bitter sneer curled his lip-ay, I forgot, and
as a Christian thou art already doomed. Speak
but the word, beautiful Julia, and I will snatch
thee from destruction: I-I will even call my-
self a Christian."
"Thou!" repeated she, recoiling, and a gleam
of beautiful disdain flashed for an instant across
her brow. The next moment a tear was on
her cheek, her eyes were upraised, and a half
uttered petition broke from her parted lips.
"Thou shalt be mine," exclaimed Tigellinus,
casting off all restraint, and seizing her veil,
which he essayed to tear from her head. Sur-
prised by the suddenness of the movement, she
trembled for an instant, and her form seemed
sinking to the ground; but the moment of
weakness and fear passed as rapidly as it came.
She freed herself from his rude grasp, and as
she did so, her eye fell upon the exposed hilt
of his dagger. The spirit of her father's house
inspired her, as she snatched the weapon from
its resting place, and held it before the breast.
of her persecutor. He fell back, amazed, before
312
MARTYRDOM.
the glittering steel, and then his astonishment
gave way to an affected laugh of scorn.
"Nay, maiden," he said, "weapons of steel
were not made for such delicate fingers."
"Stand back, miserable man!" she replied,
and there was unflinching determination in
her eye;
"the Christian can die, indeed, but
the Roman maiden can defend her honor !"
"Nay, then, thy Gods protect thee!" ex-
claimed Tigellinus, stung to madness by her
firmness, "if I must use violence-"
"Ho there, the guard without!" suddenly
cried out the maiden; as the thought of the
stern discipline of the Roman prisons inspired
a new hope, "protect the prisoners of the
state."
The door burst open, and the forms of the
guards darkened the door.
"Fool!" exclaimed the courtier, hastily con-
cealing his features; "thou hast cut off thine
only hope of safety. Thou hast sacrificed thy
sire, but thou canst not save thyself. I will
snatch thee even from the arena; and yet I will
delay my decision. When thou comest into
the amphitheatre, lift but thy hand in token
that thou wilt yet submit."
"Away!” replied the maiden, veiling her
THE PRISON CHAMBER.
313
eyes with her now trembling hands, as the dag-
ger dropped at the feet of the persecutor,
"away!"
The courtier turned away with a look, in
which admiration and malignity were strange-
ly blended. Scarcely deigning to notice the
faithful and resolute guards, he strode from the
apartment, and Julia of Baia was again alone.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE MIDNIGHT
HOUR.
"Dost thou then know thy destiny ?—that robe”—
"It is my nuptial robe," exclaimed the virgin: "but if all
is finished; if my spouse is pardoned and I am free, why
these tears, and this mystery ?"
CHATEAUBRIAND.
THE midnight hour was brilliant and serene,
Heide
and the soft full light of the moon, now
declining from the meridian, lay upon the floor
of the prison as brightly and peacefully as if it
slept on the mosaic of a palace. The fair in-
mate of that prison, over-wearied by suffering
and excitement, had committed herself to the
hard couch, to snatch a few moments of fever-
ed sleep. The tunic closely wrapped around
her form, and the veil only half put off from
her features, testified that she had not antici-
pated undisturbed repose. At the side of the
couch, with her eyes bent upon the placid and
sweet countenance of the sleeper, sat the un-
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR.
315
wearied Salome, the uncalled attendant of her
rest.
"Sleep on, beloved mistress," she murmured
at intervals, in the soft music of her native
tongue; "sleep on, sweet flower, for the dews
that water thy slumber-thy last slumber be-
neath the stars-will soon cause thee to awake
in the bloom and beauty of Paradise. Sleep
on, for the hours of thine earthly rest are num-
bered: but there remaineth a rest for the peo-
ple of God, where earthly cares interrupt not
the calm of the soul. But hark! they come!"
She arose silently from her place, and ad-
vanced with light, inaudible footsteps to the
door. The bolts were withdrawn, and the iron
helmet of a soldier appeared in the aperture,
but the features beneath it were obscured by a
silken visor. As if doubtful of his own move-
ments, he paused for a moment upon the
threshold where he stood, and his eye rapidly
scanned the situation of things within. Then,
as if reassured by the brief inspection, he ad-
vanced, and uncovered his face. The counte-
nance was unknown to the Judæan; but the
honest and animated look inspired confidence,
especially as he wore the garb and appoint-
ments of one in authority among the guards.
316
MARTYRDOM.
"He waits without," he said in a voice low,
indeed, but perfectly audible to Salome.
"Julius Metellus ?" inquired the Judæan,
in the same cautious tone.
"The same.
The tribune and the Chris-
tian will follow under the guidance of an-
other."
"And the guards of the prison ?" again in-
quired Salome, as she cast a suspicious glance
toward the door.
"Have consented to their admission, when
the credit of Sulpicius Asper is pledged,” re-
plied the centurion-for such he was-with a
meaning smile.
"Thanks, noble soldier, thanks !" replied the
Judæan, fervently, for the name was not un-
familiar to her ear. "I fear thou hast endan-
gered thine own safety ?"
"I would risk my life for him," replied the
centurion; and my only regret is, that my in-
fluence extends not to the guards of Dobella."
"Bringest thou any tidings of him ?" asked
the Judæan, anxiously.
"None, except that he bears his confinement
as a man and a soldier, and looks upon the
near approach of death with an untroubled eye.
"Shall I admit Metellus ?" he added, glancing
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR.
317
towards the couch on which Julia yet lay in
slumber.
"Admit him, generous Asper," replied Sa-
lome, as she advanced to the couch; "I will
prepare her for the interview."
Asper retired and returned quickly with
Metellus. The paleness upon the cheek of the
latter testified to the severity of his confine-
ment, but the old, grave smile sat upon his lip
-such a smile as he had been wont to wear
when the pressure of care was removed by the
cheerfulness and affectionate attentions of his
daughter.
"Thanks, Sulpicius Asper!" he said, as he
turned towards the retreating centurion; "you
have acted nobly towards us all."
"Nay, no thanks, my lord," the soldier re-
plied, "for I deserve them not. It was my
hand which first brought the accusation upon
Flavius, who is innocent of the death of that
wretch, Syphax. To-morrow I will proclaim
myself as the assassin, in the ears of all men.”
66 'And thou also art accused as an adherent
of Piso,” replied Metellus, with a proud smile.
"Not yet, not yet," replied the soldier, "else
were my authority this night less than you
know it to be. But that also shall be known."
27*
318
MARTYRDOM.
Do nothing rashly, soldier," answered the
patrician; "lives like thine are doubly pre-
cious now to Rome."
"My lord," rejoined Asper, solemnly, as he
waved a courteous farewell, "I am prepared to
die with my friends."
"Shall I awake her, my lord ?" asked Sa-
lome, as they stood together beside the couch
of the sleeper.
"Not yet, Salome," he answered; "let her
sleep on, while yet she may."
The Judæan retired to a distant part of the
chamber, and, kindling the lamp suspended
from the ceiling, sat down and veiled her
features.
"My daughter!" murmured Metellus (and
then he paused, for his heart was full,) and he
brushed away a tear that rolled, unbidden,
down his manly cheek—
"My daughter-beautiful and innocent, and
blessed as thou art, even in thy dreams-how
beautiful and how dear dost thou seem to me
now! Can it be," he added, and the remaining
words were lost, as he bent down and impressed a
fervent kiss upon her lips. "May Christ, in
whom thou dost trust, protect thee, when my
own eyes are closed in death !"
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR.
319
"Christ," faintly echoed the beautiful sleep-
er, as the holy name mingled with her dream,
Christ, he is mine, he is mine. Even so, my
Saviour, I hear thy call; I come, I come."
"6
Her father took her hand, and pressed it fer-
vently to his bosom. She opened her eyes,
and, dazzled by the light, closed them again.
"I see, I see," she murmured, "the golden
street, the light of the Jerusalem which is
above."
"Awake, my daughter, it is thy father who
calls thee," cried the patrician, raising the
slight form to his breast.
"My father," replied the maiden, wildly
gazing at him for a moment: and then, as a
sense of her true situation flashed upon her
mind, she leaned her head upon his neck, and
burst into tears. "Oh, my father, this is too
much happiness!"
They sat down together upon the couch,
and their conversation was long and earnest.
It was interrupted by the arrival of those
friends, who, by the kind attention of Asper,
had been promised admission to the chamber.
These were Subrius Flavius and the recluse of
Pausilippo.
Why should we dwell upon this meeting of
320
MARTYRDOM.
the betrothed: the last, as they both believed,
which should be allowed them on this side the
grave?
Ere the hour allotted to them had worn
away, the patrician advanced, and took the
hands of each. Salome, as she knelt in her re-
tired place, spake aloud :
"They have been lovely and pleasant in
their lives, and in death they shall not be
divided."
"It is true, my children," said Metellus, in
answer to the inquiring glance of both. "We
know not what danger, what fate worse than
death, heaven may yet have in store for us. But
it is right to guard against the craft and cruel-
ty of wicked men. Approach, venerable Chris-
tian, and unite these, my children, by the most
sacred of bonds."
"Father!" exclaimed Julia, with emotion,
as the recluse approached, and then bowed her
head, for she could not utter the question
which sprang to her lips.
"Fear not, my daughter," he said; "these
hands have poured the waters of baptism upon
the brow of all thou lovest."
"I am indeed a Christian," said Metellus,
kissing the pale brow of his daughter, and re-
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR.
321
suming her hand, "and now, Julia, if thou
canst bear it, this holy man will do his office."
A smile illuminated the features of the maid-
en, as she felt the pressure of the hand of her
betrothed. She arose, and stood at his side.
"Thine-thine only!" exclaimed the soldier,
"in life-in death."
5
"In death, indeed, my children," responded
Metellus; "but God's will be done."
The simple and beautiful ceremony was soon
completed, and when the prayers were over,
while the soldier and his bride yet knelt together
at the feet of the recluse, the weeping Salome
advanced with noiseless footstep, and placed a
single white rose in the hair of her mistress.
CHAPTER IX.
66
H
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI.
"Now I am ready; earthly friends are gone :
Angels and blessed spirits, to your fellowship
A few short pangs will bring me.
O thou, who on the cross for sinful men
A willing sufferer hung'st, receive my soul!"
JOANNA BAILLIE.
AST thou heard the news ?" said one
citizen to another, as they toiled to-
gether up the ascent which led to the amphi-
theatre of Puteoli.
"Seneca is dead," replied the other. I have
heard it all. He died nobly, it is true, poor
fellow! Such is the fate of all those who
serve the Emperor !"
"Hush!” replied the other, looking suspi-
ciously around, "of those who serve themselves,
you would say. To my mind, this luxurious
philosopher deserved his death. The warm
bath and the blood-letting were too good for
him."
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 323
"And yet he died with dignity."
"Dignity!" replied the other, with a sneer;
"dignity in an old man who has exhausted
life. So have I seen the Christian dogs go to
the shades with a dignity which would be beau-
tiful indeed, had not our eyes seen it so often.”
66
"Thou art an ungracious scoffer," said the
other, "and thou hast heard, also, I warrant
me, of the death of our famous poet, Lucan."
Yes, and of his cowardice, in giving up the
name of his mother as an accomplice in the
conspiracy," replied the universal cynic; "and
yet he died with his own words in his mouth :
Nec sicut vulnere sanguis
Emicuit lentus. Ruptis cadit undique venis
-Pars ultima trunci
Tradidit in lethum vacuos, vitalibus artus,
At tumidos qua pulmo jacet, qua viscera fervent
Hæserunt ibi fata diu: Luctataque multum
Hac cum parte, viri vix omnia membra tulerunt.
It would be strange, indeed, if he who has
described so many ways of dying, should not
be able to die himself without setting men's
tongues wagging.'
""
"But there will be noble game to-day, I
hear. Dobella and the daughter of Metellus,
who, it is said, is a Christian." -
324
MARTYRDOM.
"A Christian! When dreamedst thou that,
sage Verus ?" asked the other, in undisguised
incredulity.
"It is so, nevertheless," replied Verus, "and
she dies with her uncle. But see! they are
already preparing for the sacrifice;" pointing,
as they drew near, to the sacerdotal group
gathered beneath the gloomy portico of the
temple of Jupiter Serapis.
"I care not for the sacrifice," said his com-
panion, pressing forward, "but I will on to se-
cure a good seat in the amphitheatre. Per
hercle, man! the shows come but once a year,
and he is a fool who misses them for god or
victim."
The day was altogether favorable to the oc-
casion, which was about to assemble the popu-
lace within the walls of the amphitheatre; an
edifice, second in extent and splendor only to
that which, soon afterwards, under the munifi-
cent regin of Titus, arose to adorn the capitol.
It was indeed a magnificent structure, as the
brilliant light of the autumn day fell full upon
its semi-circular front of marble, which pre-
sented the appearance of several successive por-
ticos, beautifully ornamented, rising one upon
another to the summit. It was sufficiently
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 325
large to contain the vast multitude who were
wont to throng its walls from all parts of the
fertile and populous province of Campania, on
the celebration of the public shows. Already
the thronged roads, which led from the place
in every direction, testified the eagerness with
which the present opportunity of diversion was
hailed; and the jostling crowds at the entrance
of the several vomitories had already begun
to contend for the right of entrance with the
guards.
At one of these was a female in high expos-
tulation with some one who oppased her en-
trance, and her voice at times changed to the
accents of passionate entreaty.
"Let me enter, soldier," she said, "that I
may look upon the preserver of my child, and
upon the beautiful maiden who watched over
it with all the care and tenderness of a mother."
"Back woman," said the rough soldier,
"and betake thee to the temple."
66
nor
"I will not back," replied the woman ;
will I lose this last moment of grateful remem-
brance of my benefactor."
"She says well!" exclaimed one in the garb
of an artisan ; "there are many hearts that
will bleed for Julius Metellus this day. When
326
MARTYRDOM.
did the poor man ever solicit his aid in vain ?
Shame on thee, barbarian, to refuse this simple
desire of a grateful heart."
The guard flung himself back, and allowed
the petitioner to enter. At that moment, the
sounding of the trumpet announced the termi-
nation of the sacrificial rites, which was soon
followed by another peculiar blast, announcing
the approach of the imperial party. The mul-
titude gave way on each hand, and the glitter-
ing and gorgeous throng poured through the
gates of the interior.
The active efforts of the designatores, or
masters of the ceremonies insured order, by
quickly distributing the various ranks to the
places allotted to them, as they rushed through
the spacious vomitories. From the elaborately
ornamented railing which enclosed the podium,
or the most honorable place next the arena, to
the highest range of seats occupied by the fe-
males, the whole interior was densely crowded
long before the party of the Emperor entered
upon the scene, from the private chamber into
which they had been conducted to snatch a few
moments of repose, after the din and excite-
ment of the public procession. The podium
alone was comparatively free from occupants.
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 327
Instead of the august body of senators and for-
eign ambassadors, in the midst of which, on
similar occasions in the capital, the Cæsar was
wont to appear, his sudden summons had
brought together a few only of such of the sen-
ate as found it convenient to attend him, to-
gether with those patricians who still lingered
at their villas. The magnificent shows which
were to occupy the Circus Maximus on the fol-
lowing day, had already called to the metrop-
olis all those nobles who were unconcerned in
the conspiracy of Piso, or ignorant of its sud-
den discovery. Still, the imperial canopy,
gorgeous with silk and gold, arose proudly in
the centre of a brilliant and majestic group.
The vestal virgins stood in their places on
either wing of the canopy, clad in robes of
white bordered with purple, and their brows
adorned with the sacred fillets. In front of
these, and directly opposite to the altar, which
had been erected upon the arena, bearing the
mysterious fire, and the images of Jupiter,
Juno and Minerva, were the three flamens of
highest rank, whose presence seemed to indi-
cate that the occasion of the day was, in part
at least, a religious one. Behind the podium,
and arranged by centuries around the entire
328
MARTYRDOM.
circle of the amphitheatre, were the knights, a
gay and glittering throng, to whom the day was
sure to prove one of grateful excitement and
revel. And yet an observant eye might have
noticed at times within that circle, many anx-
ious countenances, as if fear or passion were
rather suppressed by strong effort, than dis-
pelled by the gaiety of the scene.
A buzz of expectation filled the vast as-
sembly, as the ædile, Publicola, advanced from
the curule chair, to usher in the Emperor and
his retinue. Habitual intoxication, or the un-
usual excitement of the day, had deepened the
flush upon the countenance of Nero, and those
of the populace who remembered his appear-
ance in other days, looked in vain for the mild
expression which his features once wore. The
affected manner and effeminate attire were too
plainly visible; but in the red,. bloated aspect,
and cold and careless glance, they recognised
as plainly, the hardend character of the tyrant.
As he assumed the throne, the peal of trumpets
arose with the deafening shouts of the popu-
lace; and these were renewed with equal ardor
as the haughty Poppaa, with a smile of queen-
ly condescension, waved her hand to the crowd-
ed galleries, and assumed her seat by his side
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 329
•
under the canopy. Then came Tigellinus, in
the splendid dress which designated his rank as
Prætorian Prefect, accompanied by ten centu-
rions of the guard, with an equal number of
subordinate officers following in the train of
each. Next followed the several officers of the
household, after whose entrance the doors of
the podium were closed, and the dense ranks of
the soldiery filled up the space between it and
the railing of the arena. Among these, con-
spicuous by his noble form and open features,
was Sulpicius Asper.
.
The amphitheatre was uncovered, for the
day was so mild and balmy, that it was a lux-
ury to breathe the delicious atmosphere. Al-
though the sun had nearly gained his meridian,
the spectators in the higher seats sought no
protection from his rays, and the broad awnings
waved idly upon the walls. Sweet perfumes,
diffused from concealed tubes in the statues
which stood upon every landing-place of the
ascent to the different ranges of seats, inspired
the sense of luxurious enjoyment: and the
giddy populace, in the delights of the hour,
got the iron hand which pressed them to the
earth, and the danger to which the caprice of
tyranny, various, but equally perilous, with
every moment, exposed them.
for-
330
MARTYRDOM,
The ædile rose again from his seat, and hav-
ing caught the approving nod of the Emperor,
proceeded to introduce the business of the day.
"We are assembled, O Romans," he said,
66
to assign to merited infamy and death some
of the leaders of that impious race, who blas-
pheme the gods, and seek to overthrow the re-
ligion of the state. Varus Dobella, accused
and convicted by his own confession of being a
Christian, awaits the execution of his sentence
in the chamber of the gladiators."
A low murmur of approbation ran through
the assembly, and the ædile paused a moment
till it subsided. He then resumed in a louder
tone:
•
"But first," he said, "it becomes you to
hear some of the details of that iniquitous con-
spiracy which has aimed a sacrilegious blow
at the heart of our sacred Emperor."
He then narrated briefly the circumstances
which had come to the knowledge of the court,
with the names of the principal conspirators.
When those of Caius Piso and Julius Metellus
were announced, the profound silence and sig-
nificant looks exchanged by the auditory, testi-
fied the interest inspired by the intelligence,
that those popular patricians were numbered
with the proscribed. An uneasy movement in
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 331
the circle of the Equestrian order was also visi-
ble, as many officers of the Prætorian guards,
with some of their own rank, absent from the
amphitheatre, were successively implicated by
the unsparing voice of the ædile.
"Ye see the crime of these men, O Romans,"
continued Publicola, "and ye see the danger
which the gods, mindful of the destinies of
Rome, have averted from the sacred head of
Cæsar. Ye will approve, doubtless, of the
sentence which consigns the traitors to infamy
and death."
66
'Long live Nero, the greatest, august,” was
the shout which came from the populace, “and
so perish all his enemies!"
There was no reply from the soldiery, and
the knights joined feebly in the cry. The
former continued to stand in their ranks with
rigid indifference. One voice alone was raised,
but as quickly lowered. It was the voice of
Sulpicius Asper-his cheek was flushed with
anger, and his eye shot fire. But the time had
not yet come.
A cry of surprise was heard, as a centurion,
in obedience to a sign from the Emperor, open-
ed the iron gates which communicated with
the ante-chamber of the spoliarium, or apart-
332
MARTYRDOM.
ment allotted to the gladiators, and Metellus,
Flavius, and Fenius Rufus, the colleague of
Tigellinus in the præfecture, issued forth.
They remained unbound, but were closely sur-
rounded by a band of German soldiers. Behind
these, similarly guarded, came Varus Dobella,
arrayed for the approaching combat upon the
arena. The gates closed again, and a few mo-
ments of profound silence succeeded, which
was again broken by the voice of the ædile.
"The death of traitors is reserved for these,"
he cried, pointing to the three who occupied
the centre of the first party, "they are brought
forth, Romans, that you may look upon their
shame!"
A faint response was heard to this singular
exercise of tyrannical authority, but the great-
er part, even of the rabble, averted their faces,
while the soldiery cast their eyes sternly to the
ground.
"Ye will not-ye dare not, slay him!" sud-
denly screamed one from the seats of the fe-
males, "Julius Metellus is the preserver of my
child. O spare him, benignant Nero !"
The Emperor moved uneasily upon his seat,
for even so slight an interruption was not with-
out its influence upon his fears.
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 333
"Who dares to speak thus ?" cried the ædile
angrily, glancing in the direction whence the
voice proceeded.
The designatores rushed to the spot, but the
individual had already effectually concealed
herself in the crowd.
66
Advance, Varus Dobella!" exclaimed Ne-
ro, impatient of delay, while he motioned to
the soldiers to conduct the prisoner to the foot
of the altar.
The soldier was led forward into the arena.
The guards fell back, the heavy gates were
closed, and all possibility of escape shut out,
except by the desperate expedient of leaping
into the midst of the soldiery.
“Varus Dobella, a Christian,” again said the
ædile, “has been judged and condemned for the
crime of abetting and leading on his comrades
of that impious sect, in setting fire to the city
of Rome. Yesterday, O Romans, his doom
was pronounced-death by the combat. Yet
the clemency of the Emperor, in consideration
of the services rendered by him, in time past,
to the state, has offered pardon, on condition
that he here renounce the impious doctrines he
has professed, and do homage to the gods."
As the ædile pronounced these words, a loud
334
MARTYRDOM.
burst of applause proceeded from the soldiery,
echoed with much ardor from the seats of the
Equestrian order. It had scarcely subsided,
however, when several distinct murmurs were
heard from the excited populace above. "The
combat, the combat, let the doom be executed,
O Cæsar, death by the combat!”
Nero shifted his position slightly, as he sat,
and the color varied upon his cheek. The ædile
resumed the curule chair, and the flamen of
Jupiter stepped forward.
66
"Wilt thou sacrifice, soldier ?" he said.
"Lo! the sacred flame burns upon the altar,
and the vase of incense is at thy feet."
"I cannot bow the knee," replied Dobella,
in a subdued, but firm tone, as a faint glow il-
luminated his features, "I cannot bow the
knee to them which are no gods."
"Beware!" resumed the ædile, holding up
his hands, "beware! and rush not with impi-
ous madness upon thy fate!"
"I rush not upon my fate," again replied
Dobella, with a smile in which resolution and
unshaken hope were blended; "but I know in
whom I have believed; neither can I do hom-
age to a senseless image. Hear me, O Cæsar!
hear me, men of Italy! hear me, nobles and
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 335
senators of Rome! Of the crime of firing the
city, the Emperor, in whose presence I stand,
and to whose conscience, before heaven I ap-
peal, knows me to be guiltless. In the name
of a Christian I glory; nor shall the aspect of
death cause me to falter in the profession I have
made. Through Him who strengtheneth me,
I look fearlessly to the combat."
He reviles the gods !" exclaimed the fla-
men, abruptly retreating to his place, with
hands upraised to heaven.
"He reviles the gods!" shouted the popu-
lace, and the deep and savage cry was like the
heavy roar which ushers in the tempest: "he
reviles the gods! to the combat !”
The vestal virgins veiled their brows, while
the voice of each of the flamens was raised al-
ternately in the following hymn of invocation.
At the conclusion of each stanza, the voices of
the vestals united in the chorus.
I.
O thou! enthroned in clouds,
At whose command the tempest, storm and fire,
Obedient heralds round thy footsteps crowd;
While, at the glance of thy triumphant ire,
The vault of heaven is bowed.
336
MARTYRDOM.
Almighty Jove! reveal thine arm to smite
The vile blasphemer, and display thy might.
CHORUS OF VESTALS.
Accept the victim, and avert thine ire,
Smile on the prostrate realm that owns thy sway!
Let blood atone, with sacrificial fire,
And turn from Rome the avenging hand away!
II.
Queen of the heavenly host!
Thrice radiant Juno! from thy starry throne
Palsy the lips that breathe this impious boast,
Consign the wretch that scorns thy rule to own
To the dim Stygian coast:
There, 'reft of hope, 'neath Pluto's gloomy reign
To bear his hapless doom, in fierce, unending pain.
CHORUS OF VESTALS.
Accept the sacrifice, benignant queen,
Avert the wrath of Jove; thy people spare!
In Rome's defence be thine old glory seen,
And fix the eagles of thine empire there.
III.
Goddess of wisdom thou
Of the mild-beaming eye, and brow serene;
Thou who, to those that to thy sceptre bow,
Dost give celestial light, withdraw, O queen!
Thy sacred influence now
From the rebellious soul and impious mind
Of him who scoffs at truth, by wilful error blind.
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 337
CHORUS OF VESTALS.
Gods of victorious Rome! appeased, look down!
Light, wisdom, power, to her counsels give,
With victory her glorious armies crown,
And round her altars fadeless laurels weave.
The hymn ceased, and a moment of silence
succeeded, which was soon interrupted in a
manner that caused the greater part of the
audience to start to their feet with surprise.
A loud strain of music from the voices of men
and women, blended together in exquisite har-
mony, was heard in the ante-chamber of the
spoliarium, occupied by the Christian prisoners,
and the words which they sang were plainly
distinguished.
I.
Saviour, who, for man's redemption,
Once the vale of suffering trod,
From the curse to work exemption,
And to bring the lost to God!
Cleanse our souls, ascended Jesus!
From the crimson stains of sin,
From the thrall of death release us;
Aid us endless life to win.
II.
Saviour, who, for man's transgression,
On the cross in anguish hung,
338
MARTYRDOM,
Break the bonds of our oppression,
Break the chains around us flung:
Heal the hearts that bleed with anguish;
Dry the penitential tears;
Aid and strengthen us who languish;
Chase away our ling'ring fears.
III.
God of strength and consolation,
Prophet, Priest, ascended King!
Visit us with Thy salvation,
Shield us with Thy guardian wing;
As we pass the fiery trial,
As we meet the lion's wrath,
May no faltering or denial
Shame Thee on our martyr-path.
IV.
Saviour! we are frail and needy,
Thou art strong, and rich in grace;
Visit us with succor speedy,
Give us strength to end the race.
Now the storms around us lower,
We will trust in Thee alone;
Leaning on thine arm of power,
Looking to Thy gracious throne.
V.
Thou! who in thine hour of passion,
For Thy murderers didst pray;
In Thy meek, divine compassion,
Smiling all their rage away;
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 339
Pardon now this people's blindness;
Pardon their infuriate zeal;
Quench their hate in heavenly kindness,
Turn to flesh these hearts of steel.
Surprise and anger,, not unmingled with ad-
miration, enchanted the audience, as they list-
ened to this unwonted response to the invoca-
tion of the flamens. When it ended, Nero
stood upon his feet, his countenance burning
with rage, impatiently gesturing to the lictors
to open the gates, and admit the lions to the
arena. The features of Dobella retained the
solemn smile they had worn before; but his
eye was brighter, and his lips were parted as if
in prayer, while he looked up to heaven.
Then rose on high the strong angry cry of
the multitude, and the words which the Empe-
ror essayed to speak were drowned in the ter-
rific shout:
"Admit the lions! they blaspheme the gods,
they insult the majesty of Rome. All, all to
the combat!"
"Hold" exclaimed Flavius, bursting from
the side of Metellus, and, by an effort almost
super human, springing over the railing of the
"I, too, am a Christian! I demand
the combat with Dobella !"
arena.
340
MARTYRDOM
"Traitor! assassin!" shouted Tigellinus;
"a death yet baser than the Christian's, shall
be thine! Seize him, soldiers! He has violated
his oath of allegiance; he has stained his hands.
with the blood of a faithful servant of Rome."
The tribune had gained the side of Dobella,
ere he essayed to reply. In the mean time the
gates of the arena were thrown open by the
soldiers, who advanced to seize him; while
others, fearing to resist the demands of the pop-
ulace, or actuated by a baser motive, pushed
aside the door of the ante-chamber where the
Christians were confined.
"I am not careful to answer thee, Tigelli-
nus," said Flavius, as he freed himself from the
ardent embrace of his friend.
"Yet he shall be answered," exclaimed Sul-
picius Asper, suddenly rising in his place.
"Thou liest, unworthy prefect! My hand
struck the base spy of Nero to the earth; and
it is ready to do a nobler work, when the gods
shall favor. So perish," he added, tearing the
insignia of his office from his robes, and tramp-
ling them under foot, "so perish all ties by
which I am bound to the tyrant! Monster!
I spit at thee! I defy thee! And now, com-
rades, do your worst! I will at least perish by
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI.
341
a nobler foe than the degenerate soldiery of
Rome."
So saying, he rushed forward to the railing,
but was arrested before he reached it. A slight
disposition to favor his object was manifested
by some of the band; but the vigor and celer-
ity of his captors, inspired by the angry com-
mands of the prefect, and the visible rage of
the Emperor, soon prevailed to hurry him into
confinement.
The ædile stood watching the countenance
of the Emperor, who, as the confusion occasion-
ed by the capture of Asper subsided, flung
himself back upon his seat, and whispered
hastily to Poppaa.
"Let him die !" he exclaimed, at length.
A radiant smile illuminated the features of
the tribune, as he heard the order. Folding
Dobella to his breast, they sank together upon
their knees, and heeded not the mad raging of
the populace around them.
The ædile would have spoken again, but an
impatient gesture from the Emperor, and the
tumult among the spectators restrained him.
He arose to give the order for the admission of
the lions, and the tumult subsided. Then it
was that a faint cry was heard from the ante-
342
MARTYRDOM.
chamber, and a female form, clothed in white,
darted through the open gates, and rushed for-
ward to the spot where the victims were kneel-
ing. So suddenly did the beautiful apparition
appear; so transcendantly lovely was the coun-
tenance, on which the noblest and purest of
human emotions had fixed their impress; so
frail was the form, which yet seemed nerved
with strength more than human, that every eye
gazed upon it in admiration, every lip was
mute with wonder.
Half the space between the gates and the al-
tar had not been cleared, before Salome was at
her side. With one impulse Dobella and the
tribune arose from their knees; and, in the
next moment, Julia of Baia was in the arms
of her husband, and Salome had veiled her fea-
tures, and sought protection at the feet of his
friend Dobella.
"Hold, slaves!" cried the Emperor, as Ti-
gellinus, with a burning brow, whispered in his
ear, "the maiden will renounce; the maiden
will do homage to the gods."
"She will, she must!" shouted Tigellinus,
darting a glance of lightning to the spot, while
the blood left his lips, in the intense and angry
excitement of the moment. "She is deluded
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 343
by accursed arts. Let her be borne from the
arena."
"He says well," replied Nero, forgetting
alike his fears and his cruelty, in the surprise
and admiration which kept his eyes riveted
upon the arena ; "the maiden is not yet ad-
judged to death.”
"She is called by a voice which even thou
must obey," said the recluse of Pausilippo,
advancing from the gates of the prison. "Cæ-
sar, the daughter of Metellus is the bride of
the tribune."
"Away, old babbler," cried Tigellinus, fierce-
ly;
"these are ties which can be broken as
lightly as they are woven. Follow, centurions,
and bear the maiden from the arena !"
"I appeal for protection to the Roman peo-
ple!" said Julia, casting a brief, brilliant glance
around the crowded galleries. Her voice trem-
bled, it is true, but all who heard it, felt that
there was a nobler emotion than fear at her
heart: "I am a Christian. I would die with
my people."
"Follow, centurions!" shouted Tigellinus
again, springing into the midst of the soldiery
below, “ye are bound by the will of the Em-
peror."
344
MARTYRDOM.
"Forbear!" said more than one voice from
the band, into the midst of which he had
thrown himself. But he persisted in his pur-
pose, until he reached the spot where Metellus
was now struggling with his guards.
"My lord!" he said, suddenly confronting
the patrician, "the Emperor here renews the
offer of pardon; you know the conditions."
"Away!" replied Metellus, drawing himself
up, with a smile of sorrowful contempt, "away!
I make no terms with such as thou!”
Stung to madness by the words and manner
of the patrician, the prefect cast one hasty
glance towards the spot where Julia yet stood,
leaning on the arm of her husband. He saw
that a change had passed over her countenance;
but the unusual paleness only rendered the fea-
tures more exquisitely beautiful.
And yet
what a struggle was passing within¡ She had
seen all, she had heard all. Her old and cher-
ished hope of preserving the life of her father
had risen again, with tenfold power: but it
was that hope which borders on despair. Full-
orbed as it was, the thick darkness was already
rolling over it.
Encouraged by the signs of emotion which
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 345
he saw, the prefect turned again to the pa-
trician.
"Behold thy child, Metellus! Snatch her
from the base doom which she seeks. I ask
not again; speak ere it be too late. Command
her, entreat her to renounce this impious faith."
"Away, base courtier-away! Her life is
an offering to heaven, indeed; and the breath
of thy passion shall not sully it."
"Then die in thy madness!" exclaimed the
furious courtier, no longer able to restrain his
passion. The moment had not passed before
his dagger had reached the heart of the pa-
trician.
"Monster!" shrieked a voice from the gal-
lery, and in an instant the amphitheatre was
one scene of confusion. The ædile endeavored
in vain to control the chaos. A female form
was observed rushing down one of the passages,
and the uproar was so unusual, that none of-
fered to interrupt her course.
She sprang
from the throng of knights in which, for a brief
space, her course was stayed, across the podium,
and alighted by the side of Tigellinus, ere he
had cast the murderous weapon from his hand.
Her first movement was to snatch the steel from
his hand-her next, to plunge it into the breast
346
MARTYRDOM.
of the assassin. As she did so, a wild ringing
cry filled the air:
66
He saved my child, he dies not unavenged.”
"Miserable woman!" exclaimed Metellus,
as he fell into the arms of an attendant, "you
know not what you do-enough-" his voice
became choked, but still his accents were firm:
"Hear me, Romans, I die a Christian. I par-
don my murderers. Farewell, Julia! we shall
meet-in-rest."
The whole of this terrible scene had been the
work almost, of a moment. It was not until
her father fell that the voice of the Roman
maiden was heard. A half suppressed shriek
burst from her lips; but it was quickly hushed.
She felt the arms of Salome around her. She
heard her, father's words, and her spirit revived
within her. She stood upon her feet, and ex-
tended her hand to Dobella. She was strangely
calm as he folded her in his embrace. She was
strangely calm as she turned to impress her
fervent, holy kiss upon the lips of her husband.
"Support me, yet for a moment, Flavius ;"
she said, "and when I am gone, be strong-be
strong. Dread not the lions' rage, for death
shall bring us together. Closer, Salome, let
me hear thy voice once more. O Christ thou
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 347
art mighty; thou art stronger than man.
Forgive these misguided men--forgive and
touch their hearts by the power of thy Cross."
The vast audience which had settled for the
moment into the stillness of consternation,
again lifted up its brutal voice, and the ædile
dared no longer delay to answer it.
"She blasphemes--clear the arena--the
lions !"
66 'Admit the lions!" shouted Nero.
ら
​Then a piercing shriek, so wild, so full of
agony, that it entered into every ear, and
thrilled every heart, was heard. It was the
cry of Salome.
"I hear, I hear!” murmured Julia, and all
assembled there listened to the accents, as if
they had been the accents of an angel, "I hear
the angels singing, and I come. Blessed Jesus,
receive my spirit."
A bright triumphant smile illuminated her
features, as she raised her countenance to heaven
and fell backward. It was even so. In that
moment of love and devotion, the silver cord
was loosed, and the bands of life gave way.
Flavius clasped the beautiful corpse in his arms,
and the smile lingered upon the features. The
gates of the arena were again unclosed, and the
348
MARTYRDOM.
terrific roar of the lions, as they caught the
first glimpse of their prey, shook the soul of
every spectator. Onward they came-lashing
themselves into fury, and answering with hor-
rible discord the peal of the Prætorian trum-
pet. The gates closed behind them; but the
martyrs stood in prayer, as if entranced. They
heeded them not-each of the living seemed to
behold a strengthening angel at his side; and
the soul of Julia of Baie was with GoD.
Reader who hast journeyed with us to this,
our parting spot, think not that we have es-
sayed to summon up these pictures of the past
(pictures, alas! all too faint and imperfect,)
for the amusement of an idle hour. As the fee-
ble illusion fades from thy mind, ere thou plun-
gest again into the midst of that actual battle
which thou art waging beneath the stars, and
which is thine earthly life, listen one moment
to that voice which cometh from heaven.
"Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord,
from henceforth. Even so, saith the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labors, and their
works do follow them. These are they which
THE AMPHITHEATRE OF PUTEOLI. 349
came out of great tribulation, and have washed
their robes and made them white in the blood
of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the
throne of God, and serve Him day and night in
His temple, and He that sitteth on the Throne
shall dwell among them. They shall hunger
no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall
the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the
Lamb which is in the midst of the Throne
shall feed them, and shall lead them unto liv-
ing fountains of waters; and God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes."
NOTES.
Note 1, page 18. A City of the Siren.-The moral of the
ingenious fable, which supposes Naples to have been built
upon the tomb of Parthenope, one of the Sirens, is perhaps
this:—that the city is blessed with one of those climates
which, on account of their extreme voluptuousness, are so
dangerous to virtue.
Note 2, page 20. A modern visiter.—In the sketch of the
scenery, etc., of this chapter, the author acknowledges his
obligation to the interesting volumes of Mr. Rockwell,
recently published.
Note 3. page 22. Beloved Parthenope. The city of Par-
thenope was built by the Chalcidians. It was afterwards de-
stroyed by the people of Cumæ, and a pestilence taking placo,
was rebuilt by the same people, under the name of Neapolis,
or the New City-now Naples.
Note 4, page 27. The author has entirely relied on the
authority of Gibbon, from whose "Decline and Fall" this
paragraph is extracted.
Note 5, page 28. A living historian.-The Rev. H. H.
Milman, from whose "History of Christianity" this and a
succeeding extract are made.
352
NOTES.
Note 6, page 30. When one so gifted and learned as the
author of the "Last Days of Pompeii," has failed in represent-
ing truly the religious spirit of the Roman world amidst its
decaying superstitions, and an awakening philosophical spirit,
inferior powers may well shrink from attempting that task,
however slightly. In the representation which he has feebly
essayed to give, the author has derived much assistance from
the profound and truly eloquent dissertations of Milman, to
whose work allusion has before been made. He will, therefore,
make no apology for laying the reader under similiar obliga-
tions to his own, by adding the observations of that historian,
on points intimately connected with the design of the tale.
The mental childhood of the human race, he observes, was
passing away; at least it had become wearied of its old toys.
The education, itself, by which, according to these generally
judicious writers, the youthful mind was to be impregnated
with reverential feelings for the objects of national worship,
must have been coldly conducted by toachers, conscious that
they were practising a pious fraud upon their disciples, and
perpetually embarrassed by the necessity of maintaining the
gravity befitting such solemn subjects, and of suppressing the
involuntary smile which might betray the secret of their own
impiety. One class of fables seems to have universally ex-
ploded, even in the earliest youth-those which related to
another life. The picture of the unrivalled satirist may be
overcharged, but it corresponds strictly with the public lan-
guage of the orator, and the private sentence of the philoso-
pher:
The silent realm of disembodied ghosts,
The frogs that croak along the Stygian coasts
The thousand souls in one crazed vessel steered,
Not boys believe, save boys without a beard."
;
NOTES.
353
Even the religious Pausanias speaks of the immortality of the
soul, as a foreign doctrine, introduced by the Chaldeans and
the Magi, and embraced by some of the Greeks, particularly
by Plato. Pliny, whose Natural History opens with a
declaration that the universe is the sole deity, devotes a sepa-
rate chapter to a contemptuous exposure of the idle notion of
the immortality of the soul, as a vision of human pride, and
equally absurd, whether under the form of existence in another
sphere, or under that of transmigration.
(
What remained for minds thus enlightened beyond the
poetic faith of their ancestors, yet not ripe for philosophy?
How was the craving for religious excitement to be appeased,
which turned with dissatisfaction or disgust from its accus-
tomed nutriment? Here is the secret of the remarkable union
between the highest reason and the most abject superstition
which characterises the age of Imperial Rome. Every foreign
religion found proselytes in the capital of the world; 'not only
the pure and rational theorism of the Jews, which had made
a progress, the extent of which it is among the most difficult
questions in history to estimate, but the oriental rites of Pliry-
gia, and the Isiac and Serapic worship of Egypt, which în de-
fiance of the edict of the magistrate and the scorn of the
philosopher, maintained their ground in the capital, and were
so widely propagated among the provinces, that their vestiges
may be traced in the remote districts of Gaul and Britain; and
at a later period, the reviving Mithriac mysteries, which in
the same manner made their way into 'the western provinces
of the empire. In the capital itself, everything that was new,
or secret, or imposing, found a welcome reception among a
people that listened with indifference to philosophers who
reasoned, and poets who embodied philosophy in the most at-
tractive diction. For in Rome, poetry had forsworn the alliance
of the old imaginative faith. The irreligious system of Euhe-
•
·
354
NOTES.
•
merus had found a translator in Ennius; that of Epicurus was
commended by the unrivalled powers of Lucretius. Virgil,
himself, who, as he collected from all quarters the beauties of
ancient poetry, so he inlaid in his splendid tesselation the no-
blest images of the poetic faith of Greece: yet, though at one
moment he transfuses mythology into his stately verse with
all the fire of an ardent votary, at the next he appears as a
pantheist, and describes the Deity but as the animating soul
of the universe. An occasional fit of superstition crosses
over the careless and Epicurean apathy of Horace. Astrology
and witchcraft led captive minds, which boasted themselves
emancipated from the idle terrors of the avenging gods. In
the Pharsalia of Lucan, which manifestly soars far above the
vulgar theology, where the lofty stoicism clevates the brave
man who disdains, above the gods who flatter, the rising for-
tunes of Cæsar; yet, in the description of the witch Erictho
evoking the dead (the only purely imaginative passage in the
whole rhetorical poem), there is a kind of tremendous truth
and earnestness, which show that if the poet himself believed
not "the magic wonders which he drew," at least he well
knew the terrors that would strike the age in which he wrote.
The old established traders in human credulity had almost lost
their occupation; but their place was supplied by new em-
pirics, who swarmed from all quarters. The oracles were
silent, while astrology seized the administration of the secrets
of futurity. Pompey, and Crassus, and Cæsar, all consulted
the Chaldeans, whose flattering predictions that they should
die in old age, in their homes, in glory, so belied by their mis-
erable fates, still brought not the unblushing science into dis-
repute. The repeated edicts which expelled the astrologers
and mathematicians from Rome, was no less an homage to
their power over the public mind, than their recall, the tacit
permission to return, or the return in defiance of the insulted
NOTES.
355
edict. Banished by Agrippa, by Agustus, by Tiberius, by
Claudius, they are described, in the inimitable language of Ta-
citus, as a race who, treacherous to those in power, fallacious
to those who hope for power, are ever proscribed, yet will
ever remain. They were at length taken under the avowed
patronage of Vespasian and his successors. All these circum-
stances were manifest indications of the decay, and of the ap-
proaching dissolution of the old religion. The elegiac poet
had read, not without sagacity, the signs of the times:
None sought the aid of foreign gods, while bowed
Before their native shrines the trembling crowd.
C
And thus in the struggle between the old household deities
of the established faith, and the half domiciliated gods of the
stranger, undermined by philosophy, supplanted by still darker
superstition, polytheism seemed, as it were, to await its death-
blow; and to be ready to surrender its ancient honors to the
conqueror, whom divine Providence should endow with suffi-
cient authority over the human mind to seize upon the abdi-
cated supremacy.
Such is the state in which the ancient world leaves the
mind of man. On a sudden a new era commences; a rapid
yet gradual revolution takes place in the opinions, sentiments,
and principles of mankind; the void is filled; the connexion
between religion and morals re-established, with an intimacy of
union yet unknown. The unity of the Deity becomes, not the
high and mysterious creed of a privileged sacerdotal or intellec-
tual oligarchy, but the common property of all whose minds are
fitted to receive it; all religious distinctions are annihilated;
the jurisdictions of all local deities abolished; and, impercep-
tibly the empire of Rome becomes one great Christian common-
wealth, which even sends out, as it were, its peaceful claims
356
NOTES.
into regions beyond the limits of the imperial power. The
characteristic distinction of the general revolution is this-that
the physical agency of the Deity seems to recede from view,
while the spiritual character is more distinctly unfolded; or,
rather, the notion of the Divine Power is merged in the more
prevailing sentiment of his moral goodness. The remarkable
passage in the Jewish history, in which God is described as
revealing himself to Elijah, "neither in the strong wind, nor
in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice,"
may be considered, we will not say prophetic, but singularly
significant of the sensations to be excited in the human mind
by the successive revelations of the Deity. The doctrine of
the immortality of the soul partook in the same change with the
notion of the Deity: it became at once popular, simple and
spiritual. It was disseminated throughout all orders of society;
it admitted no aristocratic elysium of heroes and demi-gods,
like that of the early Greeks: it separated itself from that
earlier and widely prevalent form, which it assumed in the
agonies of the nature-worship, where the soul, emanating from
the source of Being, after one or many transmigrations, was
reabsorbed into the Divine Essence. It announced the resur-
rection of all mankind to judgement, and the reunion of the
spirit to a body, which preserving the principle of identity,
nevertheless should be of a purer and more imperishable na-
ture. Such are the great primary principles which became
incorporated with the mind of man; and, operating on all
human institutions, on the common sentiments of the whole
race, form the great distinctive difference between the ancient
and the modern, the European and the Asiatic world.
During the middle ages, there was a strong reaction of barbar-
ism: in its outward form, Christianity might appear to recede
towards the polytheism of older times; and as has been shown,
not in a philosophic, but in a narrow polemic spirit of hostility
NOTES.
357
to the church of Rome, many of the rites and usages of
heathenism were admitted into the Christian system; yet
the indelible difference between the two periods remained. A
higher sense and meaning was infused into these forms: God
was considered in his moral rather than his physical attri-
butes-as the Lord of the future, as much or even more than
of the present world. The saints and angels, who have been
compared to the intermediate deities of the older superstitions,
had, nevertheless, besides their tutelar power against imme-
diate accidents and temporal calamities, an important influence
over the state of the soul in the world to come; they as-
sumed the higher office of ministering to the hopes of the fu-
ture in a still greater degree than to the blessings of the pre-
sent life.
Note 62, page 248. Those who are familiar with Mr. Mil-
man's beautiful drama of "the Martyr of Antioch," will par-
don the author for transferring so rich a gem as this to his
pages.
Note 7, page 259. See Tacitus, “Annals, XVI., section 52.”
Mr. Murphy's elegant translation of these passages has been
freely used.
Note 8, page 266.
แ
'Hymn at the lamp-lighting,”—The au-
thor has given what he fears to be a very feeble translation
of this delightful little hymn. The words of the original,
σε φῶς
as quoted by Archbishop Usher, are as follows:
ἱλαρὸν δοξῆς ἀθανάτου Πατρὸς οὐρανιου, ἅγιου, μακαριου Ιησού
Χριςτε, έλθοντες ἔπι του ἡλίου δυσιν, ίδοντες φῶς ἑσπερινὸν,
ὑμνοῦμεν Πατερα καὶ Ὑιὸν καὶ Αγιον Πνεύμα Θεοῦ. Άξιος
εἶ εν πασι χαίροις ὑμνεῖσθαί φῶναις ὁσιαις, Υιὲ Θεοῦ, ζωὴν ὁ
διδούς. Δίο ὁ κόσμος σε δοξάζει.
358
NOTES.
Basil says that it was a custom of the early Christians to
return thanks to the three persons of the Godhead, by name,
in this hymn, when the lamps were first lighted in the
evening.
Note 9, page 297. The death of a hero.-Lucan, after all,
exhibited great fortitude in his death; expiring with that
celebrated passage of his Pharsalia in his mouth, which the
reader will find quoted in the commencement of the last
chapter of the third book.
Note 10, page 301. The temple, etc.-The remains of the
Temple of Jupiter Serapis, and of the Amphitheatre at Pute-
oli, are remarkable even at this day.

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10 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
Times Roman
4 PT
6 PT
8 PT
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10 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
4 PT
6 PT
8 PT
Century Schoolbook Bold
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10 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
4 PT
6 PT
News Gothic Bold Reversed
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8 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
10 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
4 PT
6 PT
8 PT
Bodoni Italic
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10 PT ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz;:",./?$0123456789
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A4 Page 6543210
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ROCHESTER INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY, ONE LOMB
PRODUCED BY GRAPHIC ARTS RESEARCH CENTER