The Last Days of Pompeii

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by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton


  Chapter XVII

  A CHANCE FOR GLAUCUS.

  THE hours passed in lingering torture over the head of Nydia from thetime in which she had been replaced in her cell.

  Sosia, as if afraid he should be again outwitted, had refrained fromvisiting her until late in the morning of the following day, and then hebut thrust in the periodical basket of food and wine, and hastilyreclosed the door. That day rolled on, and Nydia felt herselfpent--barred--inexorably confined, when that day was the judgment-day ofGlaucus, and when her release would have saved him! Yet knowing, almostimpossible as seemed her escape, that the sole chance for the life ofGlaucus rested on her, this young girl, frail, passionate, and acutelysusceptible as she was--resolved not to give way to a despair that woulddisable her from seizing whatever opportunity might occur. She kept hersenses whenever, beneath the whirl of intolerable thought, they reeledand tottered; nay, she took food and wine that she might sustain herstrength--that she might be prepared!

  She revolved scheme after scheme of escape, and was forced to dismissall. Yet Sosia was her only hope, the only instrument with which shecould tamper. He had been superstitious in the desire of ascertainingwhether he could eventually purchase his freedom. Blessed gods! mighthe not be won by the bribe of freedom itself? was she not nearly richenough to purchase it? Her slender arms were covered with bracelets, thepresents of Ione; and on her neck she yet wore that very chain which, itmay be remembered, had occasioned her jealous quarrel with Glaucus, andwhich she had afterwards promised vainly to wear for ever. She waitedburningly till Sosia should again appear: but as hour after hour passed,and he came not, she grew impatient. Every nerve beat with fever; shecould endure the solitude no longer--she groaned, she shriekedaloud--she beat herself against the door. Her cries echoed along thehall, and Sosia, in peevish anger, hastened to see what was the matter,and silence his prisoner if possible.

  'Ho! ho! what is this?' said he, surlily. 'Young slave, if thouscreamest out thus, we must gag thee again. My shoulders will smart forit, if thou art heard by my master.'

  'Kind Sosia, chide me not--I cannot endure to be so long alone,'answered Nydia; 'the solitude appals me. Sit with me, I pray, a littlewhile. Nay, fear not that I should attempt to escape; place thy seatbefore the door. Keep thine eye on me--I will not stir from this spot.'

  Sosia, who was a considerable gossip himself, was moved by this address.He pitied one who had nobody to talk with--it was his case too; hepitied--and resolved to relieve himself. He took the hint of Nydia,placed a stool before the door, leant his back against it, and replied:

  'I am sure I do not wish to be churlish; and so far as a little innocentchat goes, I have no objection to indulge you. But mind, no tricks--nomore conjuring!'

  'No, no; tell me, dear Sosia, what is the hour?'

  'It is already evening--the goats are going home.'

  'O gods! how went the trial'

  'Both condemned.'

  Nydia repressed the shriek. 'Well--well, I thought it would be so. Whendo they suffer?'

  'To-morrow, in the amphitheatre. If it were not for thee, littlewretch, I should be allowed to go with the rest and see it.'

  Nydia leant back for some moments. Nature could endure no more--she hadfainted away. But Sosia did not perceive it, for it was the dusk ofeve, and he was full of his own privations. He went on lamenting theloss of so delightful a show, and accusing the injustice of Arbaces forsingling him out from all his fellows to be converted into a gaoler; andere he had half finished, Nydia, with a deep sigh, recovered the senseof life.

  'Thou sighest, blind one, at my loss! Well, that is some comfort. Solong as you acknowledge how much you cost me, I will endeavor not togrumble. It is hard to be ill-treated, and yet not pitied.'

  'Sosia, how much dost thou require to make up the purchase of thyfreedom?'

  'How much? Why, about two thousand sesterces.'

  'The gods be praised! not more? Seest thou these bracelets and thischain? They are well worth double that sum. I will give them theeif...'

  'Tempt me not: I cannot release thee. Arbaces is a severe and awfulmaster. Who knows but I might feed the fishes of the Sarnus Alas! allthe sesterces in the world would not buy me back into life. Better alive dog than a dead lion.'

  'Sosia, thy freedom! Think well! If thou wilt let me out only for onelittle hour!--let me out at midnight--I will return ere to-morrow'sdawn; nay, thou canst go with me.'

  'No,' said Sosia, sturdily, 'a slave once disobeyed Arbaces, and he wasnever more heard of.'

  'But the law gives a master no power over the life of a slave.'

  'The law is very obliging, but more polite than efficient. I know thatArbaces always gets the law on his side. Besides, if I am once dead,what law can bring me to life again!'

  Nydia wrung her hands. 'Is there no hope, then?' said she,convulsively.

  'None of escape till Arbaces gives the word.'

  'Well, then, said Nydia, quickly, 'thou wilt not, at least, refuse totake a letter for me: thy master cannot kill thee for that.'

  'To whom?'

  'The praetor.'

  'To a magistrate? No--not I. I should be made a witness in court, forwhat I know; and the way they cross-examine the slaves is by thetorture.'

  'Pardon: I meant not the praetor--it was a word that escaped meunawares: I meant quite another person--the gay Sallust.'

  'Oh! and what want you with him?'

  'Glaucus was my master; he purchased me from a cruel lord. He alone hasbeen kind to me. He is to die. I shall never live happily if I cannot,in his hour of trial and doom, let him know that one heart is gratefulto him. Sallust is his friend; he will convey my message.'

  'I am sure he will do no such thing. Glaucus will have enough to thinkof between this and to-morrow without troubling his head about a blindgirl.'

  'Man,' said Nydia, rising, 'wilt thou become free? Thou hast the offerin thy power; to-morrow it will be too late. Never was freedom morecheaply purchased. Thou canst easily and unmissed leave home: less thanhalf an hour will suffice for thine absence. And for such a trifle wiltthou refuse liberty?'

  Sosia was greatly moved. It was true that the request was remarkablysilly; but what was that to him? So much the better. He could lock thedoor on Nydia, and, if Arbaces should learn his absence, the offence wasvenial, and would merit but a reprimand. Yet, should Nydia's lettercontain something more than what she had said--should it speak of herimprisonment, as he shrewdly conjectured it would do--what then! Itneed never be known to Arbaces that he had carried the letter. At theworst the bribe was enormous--the risk light--the temptationirresistible. He hesitated no longer--he assented to the proposal.

  'Give me the trinkets, and I will take the letter. Yet stay--thou art aslave--thou hast no right to these ornaments--they are thy master's.'

  'They were the gifts of Glaucus; he is my master. What chance hath heto claim them? Who else will know they are in my possession?'

  'Enough--I will bring thee the papyrus.'

  'No, not papyrus--a tablet of wax and a stilus.'

  Nydia, as the reader will have seen, was born of gentle parents. Theyhad done all to lighten her calamity, and her quick intellect secondedtheir exertions. Despite her blindness, she had therefore acquired inchildhood, though imperfectly, the art to write with the sharp stilusupon waxen tablets, in which her exquisite sense of touch came to heraid. When the tablets were brought to her, she thus painfully tracedsome words in Greek, the language of her childhood, and which almostevery Italian of the higher ranks was then supposed to know. Shecarefully wound round the epistle the thread, and covered its knot withwax; and ere she placed it in the hands of Sosia, she thus addressedhim:

  'Sosia, I am blind and in prison. Thou mayst think to deceive me--thoumayst pretend only to take the letter to Sallust--thou mayst not fulfillthy charge: but here I solemnly dedicate thy head to vengeance, thy soulto the infernal powers, if thou wrongest thy trust; and I call upon theet
o place thy right hand of faith in mine, and repeat after me thesewords: "By the ground on which we stand--by the elements which containlife and can curse life--by Orcus, the all-avenging--by the OlympianJupiter, the all-seeing--I swear that I will honestly discharge mytrust, and faithfully deliver into the hands of Sallust this letter!And if I perjure myself in this oath, may the full curses of heaven andhell be wreaked upon me!" Enough!--I trust thee--take thy reward. It isalready dark--depart at once.'

  'Thou art a strange girl, and thou hast frightened me terribly; but itis all very natural: and if Sallust is to be found, I give him thisletter as I have sworn. By my faith, I may have my little peccadilloes!but perjury--no! I leave that to my betters.'

  With this Sosia withdrew, carefully passing the heavy bolt athwartNydia's door--carefully locking its wards: and, hanging the key to hisgirdle, he retired to his own den, enveloped himself from head to footin a huge disguising cloak, and slipped out by the back way undisturbedand unseen.

  The streets were thin and empty. He soon gained the house of Sallust.The porter bade him leave his letter, and be gone; for Sallust was sogrieved at the condemnation of Glaucus, that he could not on any accountbe disturbed.

  'Nevertheless, I have sworn to give this letter into his own hands--doso I must!' And Sosia, well knowing by experience that Cerberus loves asop, thrust some half a dozen sesterces into the hand of the porter.

  'Well, well,' said the latter, relenting, 'you may enter if you will;but, to tell you the truth, Sallust is drinking himself out of hisgrief. It is his way when anything disturbs him. He orders a capitalsupper, the best wine, and does not give over till everything is out ofhis head--but the liquor.'

  'An excellent plan--excellent! Ah, what it is to be rich! If I wereSallust, I would have some grief or another every day. But just say akind word for me with the atriensis--I see him coming.'

  Sallust was too sad to receive company; he was too sad, also, to drinkalone; so, as was his wont, he admitted his favorite freedman to hisentertainment, and a stranger banquet never was held. For ever andanon, the kind-hearted epicure sighed, whimpered, wept outright, andthen turned with double zest to some new dish or his refilled goblet.

  'My good fellow,' said he to his companion, it was a most awfuljudgment--heigho!--it is not bad that kid, eh? Poor, dearGlaucus!--what a jaw the lion has too! Ah, ah, ah!'

  And Sallust sobbed loudly--the fit was stopped by a counteraction ofhiccups.

  'Take a cup of wine,' said the freedman.

  'A thought too cold: but then how cold Glaucus must be! Shut up thehouse to-morrow--not a slave shall stir forth--none of my people shallhonour that cursed arena--No, no!'

  'Taste the Falernian--your grief distracts you. By the gods it does--apiece of that cheesecake.'

  It was at this auspicious moment that Sosia was admitted to the presenceof the disconsolate carouser.

  'Ho--what art thou?'

  'Merely a messenger to Sallust. I give him this billet from a youngfemale. There is no answer that I know of. May I withdraw?'

  Thus said the discreet Sosia, keeping his face muffled in his cloak, andspeaking with a feigned voice, so that he might not hereafter berecognized.

  'By the gods--a pimp! Unfeeling wretch!--do you not see my sorrows?Go! and the curses of Pandarus with you!'

  Sosia lost not a moment in retiring.

  'Will you read the letter, Sallust?' said the freedman.

  'Letter!--which letter?' said the epicure, reeling, for he began to seedouble. 'A curse on these wenches, say I! Am I a man to thinkof--(hiccup)--pleasure, when--when--my friend is going to be eat up?'

  'Eat another tartlet.'

  'No, no! My grief chokes me!'

  'Take him to bed said the freedman; and, Sallust's head now decliningfairly on his breast, they bore him off to his cubiculum, stillmuttering lamentations for Glaucus, and imprecations on the unfeelingovertures of ladies of pleasure.

  Meanwhile Sosia strode indignantly homeward. 'Pimp, indeed!' quoth heto himself. 'Pimp! a scurvy-tongued fellow that Sallust! Had I beencalled knave, or thief. I could have forgiven it; but pimp! Faugh!There is something in the word which the toughest stomach in the worldwould rise against. A knave is a knave for his own pleasure, and athief a thief for his own profit; and there is something honorable andphilosophical in being a rascal for one's own sake: that is doing thingsupon principle--upon a grand scale. But a pimp is a thing that defilesitself for another--a pipkin that is put on the fire for another man'spottage! a napkin, that every guest wipes his hands upon! and thescullion says, "by your leave" too. A pimp! I would rather he had calledme parricide! But the man was drunk, and did not know what he said;and, besides, I disguised myself. Had he seen it had been Sosia whoaddressed him, it would have been "honest Sosia!" and, "worthy man!" Iwarrant. Nevertheless, the trinkets have been won easily--that's somecomfort! and, O goddess Feronia! I shall be a freedman soon! and then Ishould like to see who'll call me pimp!--unless, indeed, he pay mepretty handsomely for it!'

  While Sosia was soliloquising in this high-minded and generous vein, hispath lay along a narrow lane that led towards the amphitheatre and itsadjacent palaces. Suddenly, as he turned a sharp corner he foundhimself in the midst of a considerable crowd. Men, women, and children,all were hurrying or laughing, talking, gesticulating; and, ere he wasaware of it, the worthy Sosia was borne away with the noisy stream.

  'What now?' he asked of his nearest neighbor, a young artificer; 'whatnow? Where are all these good folks thronging?' Does any rich patrongive away alms or viands to-night?'

  'Not so, man--better still,' replied the artificer; 'the noblePansa--the people's friend--has granted the public leave to see thebeasts in their vivaria. By Hercules! they will not be seen so safelyby some persons to-morrow.'

  'Tis a pretty sight,' said the slave, yielding to the throng thatimpelled him onward; 'and since I may not go to the sports to-morrow, Imay as well take a peep at the beasts to-night.'

  'You will do well,' returned his new acquaintance, 'a lion and a tigerare not to be seen at Pompeii every day.'

  The crowd had now entered a broken and wide space of ground, on which,as it was only lighted scantily and from a distance, the press becamedangerous to those whose limbs and shoulders were not fitted for a mob.Nevertheless, the women especially--many of them with children in theirarms, or even at the breast--were the most resolute in forcing theirway; and their shrill exclamations of complaint or objurgation wereheard loud above the more jovial and masculine voices. Yet, amidst themwas a young and girlish voice, that appeared to come from one too happyin her excitement to be alive to the inconvenience of the crowd.

  'Aha!' cried the young woman, to some of her companions, 'I always toldyou so; I always said we should have a man for the lion; and now we haveone for the tiger too! I wish tomorrow were come!'

  Ho, ho! for the merry, merry show, With a forest of faces in every row! Lo! the swordsmen, bold as the son of Alcmaena, Sweep, side by side, o'er the hushed arena. Talk while you may, you will hold your breath When they meet in the grasp of the glowing death! Tramp! tramp! how gaily they go! Ho! ho! for the merry, merry show!

  'A jolly girl!' said Sosia.

  'Yes,' replied the young artificer, a curly-headed, handsome youth.'Yes,' replied he, enviously; 'the women love a gladiator. If I hadbeen a slave, I would have soon found my schoolmaster in the lanista!'

  'Would you, indeed?' said Sosia, with a sneer. 'People's notionsdiffer!'

  The crowd had now arrived at the place of destination; but as the cellin which the wild beasts were confined was extremely small and narrow,tenfold more vehement than it hitherto had been was the rush of theaspirants to obtain admittance. Two of the officers of theamphitheatre, placed at the entrance, very wisely mitigated the evil bydispensing to the foremost only a limited number of tickets at a time,and admitting no new visitors till their predecessors had sated theircuriosity. Sosia,
who was a tolerably stout fellow and not troubledwith any remarkable scruples of diffidence or good breeding, contrivedto be among the first of the initiated.

  Separated from his companion the artificer, Sosia found himself in anarrow cell of oppressive heat and atmosphere, and lighted by severalrank and flaring torches.

  The animals, usually kept in different vivaria, or dens, were now, forthe greater entertainment of the visitors, placed in one, but equallyindeed divided from each other by strong cages protected by iron bars.

  There they were, the fell and grim wanderers of the desert, who have nowbecome almost the principal agents of this story. The lion, who, asbeing the more gentle by nature than his fellow-beast, had been moreincited to ferocity by hunger, stalked restlessly and fiercely to andfro his narrow confines: his eyes were lurid with rage and famine: andas, every now and then, he paused and glared around, the spectatorsfearfully pressed backward, and drew their breath more quickly. But thetiger lay quiet and extended at full length in his cage, and only by anoccasional play of his tail, or a long impatient yawn, testified anyemotion at his confinement, or at the crowd which honored him with theirpresence.

  'I have seen no fiercer beast than yon lion even in the amphitheatre ofRome,' said a gigantic and sinewy fellow who stood at the right hand ofSosia.

  'I feel humbled when I look at his limbs,' replied, at the left ofSosia, a slighter and younger figure, with his arms folded on hisbreast.

  The slave looked first at one, and then at the other. 'Virtus inmedio!--virtue is ever in the middle!' muttered he to himself; 'a goodlyneighborhood for thee, Sosia--a gladiator on each side!'

  'That is well said, Lydon,' returned the huger gladiator; 'I feel thesame.'

  'And to think,' observed Lydon, in a tone of deep feeling, to think thatthe noble Greek, he whom we saw but a day or two since before us, sofull of youth, and health, and joyousness, is to feast yon monster!'

  'Why not?' growled Niger, savagely: 'many an honest gladiator has beencompelled to a like combat by the emperor--why not a wealthy murderer bythe law?'

  Lydon sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and remained silent. Meanwhile thecommon gazers listened with staring eyes and lips apart: the gladiatorswere objects of interest as well as the beasts--they were animals of thesame species; so the crowd glanced from one to the other--the men andthe brutes--whispering their comments and anticipating the morrow.

  'Well!' said Lydon, turning away, 'I thank the gods that it is not thelion or the tiger I am to contend with; even you, Niger, are a gentlercombatant than they.'

  'But equally dangerous,' said the gladiator, with a fierce laugh; andthe bystanders, admiring his vast limbs and ferocious countenance,laughed too.

  'That as it may be,' answered Lydon, carelessly, as he pressed throughthe throng and quitted the den.

  'I may as well take advantage of his shoulders,' thought the prudentSosia, hastening to follow him: 'the crowd always give way to agladiator, so I will keep close behind, and come in for a share of hisconsequence.'

  The son of Medon strode quickly through the mob, many of whom recognizedhis features and profession.

  'That is young Lydon, a brave fellow: he fights to-morrow,' said one.

  'Ah! I have a bet on him,' said another; 'see how firmly he walks!'

  'Good luck to thee, Lydon!' said a third.

  'Lydon, you have my wishes,' half whispered a fourth, smiling (a comelywoman of the middle class)--'and if you win, why, you may hear more ofme.'

  'A handsome man, by Venus!' cried a fifth, who was a girl scarce in herteens. 'Thank you,' returned Sosia, gravely taking the compliment tohimself.

  However strong the purer motives of Lydon, and certain though it be thathe would never have entered so bloody a calling but from the hope ofobtaining his father's freedom, he was not altogether unmoved by thenotice he excited. He forgot that the voices now raised in commendationmight, on the morrow, shout over his death-pangs. By nature fierce andreckless, as well as generous and warm-hearted, he was already imbuedwith the pride of a profession that he fancied he disdained, andaffected by the influence of a companionship that in reality he loathed.He saw himself now a man of importance; his step grew yet lighter, andhis mien more elate.

  'Niger,' said he, turning suddenly, as he had now threaded the crowd;'we have often quarrelled; we are not matched against each other, butone of us, at least, may reasonably expect to fall--give us thy hand.'

  'Most readily,' said Sosia, extending his palm.

  'Ha! what fool is this? Why, I thought Niger was at my heels!'

  'I forgive the mistake,' replied Sosia, condescendingly: 'don't mentionit; the error was easy--I and Niger are somewhat of the same build.'

  'Ha! ha! that is excellent! Niger would have slit thy throat had heheard thee!'

  'You gentlemen of the arena have a most disagreeable mode of talking,'said Sosia; 'let us change the conversation.'

  'Vah! vah!' said Lydon, impatiently; 'I am in no humor to converse withthee!'

  'Why, truly,' returned the slave, 'you must have serious thoughts enoughto occupy your mind: to-morrow is, I think, your first essay in thearena. Well, I am sure you will die bravely!'

  'May thy words fall on thine own head!' said Lydon, superstitiously, forhe by no means liked the blessing of Sosia. 'Die! No--I trust my houris not yet come.'

  'He who plays at dice with death must expect the dog's throw,' repliedSosia, maliciously. 'But you are a strong fellow, and I wish you allimaginable luck; and so, vale!'

  With that the slave turned on his heel, and took his way homeward.

  'I trust the rogue's words are not ominous,' said Lydon, musingly. 'Inmy zeal for my father's liberty, and my confidence in my own thews andsinews, I have not contemplated the possibility of death. My poorfather! I am thy only son!--if I were to fall...'

  As the thought crossed him, the gladiator strode on with a more rapidand restless pace, when suddenly, in an opposite street, he beheld thevery object of his thoughts. Leaning on his stick, his form bent bycare and age, his eyes downcast, and his steps trembling, thegrey-haired Medon slowly approached towards the gladiator. Lydon pauseda moment: he divined at once the cause that brought forth the old man atthat late hour.

  'Be sure, it is I whom he seeks,' thought he; 'he is horror struck atthe condemnation of Olinthus--he more than ever esteems the arenacriminal and hateful--he comes again to dissuade me from the contest. Imust shun him--I cannot brook his prayers--his tears.'

  These thoughts, so long to recite, flashed across the young man likelightning. He turned abruptly and fled swiftly in an oppositedirection. He paused not till, almost spent and breathless, he foundhimself on the summit of a small acclivity which overlooked the most gayand splendid part of that miniature city; and as there he paused, andgazed along the tranquil streets glittering in the rays of the moon(which had just arisen, and brought partially and picturesquely intolight the crowd around the amphitheatre at a distance, murmuring, andswaying to and fro), the influence of the scene affected him, rude andunimaginative though his nature. He sat himself down to rest upon thesteps of a deserted portico, and felt the calm of the hour quiet andrestore him. Opposite and near at hand, the lights gleamed from apalace in which the master now held his revels. The doors were open forcoolness, and the gladiator beheld the numerous and festive groupgathered round the tables in the atrium; while behind them, closing thelong vista of the illumined rooms beyond, the spray of the distantfountain sparkled in the moonbeams. There, the garlands wreathed aroundthe columns of the hall--there, gleamed still and frequent the marblestatue--there, amidst peals of jocund laughter, rose the music and thelay.

  EPICUREAN SONG

  Away with your stories of Hades, Which the Flamen has forged to affright us-- We laugh at your three Maiden Ladies, Your Fates--and your sullen Cocytus.

  Poor Jove has a troublesome life, sir, Could we credit your tales of his portals-- In shuttin
g his ears on his wife, sir, And opening his eyes upon mortals.

  Oh, blest be the bright Epicurus! Who taught us to laugh at such fables; On Hades they wanted to moor us, And his hand cut the terrible cables.

  If, then, there's a Jove or a Juno, They vex not their heads about us, man; Besides, if they did, I and you know 'Tis the life of a god to live thus, man!

  What! think you the gods place their bliss--eh?-- In playing the spy on a sinner? In counting the girls that we kiss, eh? Or the cups that we empty at dinner?

  Content with the soft lips that love us, This music, this wine, and this mirth, boys, We care not for gods up above us-- We know there's no god for this earth, boys!

  While Lydon's piety (which accommodating as it might be, was in noslight degree disturbed by these verses, which embodied the fashionablephilosophy of the day) slowly recovered itself from the shock it hadreceived, a small party of men, in plain garments and of the middleclass, passed by his resting-place. They were in earnest conversation,and did not seem to notice or heed the gladiator as they moved on.

  'O horror on horrors!' said one; 'Olinthus is snatched from us! ourright arm is lopped away! When will Christ descend to protect his own?'

  'Can human atrocity go farther said another: 'to sentence an innocentman to the same arena as a murderer! But let us not despair; thethunder of Sinai may yet be heard, and the Lord preserve his saint."The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."'

  At that moment out broke again, from the illumined palace, the burden ofthe reveller's song:--

  We care not for gods up above us-- We know there's no god for this earth, boys!

  Ere the words died away, the Nazarenes, moved by sudden indignation,caught up the echo, and, in the words of one of their favorite hymns,shouted aloud:--

  THE WARNING HYMN OF THE NAZARENES

  Around--about--for ever near thee, God--OUR GOD--shall mark and hear thee! On his car of storm He sweeps! Bow, ye heavens, and shrink, ye deeps! Woe to the proud ones who defy Him!-- Woe to the dreamers who deny Him! Woe to the wicked, woe! The proud stars shall fail-- The sun shall grow pale-- The heavens shrivel up like a scroll-- Hell's ocean shall bare Its depths of despair, Each wave an eternal soul! For the only thing, then, That shall not live again Is the corpse of the giant TIME.

  Hark, the trumpet of thunder! Lo, earth rent asunder! And, forth, on His Angel-throne, He comes through the gloom, The Judge of the Tomb, To summon and save His own! Oh, joy to Care, and woe to Crime, He comes to save His own! Woe to the proud ones who defy Him! Woe to the dreamers who deny Him! Woe to the wicked, woe!

  A sudden silence from the startled hall of revel succeeded these ominouswords: the Christians swept on, and were soon hidden from the sight ofthe gladiator. Awed, he scarce knew why, by the mystic denunciations ofthe Christians, Lydon, after a short pause, now rose to pursue his wayhomeward.

  Before him, how serenely slept the starlight on that lovely city! howbreathlessly its pillared streets reposed in their security!--how softlyrippled the dark-green waves beyond!--how cloudless spread, aloft andblue, the dreaming Campanian skies! Yet this was the last night for thegay Pompeii! the colony of the hoar Chaldean! the fabled city ofHercules! the delight of the voluptuous Roman! Age after age hadrolled, indestructive, unheeded, over its head; and now the last rayquivered on the dial-plate of its doom! The gladiator heard some lightsteps behind--a group of females were wending homeward from their visitto the amphitheatre. As he turned, his eye was arrested by a strangeand sudden apparition. From the summit of Vesuvius, darkly visible atthe distance, there shot a pale, meteoric, livid light--it trembled aninstant and was gone. And at the same moment that his eye caught it,the voice of one of the youngest of the women broke out hilariously andshrill:--

  TRAMP! TRAMP! HOW GAILY THEY GO! HO, HO! FOR THE MORROW'S MERRY SHOW!

 

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