Waki Waltari

The Roman by Mika Waltari

They knelt, Tullia too, and with a few words the knight blessed the bread and the wine to the flesh and blood of Christ. They received grace with tears in dieir eyes and then kissed each other tenderly. Tullia said that she felt a trembling within her as if it were a foretaste of paradise. She was going there, hand in hand with my father, or wherever else he was going.

The Praetorians admitted that they could not see anything evil in this witchcraft. Then the centurion coughed meaningfully, after once again looking upward. My father hastily paid the bill, left a generous tip and gave the rest of the money to be divided among the centurion and the Praetorians, asking once more for their forgiveness for causing them so much trouble and blessing them in the name of Christ. The centurion delicately suggested that perhaps it would be best if they now moved behind the burial monument, for he had orders to accomplish his task as discreetly as possible.

The Christian knight now burst out weeping and said that when he had blessed the bread and wine, he had suddenly felt such certainty and knowledge that he no longer wished to wait out the rest of his years. He was tormented by the thought of so many humble Christians being allowed to suffer in the circus for the sake of the name of Christ, and perhaps he himself would not be able to stand fast in the approaching oppression. So he asked the centurion to allow him to take man’s most wonderful journey by cutting off his head too. He was as guilty as the other Christians, and the same punishment should come to him as to them.

The centurion marveled, but after a moment’s thought, admitted that he would probably not be failing in his duty in the slightest if he permitted the young man to die together with my father and Tullia. The result of this was that some listeners who had been sitting alongside the company eagerly begged for the same joy. I must add that I was told that my father had invited them all to liberal quantities of wine.

But the centurion refused firmly and said that his favor had its limits. One extra person he could execute and enter in his report, but to put several to death would attract attention and bring with it unnecessary wax-tablet filling, and his writing was not as good as it might be.

Instead he admitted that everything he had seen and heard had made such an impression on him that he would very much like to hear more about these things sometime. Christ was evidently a powerful god, if he could make death into a joy to his followers. At least, he had never heard of anyone who would be willing to die voluntarily, for instance, for Jupiter, nor even Bacchus. Although possibly Venus would be another matter.

 

 

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The Praetorians took my father, Tullia and the knight, whose name the centurion drunkenly scratched on his wax tablet at the last minute, behind the monument and picked out the best swordsman, who would be able to sever their heads from their bodies with one blow. My father and Tullia died kneeling, hand in hand. One of the Christians who witnessed it all, and afterwards told me about it, maintained that the earth trembled and the sky opened in flames, dazzling the countrymen. But I expect he said that to please me or else he had dreamed it.

The Praetorians drew lots on who would have to stay behind to guard the bodies until relatives took charge of them. When those standing around saw this, they offered to see to the bodies, for all Christians were brothers and in that way each other’s relatives. The centurion regarded this statement as legally doubtful but accepted the offer gratefully, for he did not want to rob the guard of the pleasure of the circus show. It was about midday when they marched at the double back to the city and then to the circus on the other side of the river, in the hope of still getting a standing place among the other Praetorians.

The Christians took care of the bodies of my father, Tullia and the young knight. Out of consideration for the ancient family he belonged to, I shall not give the knight’s name, for he was the only son of elderly parents and he caused them great grief by his insane act. They had spoiled him and overlooked his association with Christians in the hope that in time he would forget such foolishness, in the way that young men in general, as soon as they marry, forget their barren philosophical speculations.

The bodies were tended with respect and buried uncremated in the earth. So my father did not use the burial place he had bought near the royal tombs in Caere, but I do not think he would have minded. At that time the Christians had begun to cut underground galleries and chambers and to bury their dead there. It is said that they hold their secret meetings in these underground places. This is considered sure evidence that their faith is corrupt since they do not respect the rest of their own dead. But by all means respect the catacombs, Julius, my son, and leave them in peace when your time comes, for in one of them lies your father’s father, awaiting the day of resurrection.

 

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