CHAPTER II
IN C[AE]SAR'S PALACE.
Passing beneath the even then grim and hoary archway of the PortaCapena, or Capuan Gate, with the dripping aqueduct above it, thecenturion and his secretary traversed rapidly the crowded streets of afashionable suburb--now mere mouldering mounds of desolation--to theImperial Palace on the Palatine Hill. This eminence, which is now amass of crumbling ruins, honey-combed with galleries and subterraneancorridors through what was once the stately apartments of the Lords ofthe World, where wandering tourists peer and explore and artists sketchthe falling arch or fading fresco of the banquet halls and chambers of along line of emperors, was then the scene of life and activity, of pompand splendour. Marble courts and columned porticos stretched on inalmost endless vistas, covering many acres of ground. Flashing fountainsleaping sunward sparkled in the beams of noonday, diffusing a coolnessthrough the air, which was fragrant with blossoms of the orange andmagnolia trees growing in the open courts. Snowy statuary gleamed amidthe vivid foliage, and beneath the shadow of the frescoed corridors.
Having dismounted at the outer court and given their horses toobsequious grooms, Sertorius and the Greek repaired each to a marblebath to remove the stains of travel before entering the presence of theEmperor. Having made their toilet they advanced to the inner court. Theguards who stood in burnished mail at the portal of the palacerespectfully made way for the well-known imperial officer, but wereabout to obstruct the passage of the Greek secretary, when with agesture of authority Sertorius bade the soldier to permit the man topass.
"Quite right, Max, as a rule: but wrong this time. He accompanies me onbusiness of state, before the Emperor."
Two lictors in white tunics with scarlet hem, and bearing each thefasces or bundle of rods bound with filets from the top of whichprojected a polished silver axe, came forward and conducted thecenturion into the Imperial presence chamber, the secretary remaining inan ante-room.
The lictors draw aside a heavy gold-embroidered curtain, and Sertoriusstood in the presence of the Lord of the World, the man to whom divinehonours had been ascribed, who held in his hand the lives of all hismyriads of subjects, and the word of whose mouth uttering his despoticwill might consign even the loftiest, without form or process of law, todegradation or death.
Let us note for a moment what manner of man this god on earth, thisDiocletian, whose name is remembered with abhorrence and execration, thedegenerate usurper of the august name of the C[ae]sars, may be. He sits inan ivory, purple-cushioned chair, near a table of inlaid precious woods.His short and obese figure is enswathed in the folds of an amplecrimson-bordered toga, or fine linen vestment of flowing folds. Hisbroad, coarse features are of plebeian cast, for he had been originallya Dalmatian slave, or at least the son of a slave; but thelong-continued exercise of despotic authority had given an imperioushaughtiness to his bearing. He was now in his fifty-eighth year, but hisfeatures, coarsened and bloated by sensuality, gave him a much olderaspect. He was dictating to a secretary who sat at the table writingwith a reed pen on a parchment scroll, when the lictors, lowering theirfasces and holding their hands above their eyes, as if to protect theirdazzled eyes from the effulgence of the noonday sun, advanced into theapartment.
"May it please your divine Majesty," said one of the servile lictors,"the centurion whom you summoned to your presence awaits your Imperialpleasure."
"Most humbly at your Imperial Majesty's service," said Sertorius, comingforward with a profound inclination of his uncovered head. He had lefthis helmet and sword in the ante-chamber.
"Flaccus Sertorius, I have heard that thou art a brave and faithfulsoldier, skilled in affairs of State as well as in the art of war. Ihave need of such to carry out my purpose here in Rome. Vitalius, thescribe," he went on, with an allusive gesture toward the secretary, "iscopying a decree to be promulgated to the utmost limits of the empireagainst the pestilent atheism of the accursed sect of Christians, whohave spawned and multiplied like frogs throughout the realm. Thisexecrable superstition must be everywhere destroyed and the worship ofthe gods revived.[6] Even hero in Rome the odious sect swarms likevermin, and 'tis even said that the precincts of this palace are notfree. Now, purge me this city as with a besom of wrath. Spare not youngor old, the lofty or the low; purge even this palace, and look to itthat thy own head be not the forfeit if you fail. This seal shall beyour warrant;" and lashing himself into rage till the purple veins stoodout like whipcords on his forehead, he tossed his signet ring across thetable to the scribe, who prepared a legal instrument to which he affixedthe Imperial seal.
"May it please your Imperial Majesty," said the centurion, with anobeisance, "I am a rude soldier, unskilled to speak in the Imperialpresence; but I have fought your Majesty's enemies in Iberia, in Gaul,in Dacia, in Pannonia, and in Libya, and am ready to fight themanywhere. Nevertheless, I would fain be discharged from this office ofcensor of the city. I know naught, save by Rumour, who is ever a lyingjade, your Imperial Majesty, against this outlawed sect. And I know someof them who were brave soldiers in your Imperial Majesty's service, andmany others are feeble old men or innocent women and children. I prayyou send me rather to fight against the barbarian Dacians than againstthese."
"I was well informed then that you were a bold fellow," exclaimed theEmperor, his brow flushing in his anger a deeper hue; "but I have needof such. Do thy duty, on thy allegiance, and see that thou soon bringthese culprits to justice. Is it not enough that universal rumourcondemns them? They are pestilent sedition-mongers, and enemies of thegods and of the State."
"I, too, am a worshipper of the gods," continued the intrepid soldier,"and will fail not to keep my allegiance to your Imperial Majesty, tothe State, and to those higher powers," and he walked backward out ofthe Imperial presence. As he rejoined his secretary a cloud sat on hisbrow. He was moody and taciturn, and evidently little pleased with hisnewly-imposed duties. But the confirmed habit of unquestioning obedienceinherent in a Roman soldier led to an almost mechanical acceptance ofhis uncongenial task. Emerging from the outer court he proceeded to hisown house, in the populous region of the Aventine Hill, now a desertedwaste, covered with kitchen gardens and vineyards. In the meantime weturn to another part of the great Imperial palace.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] Even as far west as Spain the following inscription has been found,which seems designed as a funeral monument of dead and buriedChristianity: "DIOCLETIAN. C[AE]S. AVG. SVPERSTITIONE CHRIST. VBIQ.DELETAET CVLTV, DEOR. PROPAGATO"--"To Diocletian, C[ae]sar Augustus, theChristian superstition being everywhere destroyed and the worship of thegods extended." But though apparently destroyed, Christianity, like itsdivine Author, instinct with immortality, rose triumphant over all itsfoes.
Valeria, the Martyr of the Catacombs: A Tale of Early Christian Life in Rome Page 4