The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE CHURCH

  When they sought to leave their place of refuge, Esca and Mariamne foundthemselves hemmed in and drawn back by the continued tumult that wasraging through the surrounding quarters. On all sides were heard theshouts of victory, the shrieks of despair, and the mad riot of drunkenmirth. Occasionally, flying parties of pursuers or pursued swept throughthe very outskirts of the gardens themselves, compelling the Briton andhis charge to plunge deeper into its gloomy solitudes for concealment.

  At length they reached a place of comparative safety, under a knot of darkcypresses that had escaped the general conflagration, and here they pausedto take breath and listen, Mariamne becoming every moment more composedand tranquil, while Esca, with a beating heart, calculated the manychances that must still be risked ere they could reach her home beyond theTiber, and he could place the daughter in safety under her father's roofonce more. It was very dark where they were, for the cypresses grew thickand black between them and the sky. The place had probably in former timesbeen a favourite resort in the noonday heat. There were the remains of agrotto or summer-house not yet wholly destroyed, and the fragments of awide stone basin, from which a fountain had once shot its sparkling dropsinto the summer air. Several alleys, too, cut in the young plantations,had apparently converged at this spot; and although these were muchovergrown and neglected, one still formed, so to speak, a broad whitestreet of turf, hemmed in by walls of quivering foliage, dark and massive,but sprinkled here and there with points of silver in the moonlight.

  Mariamne crept closer to her companion's side.

  "I feel so safe and so happy with you," said she caressingly. "We seem tohave changed places. You are the one who is now anxious and--no, notfrightened--but ill at ease. Esca! what is it?" she asked with a start, as,looking fondly up in his face, she caught its expression of actual terrorand dismay.

  His blue eyes were fixed like stone. With parted lips and rigid features,his whole being seemed concentrated into the one effort of seeing, andbacked by the dark shadows of the cypress, his face, usually so frank andfearless, was paler even than her own. Following with her eyes thedirection of his glance, she, too, was something more than startled atwhat she saw. Two black figures, clad in long and trailing garments, movedslowly into sight, and crossed the sheet of moonlight which flooded thewide avenue, with solemn step and slow. These again were followed by twoin white, looking none the less ghostly that their outlines were soindistinctly defined, the head and feet being alone visible, and the restof the figure wrapped, as it were, in mist. Then came two more in black,and thus in alternate pairs the unearthly procession glided by; only, erethe half of it had passed, a something, not unlike the human form, drapedin a white robe, seemed to float horizontally, at a cubit's height, abovethe line. A low and wailing chant, too, rose and fell fitfully on thelisteners' ears. It was the "Kyrie Eleison," the humble plaintive dirge inwhich the Christian mourned, not without hope, for his dead.

  Fear was no familiar sentiment in Esca's breast. It could not remain therelong. He drew himself up, and the colour rushed back redly to his brow.

  "They are spirits!" said he; "spirits of the wood, on whose domains wehave trespassed. Good or evil, we will resist them to the last. They willsacrifice us to their vengeance if we show the least signs of fear."

  She was proud of his courage even then--the courage that could defy, thoughit had not been able to shake off, the superstitions of his northernbirthplace. It was sweet, too, to think that from her lips he must learnwhat was truth, both of this world and of the next.

  "They are no spirits!" she answered. "They are Christians burying theirdead. Esca, we shall be safe with them, and they will show us how to leavethis place unobserved."

  "Christians?" he replied doubtfully; "and we, too, are Christians, are wenot? I would they were armed, though," he added reflectively. "With twentygood swordsmen, I would engage to take you unmolested from one end of Rometo the other; but these, I fear, are only priests. Priests! and thelegions are loose even now all over the city!"

  He was but a young disciple, thought his loving teacher, and many a defeatmust be experienced, many a rebuff sustained, ere dependence on his owncourage is rooted out of a brave man's heart, to be replaced by thatnobler fortitude which relies solely on the will of Heaven. Yet a braveman is no bad material out of which to form a good one.

  They left their hiding-place, and hastened down the alley after thedeparting Christians. In a secluded place, where the remaining trees grewthickest and most luxuriant--where the noontide ray had least power topenetrate, the procession had halted. The grave was already being dug. Asspadeful after spadeful of loose earth fell with a dull grating sound onthe sward, or trickled back into the cavity, the dirge wailed on, nowlowered and repressed like the stifled sob of one who weeps in secret, nowrising into notes of chastened triumph, that were almost akin to joy. Andhere, where Maecenas, and his poets and his parasites, had met, withgarland and goblet, to while away the summer's day in frivolousdisputations, arguing on the endless topics of here and hereafter, lifeand death, body and soul; groping blindly and in vain throughout thelabyrinth for a clue--sneering at Pythagoras, refuting Plato, and maligningSocrates--the body of the dead Christian was laid humbly and trustfully inthe earth, and already the departed spirit had learned the efficacy ofthose truths it had imbibed through scorn and suffering in itslifetime--truths that the heathen sages would have given goblets andgarlands, and riches and empire, and all the world besides, but to knowand believe in that supreme moment, when all around the dying fades andfails as though it had never been, and there is but one reality from whichis no escape.

  The Jewess and her champion waited a few paces off while the spade threwits last handfuls to the surface. Then the Christians gathered solemnlyand silently round the open grave, and the corpse was lowered gently intoits resting-place, and the faces that watched it sink, and stop, andwaver, and sink again out of sight, even like the life of the departed,beamed with a holy triumph, for they knew that with this wayfarer, atleast, the journey was over and the home attained. Two mourners, somewhatconspicuous from the rest, stood at either end of the grave. The one was awoman, still in the meridian of her beauty; the other a strong warlikeman, scarcely of middle age. The woman's face was turned to heaven, rapt,as it seemed in an ecstasy of prayer. She was not thinking of the poorremains, the empty shell, consigned beneath her feet to its kindred dust;but with the eye of faith she watched the spirit in its upward flight, andfor her the heavens were opened, and her child was even now disappearingthrough the golden gate. But on the man's contracted features might beread the pain of him who is too weak to bear, and yet too strong to weep.His eye followed with sad wistful glances clod after clod, as they fell into cover up the loved and lost. When the earth was flattened down aboveher head, and not till then, he seemed to look inquiringly at the vacantspace amongst the bystanders, and to know that she was gone. He clenchedhis strong hands tight, and raised his eyes at last. "It is hard to bear,"he muttered; "it is very hard to say, 'Thy will be done.'" Then he thoughtof the empty place at home, and hid his face and wept.

  A young girl, on the verge of womanhood, had been called away--calledsuddenly away--the pride and the flower and the darling of her father'shouse. He was a good man and a brave, and a believer, yet every time hischild's face rose up before him, with its bright hair and its loving eyes,something smote him, sharp and cold, like the thrust of a knife.

  When the grave was finally closed, the Christians gathered round it inprayer. Mariamne, taking Esca by the hand, came silently among them, andjoined in their devotions. It was a strange and solemn sight to thebarbarian. A circle of cloaked figures kneeling round an empty space, toworship an unseen power. On either hand a wilderness of ruin anddevastation in the heart of a great city; above, an angry glare on themidnight sky, and the shouts of maddened combatants rising and falling onthe breeze. By his side, the woman
he loved so dearly, and whom he hadthought he should never look on again. He knelt with the others, to offerhis tribute from a grateful heart. Their prayers were short and fervent,nor did they omit the form their Master had given them expressly for theiruse. When they rose to their feet, one figure stood forth amongst therest, and signed for silence with uplifted hand. This man was obviously aRoman by birth, and spoke his language with the ease, but at the same timewith the accent and phrases of the lowest plebeian class. He seemed ahandicraftsman by trade, and his palm, when he raised it impressively tobespeak attention, was hardened and scarred with toil. Low of stature,mean in appearance, coarsely clothed, with bare head and feet, there waslittle in his exterior to command interest or respect; but his frame,square and strongly built, seemed capable of sustaining a vast amount oftoil or hardship, while his face, notwithstanding its plain features,denoted repressed enthusiasm, earnest purpose, and honest singleness ofheart. He was indeed one of the pioneers of a religion, destined hereafterto cover the surface of the earth. Such were the men who went forth intheir master's name, without scrip or sandals, or change of raiment, tooverrun and conquer the world--who took no thought what they should saywhen brought before the kings, and governors, and great ones of the earth,trusting only in the sanctity of their mission, and the inspiration underwhich they spoke. Having little learning, they could refute the wisestphilosophers. Having neither rank nor lineage, they could beard theProconsul on his judgment-seat or the Caesar on his throne. Homely andignorant, they feared not to wander far and wide through strangecountries, and hostile nations, spreading the good tidings with a simpleungrudging faith that forced men to believe. Weak by nature it may be, andtimid by education, they descended into the arena to meet their martyrdomfrom the hungry lion, with a quiet fortitude such as neither soldier norgladiator had courage to display. It was a moral their Master never ceasedto inculcate, that His was a message sent not to the noble, and theprosperous, and the distinguished, for these, if they wished to find Him,might make their own opportunities to seek Him out; but to the poor andlowly, the humble and forlorn, especially to those who were in distressand sorrow, who, having none to help them here, might rely all the moreimplicitly on His protection, who is emphatically the friend of thefriendless.

  Therefore, the men who did His work seem to have been chosen principallyfrom the humbler classes of society, from such as could speak to themultitude in homely phrases and with familiar imagery; whose authority themost careless and unthinking might perceive originated in no aid ofextraneous circumstances, but came directly from above.

  As the speaker warmed to his subject, Esca could not but observe thechange that came over the bearing and appearance of his outward man. Atfirst the eye was dull, the speech hesitating, the manner diffident.Gradually a light seemed to steal over his whole countenance, his formtowered erect as though it had actually increased in stature, his wordsflowed freely in a torrent of glowing and appropriate language, his actionbecame dignified, and the whole man clothed himself, as it were, in themajesty of the subject on which he spoke.

  That subject was indeed simple enough, sad, it may be, from an earthlypoint of view, and yet how comforting to the mourners gathered round himbeside the new-made grave! At first he contented himself with a short andearnest tribute, clothed in the plainest form of speech, to the worth andendearing qualities of that young girl whom they had just laid in theearth. "She was precious to us all," said he, "yet words like these seembut a mockery to some present here, for whom she was the hope and the joy,and the very light of an earthly home. Grieve, I say, and weep, and wringyour hands, for such is man's weak nature, and He who took our nature uponHim sympathises with our sorrows, and, like the good physician, pitieswhile He heals. To-day your wounds are fresh, your hearts are full, youreyes are blind with tears, you cannot see the truth. To-morrow you willwonder why you mourn so bitterly; to-morrow you will say, 'It is well; weare labouring in the sun, she is resting in the shade; we are hungry andthirsty in a barren land, she is eating the bread and drinking the watersof life, in the garden of Paradise; we are weary and footsore, wayfarersstill upon the road, but she has reached her home.'

  "Yea, now at this very hour, standing here where the earth has just closedover the young face, tender and delicate even in death, would you have herback to you if you could? Those who have considered but the troubles thatsurround us now, and to whom there is no hereafter, who call themselvesphilosophers, and whose wisdom is as the wisdom of a blind man walking onthe brink of a precipice, have themselves said 'whom the gods love dieyoung'; and will you grudge that your beloved one should have been calledout of the vineyard, to take her wages and go to her rest, before theburden and heat of the day? Think what her end might have been. Think thatyou might have offered her up to bear witness to the truth, tied to astake in the foul arena, face to face with the crouching wild beastgathered for his spring. Ay! and worse even than this might have befallenthe child, whom you remember, as it were but yesterday, nestling to hermother's bosom, or clinging round her father's knees! 'The Christians tothe panther, and the maidens to the pandar!'(12) You have heard the brutalshouts and shuddered with fear and anger while you heard. And you wouldhave offered her, as Abraham offered Isaac, beating your breasts, andholding your breath for very agony the while. But is it not better thus?She has earned the day's wages, labouring but for an hour at sunrise; shehas escaped the cross, and yet has won the crown!

  "But you who hear me, envy not this young maiden, though she be nowarrived where all so long to go. Rather be proud and happy, that yourMaster cannot spare you, that He has yet work for you to do. To everyman's hand is set his appointed task, and every man shall find strengthgiven him to fulfil it when the time arrives. Some of you will bearwitness before Caesar, and for such the scourges are already knotted andthe cross is reared; but to these I need scarcely speak of loyalty, for tothem the very suffering brings with it its own fortitude, and they areindeed blessed who are esteemed worthy of the glory of martyrdom! Somemust go forth to preach the gospel in wild and distant lands; and well Iknow that neither toil, nor hardship, nor peril, will cause them to waveran hair's-breadth from their path, yet have they difficulties to meet, andfoes to contend with, that they know not of. Let them beware of pride andself-sufficiency, lest, in raising the altar, they make the sacrifice ofmore account than the spirit in which it is offered; lest in building thechurch they take note of every stone in the edifice, and lose sight of thepurpose for which it was reared. But ye cannot all be martyrs, norpreachers, nor prophets, nor chief-priests, yet every one of you, even theweakest and the lowest here present--woman, child, slave, or barbarian--isnone the less a soldier and a servant of the cross! Every one has his dutyto do, his watch to keep, his enemy to conquer. It is not much that isrequired of you--little indeed in comparison with all you have received--butthat little must be given without reserve, and with the whole heart. Hasany one of you left a duty unfulfilled? when he departs from hence let himgo home and accomplish it. Has any one an enemy? let him be reconciled.Has he done his brother a wrong? let him make amends. Has he sustained aninjury? let him forgive it. Even as you have laid in the grave theperishable body of the departed, so lay down here every earthly weakness,every unholy wish, and every evil thought. Nay, as these chief mournershave to-night parted and weaned themselves from that which they loved beston earth, so must you tear out and cast away from you the truest anddearest affections that stand between you and your service, ay, eventhough you rend them from the very inner chambers of your heart. And then,with constant effort and never-ceasing prayer, striving, step by step, andwinning, inch by inch, now slipping back it may be where the path istreacherous, and the hill is steep, to rise from your knees, humbled andtherefore stronger, gaining more than you have lost, you shall arrive atlast, where there is no strife, and no failing, where she for whom youweep to-night is even now in glory, where He whom you follow has alreadyprepared a place for you, and where you who have loved and trusted, shallbe happy for evermore!
"

  Ceasing, he spread his hands abroad, and implored a blessing on those whoheard him, after which the Christians breaking up their circle, gatheredround the bereaved parents with a few quiet words and gestures ofsympathy, such as those offer who have themselves experienced the sorrowsthey are fain to assuage.

  "I am in safety here," whispered Mariamne to the Briton, as she pointedout a dark figure, with white flowing locks, whom he now recognised asCalchas. In another moment she was in the old man's arms, who raised hiseyes to heaven, and thanked God with heartfelt gratitude for herdeliverance.

  "Your father and I," said he, "have sought you with fearful anxiety, andeven now he is raising some of his countrymen to storm the tribune'shouse, and take you from it with the strong hand. Mariamne, you hardlyknow how much your father loves his child. And I too was disturbed foryour safety, but I trusted--trusted in that Heaven which never fails theinnocent. Nevertheless, I sought for aid among my brethren, and they haveraised, even the poorest of them, such a sum as would have tempted thepraetor to interfere, even against a man like Placidus. I did but remainwith them to say a prayer while they buried their dead. But now you aresafe, and you will come back with me to your father's house, and one ofthese whom I can trust shall go to tell him at the place where his friendswere to assemble; and Esca, thy preserver for the second time, who is tome as a son, shall accompany us home--though we shall not need a guard, forthy father's friends, tried warriors every man, and armed, will meet usere we leave the wilderness for the streets."

  It was a strong temptation to the Briton, but the words he had so latelyheard had sunk deep into his heart. He, too, would fain cast in his lotamongst these earnest men. He, too, he thought, had a task to perform--acherished happiness to forego. With a timely warning, it might be in hispower to save the Emperor's life, and his very eagerness to accompanyMariamne but impressed him the more with the conviction that it was hisduty to leave her, now she was in comparative safety, and hasten on hiserrand of mercy. Calchas, too, insisted strongly on this view, and thoughMariamne was silent, and even pleaded with her eyes against the risk, heturned stoutly from their influence, and ere she was clasped in herfather's arms, the new Christian was already half-way between theEsquiline and the palace of Caesar.