Beric the Briton : a Story of the Roman Invasion eBook

CHAPTER XV:  THE CHRISTIANS TO THE LIONS

After the contest in which Lupus had been defeated there was a pause.  The gladiatorial part of the show was now over, but there was greater excitement still awaiting the audience, for they knew Nero had ordered that some of the Christians were to be given to the lions.  There was a hush of expectation as the door was opened, and a procession, consisting of a priest of Jupiter and several attendants of the temple, followed by four guards conducting an elderly man with his two sons, lads of seventeen or eighteen, entered.  They made their way across the arena and stopped before the emperor.  The priest approached the prisoners, holding out a small image of the god, and offered them their lives if they would pay the customary honours to it.  All refused.  They were then conducted back to the centre of the arena, and the rest, leaving them there, filed out through the door.  The old man laid his hands on the shoulders of his sons and began singing a hymn, in which they both joined.  Their voices rose loud and clear in the silence of the amphitheatre, and there was neither pause nor waver in the tone as the entrance to one of the cages at the other end of the arena was opened, and a lion and a lioness appeared.  The animals stood hesitating as they looked round at the sea of faces, then, encouraged by the silence, they stepped out, and side by side made the circuit of the arena, stopping and uttering a loud roar as they came upon the track along which the bleeding bodies of those who had fallen had been dragged.  When they had completed the circle they again paused, and now for the first time turned their attention to the three figures standing in its centre.  For a minute they stood irresolute, and then crouching low crawled towards them.

Beric turned his head.  He could view without emotion a contest of armed men, but he could not, like the population of Rome, see unarmed and unresisting men pulled down by wild beasts.  There was a dead stillness in the crowded amphitheatre, then there was a low sound as of gasping breath.  One voice alone continued the hymn, and soon that too ceased suddenly.  The tragedy was over, and the buzz of conversation and comment again broke out among the spectators.  Certainly these Christians knew how to die.  They were bad citizens, they had doubtless assisted to burn Rome, but they knew how to die.

A strong body of guards provided with torches now entered.  The lions were driven back to their dens, the bodies being left lying where they had fallen.  Four batches of prisoners who were brought out one after another met with a similar fate.  Then there was another pause.  It was known that a girl of noble family was to be the last victim, and all eyes were turned to Norbanus, who, with his wife and Aemilia, sat in the front row near Nero, with two Praetorian guards standing beside them.  Norbanus was deadly pale, but the pride of noble blood, the stoicism of the philosopher, and the knowledge of his own utter helplessness combined to prevent his showing any other sign of emotion.  Lesbia sat upright and immovable herself.  She was not one to show her emotion before the gaze of the common people.