Waki Waltari

The Roman by Mika Waltari

Exhausted from hunger, thirst and lack of sleep, many of the Christians sat down on the edge of the road when their legs would no longer carry them, but they were not pestered any longer. They called out after the others, begging not to be left behind and deprived of their share of Christ’s joy. So the more enterprising among the Christians hired some of the wagons used to cart rubble and building stone, and then put those who had fallen by the wayside into them. Soon the procession was being followed by a hundred or so carts so that no one need be left behind. Tigellinus did nothing to stop this, but he swore that the Christians were more obdurate in their superstition than he ever would have imagined.

He made a mistake when he led the procession across Aesculapius island and the Jewish part of Vatican. Dusk had already fallen and when the crowd following the procession saw the Jews, they again became unruly, began to ill-treat them and break into Jewish houses for loot. Tigellinus had to order most of the procession’s escort to restore order, so the stream of Christians had to make their own way to the circus on Vatican.

I heard the men and women at the head of the procession ask one another whether they were going the right way. Some went astray in the darkness of Agrippina’s gardens, but toward the morning, everyone had somehow found his way to the circus. It was said that not a single Chris- tian had run away, but I find that hard to believe. As darkness fell and the fights raged in the fourteenth sector of the city, it would have been a simple matter for anyone to slip away home.

Naturally there was not enough room for that number of people in the cellars and stables, and many had to lie down on the arena sand. Tigel-linus allowed them to make up beds from the hay store and he had the water pipes in the stables opened for them. This was not from consideration, but because he as a Roman was responsible for the Christians.

Some children who had lost their parents and some girls whom the Praetorians had singled out of the crowd to defile, thus fulfilling the demands of Roman law that no virgin can be condemned to physical punishment, I sternly commantled to go home, in the name of Christ, for otherwise they would not have obeyed me. I was not the only one who in the confusion was forced to appeal to Christ. I overheard the Praetorians in charge of the queues for water clumsily giving their orders in the name of Christ. Otherwise they would never have kept any order at all.

Depressed, I returned to Tigellinus and we again reported to Nero on Esquiline.

“Where have you been?” Nero said impatiently when he saw me. “Just when I needed you for once. Tell me what you’ve got in the way of wild animals in the menagerie?”

I told him the choice was very limited, for we had been forced to reduce the number of animals because of the water and fodder shortages caused by the fire. For hunting game, I explained unsuspectingly, I had virtually nothing except Hyrcanian bison and harrier hounds. Sabina had her lions, of course.

 

 

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“But,” I said gloomily, “with the crushing new water taxes, I don’t think we’ll be able to increase our stock of animals.”

“During my reign,” said Nero, “I have been accused of being too mild and of widening the gap still further between the people and the former great virtues of Rome. So for once, they will have what they want, however distasteful I personally think it is. But the Christians’ terrible crime and their enduring hatred of mankind justify it. So they’ll go to the wild animals. I’ve already gone through the myths to find ideas for suitable tableaux. Fifty virgins can be the Danaides and fifty youths their menfolk. Dirce was the one who was tied to the horns of a bull.”

“But,” I protested, “during your reign, not even the worst criminals have been condemned to the wild animals. I thought we’d finished with that kind of barbaric custom. I’m not prepared for that sort of thing. I haven’t the necessary wild animals. No, I refuse to consider it.”

Nero’s neck swelled with rage.

“Rome is mistaken if she thinks I’m afraid to see blood in the sand,” he cried. “You will do as I say. Whoever represents Dirce shall be tied to the horns of the bison. The hounds can tear a hundred or so to pieces.”

“But, my lord,” I said. “They are trained to hunt only wild animals. They won’t touch human beings.” After a moment’s thought, I added cautiously: “Of course, we could arm the prisoners and let them hunt the bison with the hounds. Even experienced hunters can lose their lives in that kind of hunting. You’ve seen that for youself.”

Nero stared at me and then his voice became dangerously quiet.

“Are you defying my wishes, Manilianus?” he said. “I think I have made it quite clear what kind of display I wish from you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” I cried. “You are out of your mind, my lord. There isn’t time.”

Nero raised his great head and looked at me.

“Nothing is impossible for Nero,” he said boastfully. “Tomorrow is Idus day. The Senate assembles at dawn, and I shall inform it that the fire-raisers have been exposed. As soon as the entire Senate has had time to get to the circus, the displays will begin. My decision in a case like this is a legally valid verdict and a trial will not be necessary. My learned friends here are in agreement on that. Only out of respect for the Senate and to put an end to certain evil rumors once and for all, shall I make this statement to the Senate and invite them to the circus and then they can see with their own eyes that Nero is not afraid of blood.”

 

 

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