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 VALERIUS; 
 
 ROMAN STORY. 
 
 They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know what's done i' the Capitol ! 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL, I. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH 
 AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON. 
 
 1821.
 
 lira.* 
 
 VALERIUS 
 
 VOL. I. 

 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/valeriusromansto01lock
 
 VALERIUS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Since you are desirous, my friends, that I 
 should relate to you, at length and in or- 
 der, the things which happened to me du- 
 ring my journey to Rome in the time of 
 Trajan, — notwithstanding the pain which 
 it must cost me to throw myself back once 
 more into many of the feelings of that event- 
 ful time, — I jcannot refuse to comply with 
 a request, the motive of which, I doubt not, 
 is as laudable as its expression is earnest. 
 I am now an old man, and have lived for
 
 threescore years in a remote province of an 
 empire, happy, for the most part, in the pro- 
 tection of enlightened, just, and benevolent 
 princes ; yet I remember, far more accurately 
 than things which occurred only afew months 
 ago, the minutest particulars of what I saw 
 and heard while I sojourned — a young man, 
 and more than half a stranger — among the 
 luxuries and cruelties of the capital of the 
 world, as yet very imperfectly recovered 
 from the effects of the flagitious tyranny 
 of the last of the Flavii. You will not 
 wonder, after you shall have heard my story, 
 that I should be able to speak so distinctly 
 about circumstances so remote ; for none of 
 you, even now, my young friends, need to be 
 informed, that out of some of those circum- 
 stances the main threads of my earthly des- 
 tiny were evolved. To that period I refer 
 the commencement of a connection, which 
 long formed the principal felicity of my do- 
 mestic life ; and if, in my conduct through 
 the years either of business or of repose, I 
 have exemplified any principles worthy of
 
 your adoption or imitation, for this also my 
 gratitude is due to the not lightly pur- 
 chased experience of the same now distant 
 period. 
 
 My father, as you all have heard, had 
 come with his legion into this island, and 
 married a lady of British blood, some years 
 before the first arrival of the great Agricola. 
 In the wars of that illustrious commander, 
 during the reigns of Vespasian and Titus, 
 he had the good fortune to find many op- 
 portunities of distinguishing himself ; but 
 when his general was recalled to the capital 
 by the mean jealousy of Domitian, he re- 
 tired from public life, and determined to 
 spend the remainder of his days in peace, 
 on the lands which belonged to him (chiefly 
 in right of his wife) here in Britain. He 
 laid the foundations of the house in which 
 I have now the pleasure of receiving you ; 
 and here, in the cultivation of his fields, 
 and in the superintendance of my educa- 
 tion, he found abundant employment for 
 the energies of a very active, though by no
 
 means an ambitious mind. Early in the reign 
 of Trajan, he died, after being confined to 
 his apartment for a few days by an illness 
 which neither my mother nor myself con- 
 sidered as seriously dangerous, till the very 
 evening of its termination. Our grief knew 
 at first no bounds ; and well might it be so, 
 for never did either Roman or British dwel- 
 ling lament the departure of a more gene- 
 rous, kind, and affectionate master. My 
 mother, who, in wedding him, had offend- 
 ed the greater part of her own kindred, now 
 that he was gone, had no tie to bind her 
 affections to the earth, excepting myself, 
 her only child, who had scarcely yet enter- 
 ed the threshold of manhood. In my so- 
 ciety, therefore, her only hope of human 
 comfort resided ; while I, on my part, loved 
 her with that strong and undivided filial 
 love, of which (however that circumstance 
 may be counterbalanced by other advan- 
 tages) I have never seen any examples 
 among sons educated at a distance from the 
 unwearied eye of parental affection.
 
 We were not rich — yet we had enough 
 for all our wants ; and the melancholy into 
 which my mother gradually declined was 
 not of a nature so severe as to prevent us 
 from spending many hours of innocent 
 happiness beneath the shade of these then 
 younger and greener elms. I look back, 
 even now, with a sad and sorrowful tender- 
 ness to the memory of that first summer and 
 more cheerful winter, which we passed to- 
 gether on this spot after the death of my 
 father. I cannot pretend to regret the ac- 
 cident which immediately afterwards sepa- 
 rated me from the most gentle of mothers 
 — Alas ! never to see her more upon the 
 earth. Yet, how deeply was the happiness 
 of my returning hour stained and embitter- 
 ed by that sorrowful privation ! There was 
 a void in my heart, which it was long be- 
 fore even the fulness of conjugal devotion 
 could entirely fill up and satisfy. In losing 
 her, I had lost the last and strongest link 
 that connected my contemplation of the 
 present with my memory of the past. My
 
 8 
 
 early years of infancy and boyhood now ex- 
 isted for nobody but myself; and I could 
 scarcely bear to look back upon them, now 
 that those eyes were closed for ever in whose 
 watchful light all their safety and almost all 
 their happiness had consisted. But I was 
 still young, and had bright hopes before me, 
 that ere long withdrew my attention from 
 the dark places of recollection. It is the com- 
 mon rule of nature, that our parents should 
 precede us to the grave ; and it is also her 
 rule, that our grief for them should not be 
 of such power as to prevent us from enter- 
 ing, after they are gone, into a zealous par- 
 ticipation both of the business and the plea- 
 sures of life. Yet, in all well regulated spi- 
 rits, the influence of that necessary and ir- 
 remediable deprivation, however time may 
 sooth and soften it, has a deep and an en- 
 during resting-place. In the midst of the 
 noisiest, busiest hours of after-life, the me- 
 mory of that buried tenderness rises up ever 
 and anon to remind us of the instability of all 
 hitman things, and wins rather than warns
 
 9 
 
 us to a deliberate contemplation of futurity. 
 Such is the gentle and abiding effect of that, 
 at first sight, grievous and altogether into- 
 lerable affliction. Now, indeed, that every 
 day brings to me some new testimonial of 
 the near approach of my own dissolution, 
 I have begun to regard all these things with 
 another eye, and to find, in the contempla- 
 tion of my reunion with the dear friends I 
 have lost, a far more than sufficient conso- 
 lation for the inconvenience occasioned to 
 me by reason of their temporary absence. 
 But it must yet be long ere the course of 
 nature shall bring this last source of happi- 
 ness near to your eyes, and teach you, as I 
 have of late been taught, how near to each 
 other at times may be found not only the 
 physical effects but the proximate causes of 
 pleasure and of pain. 
 
 One evening, towards the end of the win- 
 ter following the death of my father, I was 
 sitting with my mother in the small room 
 where we breakfasted this morning, when 
 letters were brought to me by a messenger 
 a2
 
 10 
 
 from Venta, which immediately engaged 
 the most anxious consideration of us both. 
 They were all from Rome, and written, for 
 the most part, by members of my father's 
 family resident there, none of whom either 
 my mother or myself had ever seen. It was 
 mentioned in all of them, but most fully 
 and distinctly in that of Caius Licinius, the 
 lawyer, (who was near of kin to our house,) 
 that by the death of a certain old Patrician, 
 Cneius Valerius by name, I had become le- 
 gally entitled to a very considerable for- 
 tune, to claim and take possession of which, 
 demanded my immediate presence in the 
 metropolis. My rights, said this jurist, were 
 indeed called in question by another branch 
 of the family, but werelon the spot, his pro- 
 fessional exertions, he had no doubt, would 
 be able to gain for me a complete, if not an 
 easy victory. He hinted, at the same time, 
 that whatever private interest he or any of 
 his friends could command should be hear- 
 tily at my service, for the sake of my father 
 and of my name.
 
 11 
 
 My mother and 1 endeavoured as well as 
 we could to understand the nature of the 
 case ; but the authority of Licinius, of whose 
 character we had always heard great com- 
 mendation, was sufficient of itself alone to 
 determine us in the end. After ruminating 
 for a long while in silence, my dear mother 
 at last said to me, " Yes, Caius, we must 
 part for a season. You owe it to these kind 
 friends, no less than to your father's me- 
 mory and your own interest, to make a fair 
 attempt for the recovery of this disputed 
 inheritance. You are young and have seen 
 no cities, except Venta,* which your father 
 used to call a village ; but I trust to your 
 good heart, and your love for me, that if you 
 succeed you will immediately come back to 
 enjoy your wealth here within sight of your 
 mother, and at a distance from those sud- 
 den changes to which the great city is from 
 time to time subjected. Take care that you 
 abide in Rome no longer than is absolutely 
 
 * s, e, Venta Belgarum— Winchester.
 
 12 
 
 necessary, for fearful reports have reached 
 us of the increasing wickedness of its inha- 
 bitants. Dispatch your business as speedily 
 as the circumstances of the affair may per- 
 mit, and do not grudge any expence which 
 may enable you more quickly to see the end 
 of it. To-morrow and next day must be 
 spent in preparing you necessaries for so 
 long a journey ; but on the third day I wish 
 you to depart, for there is nothing more per- 
 nicious than delay in matters of importance ; 
 and besides, my son, the sooner you go, the 
 sooner may I look for your return. And 
 now, since I know you are to depart, my 
 dear Caius, it would be but a trifling con- 
 solation for me to keep you a few days more 
 lingering here. You will take the faithful 
 Boto with you, and all will go well ; for the 
 gods will have pity on a widow, and the son 
 of a widow."
 
 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I went to bed with a heart unequally 
 divided between grief and joy. The idea 
 of parting for such a length of time from my 
 dear parent, whose whole happiness I knew 
 was centred in myself, could not but be a 
 painful one ; and this, I think, was upper- 
 most within me while I was undressing, 
 and even for a few minutes after I had laid 
 my head upon my pillow. The natural thirst 
 for novelty, however, for which so large a 
 fund of gratification was now held up to my 
 fancy, did not long suffer these melancholy 
 thoughts to predominate. The love of tra- 
 vel had never before been excited in my bo- 
 som ; but now that I knew I was so soon 
 to embark for Italy, the delights which I
 
 14 
 
 might there hope to experience came crowd- 
 ing and kindling upon my imagination. — 
 The dark and pine-clad banks of my native 
 Anton, said I, shall now be exchanged for 
 that golden- waved Tiber, of which so many 
 illustrious poets have sung — whose course 
 is continually bearing the treasures of all 
 nations to the common centre of earth — the 
 imperial city ; or conveying from thence to 
 the remotest and most barbarous regions, 
 the dictates of the most refined and exalted 
 people, whose hands have ever been invest- 
 ed with the dominion of the world. Instead 
 of moving here among the ill-cemented and 
 motley fabric of an insulated colony, and 
 seeing only the sullen submission of barba- 
 rians, on the one hand, or the paltry vanity 
 of provincial deputies on the other, I shall 
 tread the same ground with the rulers of the 
 earth, and wear, among native Romans, the 
 gown of my ancestors ; — I shall behold the 
 Forum, which has heard the eloquence of Ci- 
 cero and Hortensius — I shall ascend to the 
 Capitol, where Caesar triumphed— I shall
 
 15 
 
 wander in the luxurious gardens of Sallust, 
 or breathe the fresh air in the fields of Cato 
 — I shall gaze upon the antique majesty of 
 temples and palaces, and open my eyes on 
 all that art and nature have been able to heap 
 together through eight long centuries, for 
 the ornament of the chosen seat of wisdom 
 and valour. — It was thus that one splendid 
 vision chased another across my fancy, till 
 I fell asleep in a bewilderment of wonder 
 and admiration — to dream of nothing but 
 pomps I had never witnessed — and pleasures 
 I had never partaken. 
 
 I awoke next morning rather earlier than 
 usual, my spirits I suppose having been too 
 much excited to admit of a longer repose. 
 I came down stairs in a strange mood ; but 
 I believe my demeanour might be one of 
 almost perfect indifference; for, to say truth, 
 the melancholy idea of leaving home, and 
 parting with my mother on the one side, 
 and the gay inspiriting prospect of visiting 
 Rome on the other, had neutralized each 
 other within me ; at least in so far as was
 
 16 
 
 necessary for producing an apparent absence 
 of all keen emotion on my countenance. I 
 could not help starting, however, when, on 
 coming into the old hall in the back part of 
 the house yonder, I found my mother al- 
 readily busily engaged with her maidens in 
 preparing my wardrobe for the purposed 
 journey. She was giving directions to one 
 of them in a distinct voice when I entered ; 
 but she broke off suddenly when she saw 
 me, and I could observe that her eyes look- 
 ed red and heavy. Shortly after, she made 
 an excuse to go into an inner apartment, 
 and then one of the more ancient females 
 said to me, ceasing from her occupation, 
 " Oh, yes, Caius ; it is one thing to have the 
 appearance of being occupied among such 
 matters, and another to have one's heart 
 really in them. To my thinking, if your 
 mother had not slept little, she would not 
 have been so early astir, touching these new 
 garments of yours. But the gods grant you 
 a fair voyage, and may you come soon back, 
 such as you now are, to your mother ; for 
 
 7
 
 17 
 
 without you, her life will be a burden to her ; 
 and if you returned from the great city full 
 of such airs as we see in some of those young 
 centurions and the like, none of us would be 
 able to love you as we now do ; so that you 
 would find a house not filled with friends, 
 (as you will now leave it,) but with utter 
 hirelings." 
 
 While we were yet speaking Boto enter- 
 ed the apartment, having been already warn- 
 ed by my mother concerning the journey on 
 which he had been selected to accompany me. 
 It was not certainly on account of his skill 
 in the tongue of Rome that Boto had been 
 chosen for this duty ; for although he had 
 lived all his days in the vicinity of the Ro- 
 man colonists at Venta, there was scarcely a 
 single person within the bounds of the Bri- 
 tish Belga? that spoke worse Latin than poor 
 Boto. He was, nevertheless, a man of strong 
 natural sagacity, possessing a shrewdness of 
 discernment, concerning whatever things 
 had fallen under his customary observation, 
 such as I have seen excelled in few people
 
 18 
 
 of any station. It is true, that he was one 
 of those who lean more to the evil than the 
 good opinion concerning both the charac- 
 ters of mankind and the transactions of the 
 world. But, although this defect had not 
 escaped the observation of my mother, we 
 may suppose that she thought a turn of that 
 sort might be culpable in a British farm- 
 yard, and yet highly advantageous for a 
 young stranger about to visit, for the first 
 time, the great city — which was, and is, the 
 centre of attraction to all the vices, as well 
 as to all the wealth of the universe. 
 
 Howbeit, the man entered with a coun- 
 tenance firm and cheerful, in which no one 
 could discover any symptom either of dif- 
 fidence respecting his own qualifications for 
 this new office, or of regret at being sepa- 
 rated from these maidens (the truth is few 
 of them were either very young or pretty,) 
 in whose company so many years of gentle 
 servitude had already glided equably and 
 comfortably over his sun-burnt countenance 
 and thickly-matted head of yellow bristles.
 
 19 
 
 He held in his left hand a large broad-brim- 
 med petasus of my father's, which he was 
 polishing with his dexter, that it might as- 
 sume a more respectable appearance on the 
 meditated expedition ; over his shoulder 
 hung an old tunic of dark-coloured cloth, a 
 few rents in whose texture he was desirous 
 of having sewed up by the nimble fingers 
 of some of the damsels. His huge boots 
 already flapped about his ancles. In short, 
 it was visible to all present that the mind 
 of the man was altogether engrossed with 
 the great business of his departure from a 
 soil, which, it may be, had, according to his 
 opinion, already too long engrossed the 
 whole of his accomplishments. The care- 
 lessness and indifference stamped upon his 
 visage, had in them, at first glance, some- 
 thing repulsive to my feelings ; but nothing 
 is more effective, in situations of novelty, 
 than the influence of a merry face ; and the 
 high animal spirits depicted on the coarse 
 features of Boto, were not long in exciting 
 again within me a full portion of that juve-
 
 20 
 
 nile buoyancy, which had been somewhat 
 lowered by my observation of my dear mo- 
 ther's sorrowful deportment. 
 
 My mother, coming in soon after, par- 
 took, I think, in some measure of the ge- 
 neral hilarity which had already been diffu- 
 sed over us all by the mirthful demeanour 
 of the zealous Boto. From time to time, 
 indeed, her countenance fell, and the tre- 
 mours of her voice indicated how great was 
 the internal conflict of her feelings. The 
 work of the maidens, however, went on un- 
 weariedly, and the sounds of the wheel and 
 spindle echoed all day long through the 
 apartment. I myself, glad to escape now 
 and then from the sadness of her looks and 
 the din of their preparations, went forth 
 into my fields, pretending that I had cer- 
 tain necessary directions to give touching 
 the management of the farm affairs previous 
 to so long an absence. But Boto continual- 
 ly threw himself in my way, and discour- 
 sing loudly and triumphantly, in his own 
 coarse and jocular manner, concerning the
 
 21 
 
 fine sights we were about to see, 1 found my- 
 self constrained not merely to tolerate, but 
 to participate in the liveliness of his mood. 
 The airs of superiority he assumed in talk- 
 ing to such of the husbandmen as we met 
 with, gave them, indeed, visible dissatisfac- 
 tion, but amused me more than I chose to 
 admit by word or gesture. It was reported 
 to me, that in the evening he invited seve- 
 ral of these rusticks to drink with him in 
 one of the out-houses, where his exultation 
 knew no limits. He was going to Rome, 
 he said, for his young master very well 
 knew he could never get on in such a jour- 
 ney without the helping eye and hand of 
 Boto ; and he had a brother in Italy al- 
 ready, (he had gone over with a certain il- 
 lustrious Roman some ten years before,) 
 and from him (for he had no doubt he would 
 meet with him as soon as our arrival should 
 be known) he would doubtless receive all 
 requisite information concerning the doings 
 of the great city. The usefulness which, he 
 doubted not, I should be constrained to ac*
 
 knowledge in his manifold qualifications, 
 would, without all question, entitle him to 
 some signal reward — perhaps nothing less 
 than manumission on his return. " In that 
 case, my jolly lads," cried the fervent Boto, 
 " I shall come back with a whiter tunic 
 among you ; but believe me, I shall still be 
 the same man I leave you notwithstanding 
 — we shall have a merry cup of mead at our 
 meeting, and I shall tell you all I have seen 
 of the fine things of Rome, and the wicked- 
 ness of her inhabitants; for, if we may judge 
 from what we see among these new legion- 
 aries, one will have need to keep all one's 
 eyes about one in the midst of the gowned 
 gentry." 
 
 The two days passed more quickly than 
 any I ever remember to have spent amidst 
 this strange mixture of mirth, and sorrow, 
 and noisy preparation. I expected a very 
 melancholy supper with my mother, on the 
 evening of the second ; but, luckily for us 
 botlfc perhaps, a few of our neighbours, who 
 had heard the news of my approaching de-
 
 parture, came in to pay their respects, and 
 offer their good wishes ; so that the night 
 being far spent ere they went away, we took 
 to our respective chambers, without having 
 any opportunity of indulging in needless 
 lamentations together. I arose with a sad 
 heart in the morning, and found breakfast 
 already waiting, my mother having been 
 up a full hour before me. She kissed me 
 with silent tears when the meal was conclu- 
 ded, and our horses being already at the 
 gate, Boto and I took leave of them all, and, 
 pushing on, were glad when the winding of 
 the road shut us from the view of the group 
 that remained stationary at the porch of this 
 dwelling. We could not forbear, how- 
 ever, from pausing for a moment when we 
 had reached the height of yonder acclivity. 
 Where that single tall naked pine now stands 
 buffetedbythewind,thengrewathick grove, 
 of which that stately relic alone survives. 
 It was there that I turned round to gaze 
 once more on the quiet verdure of these pa- 
 ternal fields, and our small pastoral stream
 
 24 
 
 glistening here and there beneath the shady- 
 covert of its margin. Boto turned himself 
 with me, and, in spite of all the glee he had 
 been manifesting in prospect of our journey, 
 I could perceive, from the clouded eye of 
 the peasant, that he too, when it had come to 
 the point, was leaving, not without a strug- 
 gle, the scene of all the happy years he had 
 yet spent upon the earth. He said nothing, 
 but I saw that his heart was full, and I in- 
 terpreted the caresses he lavished from time 
 to time on his mule, as so many symbols of 
 the relenting tenderness with which he now 
 regarded all he had left behind him. I, for 
 my part, pushed my horse into a hard trot, 
 being willing to lose something of my hea- 
 viness of spirit in the spring of animal ex- 
 ertion. They that knew us saluted us kind- 
 ly and cheerily as we passed them on the 
 way ; and the bustle of the seaport, * which 
 
 * Probably Clausentum, which is supposed to be the 
 same with our Southampton ; or perhaps the ancient 
 Port Peris — i, e. Portchester.
 
 25 
 
 we reached just as night was setting in, soon 
 swallowed up or discomposed all our atten- 
 tion. 
 
 I had at first intended to cross over to 
 Gaul, and traversing that province, enter 
 Italy, either by the route of the Alps, in 
 case we could procure convenient guides 
 and companions, or by some vessel sailing 
 from Marseilles or Forum Julii to Ostium. 
 But the advice of one of my neighbours, 
 who had himself been a great traveller, made 
 me alter this plan, and resolve rather to 
 commit myself to the care of a certain cap- 
 tain, who, as he said, was just about to sail 
 for Italy, by the way of the Pillars of Her- 
 cules, in a vessel laden with tin from the 
 mines of Britain. We found this man, with 
 all his passengers, already prepared for the 
 voyage ; and it was intimated to us that we 
 should certainly set sail at an early hour in 
 the morning. 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 26 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The cries of the mariners arranging the 
 tackle of their ship, and the blowing of the 
 pilot's trumpet at the extremity of the pier, 
 were the first sounds that met our ears in 
 the morning. In a few minutes, we, and 
 all our baggage, were safe on board. The 
 anchor was uplifted, and the sail hoisted, 
 with the usual libations and other ceremo- 
 nies. In a word, such was the hurry in 
 which every thing was done, that I scarcely 
 persuaded myself I was thoroughly awake, 
 till, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the white 
 cliffs already lessening behind us. The first 
 throbs of nausea soon afterwards began to 
 agitate my stomach, and I was ere long in 
 too lamentable a condition to enjoy even
 
 27 
 
 the grotesque and rueful grimaces by which 
 the visage of Boto signified his unwilling 
 submission to the same inexorable enemy. 
 It were useless for me to detail to you 
 at length the objects which met our eyes, 
 during a voyage which is every day per- 
 formed by so many of your acquaintance, 
 and the particulars of which therefore (I 
 doubt not) have been already abundai Jy 
 explained to you all. For the first three 
 or four days, indeed, I was so heavily af- 
 flicted with this malady, occasioned by the 
 motion of the vessel, that I could bestow 
 but little attention on any external object ; 
 my eyes were so confused and dazzled, that 
 I saw nothing beyond the corner of the 
 deck, on which, for the sake of open air, I 
 had caused my carpets to be laid ; and a 
 few ejaculations to Castor and Pollux were 
 all the articulate sounds that I uttered. 
 By degrees, however, the weight of my de- 
 pression began to be somewhat alleviated ; 
 and at intervals, more particularly during 
 the night watches, if I was not altogether
 
 28 
 
 in possession of myself, I was at least well 
 enough to enjoy a sort of giddy and half- 
 drunken delight, in watching the dark bil- 
 lows as they rose and retreated from the 
 beak of the ship ; the continual dash and 
 roar with which they heaved and writhed, 
 like some innumerable route of tormented 
 and infuriated monsters ; the angry groan 
 with which they received the plunging 
 keel, and the sullen mutterings of disap- 
 pointed wrath, with which their broken 
 strength was afterwards heard growling be- 
 hind the high poop on which I reclined. 
 There were moments, also, in which the 
 comical behaviour of Boto, under this new 
 species of calamity, could furnish me, as it 
 had already done the more hardy and ex- 
 perienced of my fellow- voyagers, with great 
 store of mirth. From time to time, indeed, 
 his stomach, naturally of a brazen construc- 
 tion, recovered for a few minutes possession 
 of its usual energies, which were then suf- 
 ficiently displayed in the enormous messes 
 of salt provisions and biscuit which the
 
 29 
 
 hungry valetudinarian devoured in our pre- 
 sence. At these moments, also, the sim- 
 plicity and quaintness of his remarks failed 
 not to diffuse laughter among all that stood 
 within reach of his voice. For example. 
 Hearing some passenger remark, that there 
 was much pleasure in ploughing the deep, 
 he forthwith signified his desire to know 
 in what respects a ship resembled a plough. 
 Whereupon the stranger, laughing, con- 
 ducted the trembling rustic to the foaming 
 prow, and bade him look down and observe 
 how it cut and disparted the waters like a 
 plough-share. But Boto then asked, where 
 were the oxen ? and he was answered, that 
 the winds were the oxen, and that the 
 ropes and tackling were in place of the reins 
 and traces ; an explanation which not a 
 little amazed him. He said, however, after 
 a brief pause, that the sea appeared to him 
 to be already so much furrowed with waves, 
 that, had he been the Greek Jason, he would 
 never have thought of bestowing any ad- 
 ditional labour upon it. For which last ob-
 
 so 
 
 servation the tawny Boto was commended, 
 as not without ingenuity. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, being taken with an- 
 other fit of the nausea, (whose unwelcome 
 return had probably been accelerated by the 
 copiousness of his luncheon) poor Boto lay 
 down again at all his length upon the deck, 
 listless and inanimate, rolling his large eyes 
 about heavily and slowly, like some dying 
 fish ; and by his lugubrious wailings and 
 contortions exciting the derision of the bye- 
 standers, whom he had before more cheap- 
 ly amused by the simple manner in which 
 he expressed his wonder concerning mari- 
 time objects. Near him, upon the deck, sat 
 a certain Captain of the Praetorian Bands, 
 one of our fellow-passengers, who, more 
 than any other of those that were in the 
 ship with us, displayed a florid complexion 
 and cheerful eye, unalterable by the fluc- 
 tuation of the waters. This man had served 
 in all the wars of Agricola, and accompanied 
 that great general, even in his perilous cir- 
 cumnavigation of the islands which lie scat-
 
 31 
 
 tered in the stormy ocean, to the north of 
 Britain. He had also gone back to Rome 
 with his commander, not, like him, to ex- 
 tenuate imperial jealousy by the affectation 
 of indolence, but to seek for new occupation 
 on some other disturbed frontier of the Em- 
 pire. In Syria and Cappadocia he had spent 
 some years ; after which, he had attended 
 the Emperor himself through the territories 
 of Maesia and Illyricum, and all those coun- 
 tries he traversed, and retraversed, during 
 that shameful contest in which so many 
 Roman eagles were made the prey of bar- 
 barous enemies, and which terminated at 
 last in that cowardly treaty, by which Do- 
 mitian granted a kingly diadem to Deceba- 
 lus, and condescended to place the Roman 
 Senate among the tributaries of a Dacian 
 savage. Our friend had also strutted his 
 part in that gorgeous triumph, or rather 
 succession of triumphs, by which the defeat- 
 ed and disgraced Prince, on his return from 
 Dacia, mocked the eyes and ears of the in- 
 credulous and indignant Romans. In a 
 word, he had partaken in all kinds of for-
 
 32 
 
 tune, good and evil, and preserved his rubi- 
 cundity and equanimity unaltered in them 
 all. Having attained to a situation of com- 
 parative ease in the Praetorian Bands, he 
 had now been visiting Britain on a special 
 message from the new Emperor, and was re- 
 turning in the hope, that no future accident 
 of fortune, or princely caprice, would ever 
 again make it necessary for him to quit the 
 sports and shows, and festivities of the ca- 
 pital. 
 
 Being ignorant who Boto was, this good- 
 natured man sat down beside the suffering 
 and complaining peasant, endeavouring to 
 withdraw his attention from the pangs of 
 his sea-sickness, by pointing out the diffe- 
 rent boats which came in view as we held on 
 from theGobaean rocks,* keeping close to the 
 shore as we went, in order to shun, as well 
 as we could, the dashing and rolling fury 
 of the Aquitanic Ocean.f " Behold these 
 fishing- vessels," he would cry, " which have 
 undoubtedly been upon the coast of Rutu- 
 
 * Brest. t Bay of Biscay.
 
 pia*for oysters, or it may be about the mouth 
 of yonder Ligorisf for turbot, and are now 
 stretching all their canvas to get home with 
 their booty to Imperial Italy. Smooth be 
 your winds and fair your passage, oh rare 
 fish !" To which the downcast Boto would 
 reply, " Lavish not, oh master, your good 
 wishes upon the mute fish, which have been 
 accustomed to be tossed about during the 
 whole of their lives, but reserve them rather 
 for me (unhappy) who am thus tormented 
 in an unnatural and intolerable manner ;" or 
 perhaps, " Speak not, I beseech you, of oys- 
 ters, or of turbot, or of any other eatable, 
 for I believe 1 shall never again feel hungry, 
 so grievously are all my internal parts dis- 
 composed and tormented. Oh, that I had 
 never left my native fields, and bartered the 
 repose of my whole body for the vain hope 
 of gratification to my inquisitive eyes !" 
 
 By degrees, however, custom reconciled 
 all of us to the motion of the bark, and the 
 
 * Richborough, in Kent. f The Loire. 
 B 2
 
 34 
 
 weather being calm during the greater part 
 of the voyage, I enjoyed, at my leisure, the 
 beauties, both of the sea, and of the shores 
 alongst which we glided. From time to 
 time, we put in for water and other neces- 
 saries, to various sea-ports of the Spanish 
 Peninsula ; but our stay was never so long 
 at any place as to admit of us losing sight 
 of our vessel. Our chief delight, indeed, 
 consisted in the softness and amenity of the 
 moonlight nights we spent in sailing along 
 the coasts of Mauritania, — now the dark 
 mountains of the family of Atlas throwing 
 their shadows far into the sea — and anon, 
 its margin glittering with the white towers 
 of Siga, or Gilba, or Cartenna, or some other 
 of the rich cities of that old Carthaginian 
 region. On such nights it was the custom 
 of all the passengers to be congregated to- 
 gether upon the deck, where the silent plea- 
 sures of contemplation were, from time 
 to time, interrupted by some merry song 
 chaunted in chorus by the mariners, or per- 
 haps, some wild barbarian ditty, consecra-
 
 35 
 
 ted by the zeal of Boto to the honour of 
 some ancient indigenous hero of the North. 
 Nor did our jovial Praetorian disdain to 
 contribute his share to the general amuse- 
 ment of the assembly ; it is true, he had 
 only one stave, but, to make amends for 
 this, he was never weary of singing it. It 
 was a boisterous war- song, composed, I 
 doubt not, by some light-hearted young 
 spearman, which our centurion had pro- 
 bably learned by heart, without any regu- 
 lar exertion, from hearing it sung around 
 many a British and Dacian watch-fire. He 
 assumed, in singing it, the very air and as- 
 pect of a common legionary, and, indeed, 
 without doing so, he would not perhaps 
 have chosen to give utterance to words, in 
 which so large a share of the ordinary sol- 
 dierlike licence was embodied. It was 
 whispered to us, that Domitian himself had 
 more than once heard him sing it with sa- 
 tisfaction, although, assuredly, it contained 
 many expressions by which the imperial 
 vanity could scarcely have been flattered. 
 But there is no reason to doubt that Do-
 
 36 
 
 mitian, like other tyrants, had his hours of 
 good-natured relaxation. The cord even of 
 self-love will not always endure to be held 
 upon the stretch. 
 
 With stories of warlike achievements and 
 marine peril, with songs and music of the 
 lute, and, above all, with copious draughts 
 of generous wine, (whereof, by the centu- 
 rion's providence, the vessel contained good 
 store,) we contrived to pass the time in a 
 very cheerful manner, till we reached the 
 Lilybasan promontory. We tarried there 
 two days to refit some part of our rigging, 
 and then stretched boldly across the lower 
 sea, towards the mouth of the Tiber. We 
 were becalmed, however, for a whole day 
 and night, after we had come within sight 
 of the Pharos of Ostium, where, but for the 
 small boats that came out to us with fresh 
 fish and fruit, we should have had some dif- 
 ficulty in preserving our patience ; for, by 
 this time, our stock of wine was run to the 
 last cup, and nothing remained to be eat 
 but some hard and mouldy biscuit, which, 
 I believe, had survived two voyages be-
 
 37 
 
 tween Italy and Britain. During this un- 
 welcome period of delay, the kind Praeto- 
 rian endeavoured to give me as much in- 
 formation as he could about the steps ne- 
 cessary to be pursued by me on my arrival 
 in the city. But, to say truth, his experi- 
 ence had lain chiefly among martial expe- 
 ditions and jovial recreations, so that I could 
 easily perceive he was no great master of 
 the rules of civil life. From him, however, 
 I was glad to find, that the reputation of 
 Licinius was really as great at Rome as it 
 had been represented to us in our province ; 
 and I could observe, kind as he had been 
 during the whole voyage, that he treated 
 me with a yet greater measure of attention 
 after he was informed of my relationship to 
 that celebrated jurist. 
 
 The vessel lay quite steady and unmoved 
 upon the breast of the sea ; but, notwith- 
 standing, there were few on board that re- 
 tired to rest during the last night of our 
 voyage, so great was the excitement of our 
 minds in the prospect of so soon touching
 
 38 
 
 the soil of Italy. In me, above all, who had 
 never before even gazed upon those illus- 
 trious shores, imagination and curiosity 
 worked so powerfully, that, had I retired 
 to my sleeping-place, I am sure I could not 
 once have closed mine eye-lids. We sat, 
 therefore, all together towards the prow of 
 the ship, watching the red lustre shed from 
 the Pharos, which mingled on the glassy 
 waves with the softer and more tremulous 
 radiance of the stars. Early in the morn- 
 ing, a light breeze sprung up from the west, 
 and with joyful acclamations the sails were 
 once again uplifted. The number of mari- 
 ners on board was insufficient for impelling 
 the heavily laden vessel altogether by the 
 force of oars, but now they did not refuse 
 to assist the favouring breeze with strenu- 
 ous and lively exertion. The Praetorian 
 Captain, Sabinus, cheered and incited them 
 by his merry voice, and even the passen- 
 gers were not loath to assist them in this 
 labour. My slave, among the rest, joined in 
 the toil ; but his awkwardness soon re-
 
 39 
 
 lieved him from his seat on the bench, — a 
 disgrace which, without question, he would 
 have shared with his master, had I been 
 equally officious. 
 
 In a word, the green waves were shorn 
 rapidly asunder by our keel ; and ere long, 
 we could trace, with exactness, the form 
 and shape of those enormous structures, by 
 which the munificence of Augustus had 
 guarded and adorned that great avenue of 
 nations to the imperial city. Those huge 
 mountains of solid marble projected on either 
 side into the open deep, between which the 
 heavy billows of Tiber could be seen for- 
 cing their way into the bosom of ocean — but 
 still preserving, for a space, their own dis- 
 tinctness of colour — surpassed every notion 
 I had ever been able to form of the extent 
 to which human art may carry its rivalry 
 of nature. Their square and immoveable 
 masses were garnished here and there with 
 towers and battlements, on which the Prae- 
 torian pointed out to me the frame-work of 
 those terrible Catapults, and other enormous
 
 40 
 
 engines of Roman warfare, of which no spe- 
 cimens have ever been seen by us in Britain. 
 As we drew nearer, we could distinguish the 
 faces of the innumerable crowds collected 
 on the mole to receive us, and the other ves- 
 sels, whose approach had been deferred over 
 night by the supervening calm. At length 
 we crossed the bar, and our hawsers were 
 affixed in safety to the rings of the pier.
 
 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 No sooner had we stept upon the shore, 
 than we were surrounded by a great throng 
 of hard-favoured persons, who pulled us by 
 the cloak, with innumerable interrogations 
 and offers of service. Among these, the va- 
 rieties of form, complexion, and accent, were 
 such, that we could not regard them with- 
 out especial wonder ; for it appeared as if 
 every tribe and language under heaven had 
 sent some representative to this, the great 
 seaport of Rome. The fair hair and blue 
 eye of the Gaul or German, might here be 
 seen, close by the tawny skin of the Numi- 
 dian or Getulian slave, or the shining black- 
 ness of the Ethiopian visage. The Greek 
 merchant was ready, with his Thracian
 
 42 
 
 bondsman carryinghis glittering wares upon 
 his back — the usurer was there, with his 
 arms folded closely in his mantle — nor was 
 the Chaldean or Assyrian soothsayer a- 
 wanting, with his air of abstraction and his 
 flowing beard. 
 
 Boto, as if alarmed with the prevailing 
 bustle, and fearful lest some untoward acci- 
 dent should separate him from me, kept 
 close behind me, grasping my gown, I ra- 
 ther think, with his brawny hand. But 
 our good friend Sabinus did not long leave 
 us in this perplexity ; for, having hastily en- 
 gaged the master of a small barge, whom 
 he found there, to carry him to Rome, he 
 insisted that I and my attendant should 
 partake of this easy method of conveyance 
 along with him. Having entrusted this 
 man, therefore, with the care of all our bag- 
 gage, and appointed the time at which we 
 should be ready to depart with him, we fol- 
 lowed the guidance of the Praetorian into 
 a neighbouring tavern ; for he asserted it 
 would be absurd to leave Ostium without
 
 43 
 
 having first regaled ourselves with a good 
 breakfast, after the long abstinence (so it 
 pleased him to speak) of our voyage. Nor 
 in truth did we require much persuasion ; 
 for the smell of some new loaves, which a 
 certain lad was carrying on his head in a 
 basket, had already affected us with a strong 
 desire to banish from our palates the flavour 
 of the mouldy ship-biscuit. With bread, 
 then, hot out of the oven — with bunches of 
 golden grapes, on which the morning dew 
 had not yet had time to dry — and milk, 
 warm and foaming from the cow, we feast- 
 ed in a primaeval indeed, but nevertheless, 
 in a luxurious manner. One flask of rich 
 Falernian we exhausted on the spot ; but 
 reserved several others to be consumed du- 
 ring our ascent of the Tiber. The very 
 firmness of the ground beneath the foot is, 
 after a long sea-voyage, sufficient to give 
 hilarity to the traveller ; and there is ex- 
 quisite delight in simply walking up and 
 down, and stretching forth legs and arms 
 with the security of land motion. In this
 
 44 
 
 gratification, Boto, above all others, abun- 
 dantly indulged himself; insomuch, that 
 the centurion and I, while we were under 
 the hands of the barber, could not help 
 laughing at the uncouthness and extrava- 
 gance of his rustic agility, displayed in the 
 inn- court, of which the window of our 
 apartment commanded a prospect. The 
 barber was willing to clip our hair, as well 
 as to shave our beards, but Sabinus pre- 
 vented me from yielding to this exertion 
 of his skill by a derisive gesture ; and told 
 me afterwards, that had I submitted to such 
 an operation at Ostium, I should probably 
 have been unfit to appear in public at Rome 
 for a fortnight ; for, said he, the leaders 
 of the fashion change the style of their 
 hair-dressing continually, and it would be 
 thought extremely barbarous to enter the 
 theatre or the baths, or to be seen at any 
 spectacle, without having taken care to fol- 
 low their example in all such particulars. 
 
 Shaved, therefore, but not clipped, we 
 removed, as soon as our business at Ostium
 
 45 
 
 was ended, to that part of the river where 
 our boat waited for us ; Boto following at 
 our heels, in company with a freed man be- 
 longing to Sabinus, and bearing in a small 
 basket our store of Falernian for this lesser 
 voyage. We found the vessel small but con- 
 venient, furnished with a beautiful awning, 
 under which cushions and carpets were 
 already stretched out for our repose. The 
 oars were soon in motion, and we began 
 to emerge from among the forest of masts 
 with a rapidity which astonished me ; for 
 the multitude of vessels of all sizes, con- 
 tinually crossing and re-crossing us, was 
 so great, that at first I expected every mo- 
 ment some dangerous accident might oc- 
 cur. The skill, however, of the steersman, 
 and the alacrity with which the boatmen 
 shipped their oars on either side when the 
 signal was given from the helm, were such, 
 that we soon perceived there was no peril 
 in our circumstances ; insomuch, that ere 
 long I found myself stretched out at full 
 length, in an attitude of perfect unconcern, 
 occupied with nothing but the view on the
 
 46 
 
 shores of the river ; for from these, ev^n the 
 remarks of my merry companion had no 
 power to draw me away. By degrees, indeed, 
 even these failed altogether to keep alive 
 my attention — the sleeplessness of the pre- 
 ceding night, and the abundance of our re- 
 cent repast, conspiring to lull me into a 
 gentle doze, which continued for I know 
 not what space. I awoke, greatly refresh- 
 ed, and found we had already made consi- 
 derable progress ; for the continual succes- 
 sion of stately edifices, each surpassing the 
 other in splendour, on the banks of the 
 stream, failed not to indicate the greater vi- 
 cinity of the metropolis. The dark green of 
 the venerable groves,amidst which thebuiid- 
 ings were for the most part embosomed, and 
 the livelier beauties of the parterres which 
 here and there intervened between these 
 and the river, afforded a soft and refreshing 
 delight to my eyes, which had so long been 
 fatigued with the uniform flash and dazzle 
 of the Mediterranean waves, and the rough- 
 ness of the sea-beaten precipices. The mi- 
 nute and elaborate cultivation every where
 
 47 
 
 visible— the smoothness of the shorn turf on 
 the margin — the graceful drooping foliage 
 of the ancient planes and alders — but, above 
 all, the sublimity of the porticos and arcades, 
 and the universal air of established and in- 
 violable elegance which pervaded the whole 
 region, kept my mind in one continual ele- 
 vation of pleasurable wonder. Here and 
 there, a gentle winding of the stream con- 
 ducted us through some deep and massy 
 shade of oaks, and elms, and sycamores ; 
 whose branches, stretching far out from 
 either side, diffused a sombre and melan- 
 choly blackness almost entirely over the 
 face of Tiber. Loitering carelessly, or 
 couched supinely, beneath some of these 
 hoary branches, we could see, from time to 
 time, the figure of some stately Roman, or 
 white-robed lady, with her favourite scroll 
 of parchment in her hand. The cool and 
 glassy rippling of the water produced a 
 humming music of stillness in the air, which 
 nothing disturbed, save only the regular 
 dash of the oars, and, now and then, the 
 deep and strenuous voice of our cautious
 
 48 
 
 helmsman. Anon would ensue some glimpse 
 of the open champaign, descending with all 
 its wealth of golden sheaves to the very- 
 brink of the river — or, perhaps, the lively- 
 courts of a farm -yard stretching along the 
 margin of some tributary streamlet — or 
 some long expanse of level meadow, with 
 herds of snow-white heifers. I could not 
 gaze upon the rich and splendid scene with- 
 out reverting, with a strange mixture of 
 emotions, to the image of this my native 
 land ; its wild forests, shaggy with brush- 
 wood and unprofitable coppice, through 
 which of old the enormous wild deer stalk- 
 ed undisturbed, except by the adder of the 
 grass, or the obscene fly of the thicket ; its 
 little patches of corn and meadow, laborious- 
 ly rescued from the domain of the wild 
 beast, and rudely fortified against his con- 
 tinual incursions ; — the scattered hamlets of 
 this our Brigian valley,* and my own hum- 
 
 * The village of Broughton, on the road from Win- 
 chester to Salisbury, is supposed to mark the site of the 
 Roman Biigce. It stands not far from the river Test, 
 anciently called the Anton, or Entum.
 
 49 
 
 ble villa — then far humbler than it is now. 
 At one moment — How strange, said I to my- 
 self, that I — born of a Roman father, and al- 
 lied to some of the greatest names of Home, 
 should be only now, for the first time, sur- 
 veying the near effects of Roman magnifi- 
 cence and refinement ! It is time, indeed, 
 that my eyes should be taught to look on 
 other objects than those to which they have 
 hitherto been accustomed. At others, I 
 could not check altogether some rising re- 
 flections of a more melancholy nature. Alas ! 
 said I to myself, with a distrustful shaking 
 the head — these gorgeous prospects are in- 
 deed the results and the symbols of ancient 
 cultivation — and these beautiful mansions 
 are inhabited by refined and noble dwellers. 
 But who shall say what measure of true hap- 
 piness is enjoyed by those that I see here, 
 sauntering though they be, even as the 
 poets have feigned the careless demeanour 
 of their Elysium? Who shall say, but a few 
 months ago, how many of these I behold, 
 vol. i. c
 
 50 
 
 would gladly have escaped from the near 
 arm of imperial tyranny, and the mutual 
 suspicions of oppressed and injured men, 
 into some wild ravine of Britain, to lay 
 down their head every night in safety, and 
 awaken to contend with no cunning but 
 that of the fox — no ferocity but that of the 
 boar ? 
 
 When the heat of the sun was greatest, 
 we pushed our bark into a little creek, where 
 the boatmen rested themselves for a space 
 from their labours ; and we, along with the 
 master, made an end of the provisions we 
 had brought along with us. Having halt- 
 ed as long as we deemed expedient, we re- 
 sumed our seats on the vessel ; but the fer- 
 vour of the atmosphere being much dimi- 
 nished, our canopy was no longer upheld. 
 By degrees the shades of evening began to 
 spread themselves over the east ; but we did 
 not see the sun for a long time previous to 
 his setting, by reason of the hugeness of the 
 trees, and their impervious foliage. Trees, 
 and temples, and gardens, and meadows,
 
 51 
 
 and towns and villages, were, ere long, lost 
 in one uniform sobriety of twilight ; and it 
 was already quite dark, when the centurion, 
 pointing to the left bank, said, " Behold 
 these gigantic willows, which dip their long 
 boughs down into the water — these are the 
 Gardens of Ceesar — beyond, is the Portian 
 Gate, and the street of the Hural Lares. In 
 a few moments we shall see the lights of 
 the Sublician Bridge, and be in the city." 
 
 At these words I started up, and gazing 
 forward, could already penetrate through 
 the mists of evening into the busy glare of 
 a thousand streets and lanes, opening upon 
 the river. The old city wall, on the left side, 
 was visible; where, after having swept round 
 the region towards the Vatican and Janicu- 
 lar Hills, it brings the last of its turrets close 
 down to the Tiber, over against the great 
 dock-yards by the Field of Brutus. 
 
 Its shadow lay in frowning darkness, 
 far out upon the stream, and we glided for 
 some minutes in silence beneath the in- 
 fluence of the venerable rampart. Through 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 
 
 a forest of triremes, galleys, and all sorts of 
 craft, we then shot on to the bridge— be- 
 neath the centre arch of which, our steers- 
 man conducted us. Beyond, such was the 
 hum of people on the quays, and such the 
 starlike profusion of lights reflected in the 
 water, that we doubted not we had already 
 reached the chief seat of the bustle of Rome. 
 On, however, we still held our course, till 
 the huge bulk of the theatre of Marcellus 
 rose like a mountain on our right. It was 
 there that we ran our bark into the shore, 
 not far from the little bridge — the third as 
 you ascend the river — which conducts to 
 the Island and the Temple of iEsculapius. 
 While our friend was settling matters with 
 the master, and the boatmen were bringing 
 out our baggage, I stood for a little space 
 by myself, in silence, on the elevated quay. 
 Below me lay the bark, in which Boto and 
 the centurion were still engaged. Here am 
 I alone, I might almost say to myself, in 
 the greatest city of the world — not one of 
 whose inhabitants I have ever, so far as I
 
 53 
 
 know, conversed with. Up and down, where- 
 ever my eye fell, it rested on some bright 
 spot in the river, answering to some light 
 in bark, or edifice, kindled by hands, and 
 for purposes, to which I was equally a stran- 
 ger. Here a long tier of reflected radiance be- 
 spoke, it may be, the vicinity of some splen- 
 did portico — of palace, or temple, or bath, or 
 theatre ; there a broad and steady blaze of 
 burning red, indicated the abode of artizans, 
 resolved, as it seemed, on carrying their toil 
 into the bosom of the night. Between — 
 some small single speck of tinier lustre, 
 betrayed, perhaps, the lamp of the solitary 
 student, or the sober social hour of some 
 peaceful family, assembled around the hearth 
 of their own modest lares. Behold me then, 
 said I, in the capital of the globe. Alas ! were 
 I to be swallowed up this moment in the 
 waves of Tiber, not one of all these lights 
 would be dimmed by reason of my cala- 
 mity. 
 
 After my companions had joined me, the 
 dwelling of Licinius was the first thing I
 
 54 
 
 enquired after ; and being informed that it 
 was at no great distance, the friendly Sa- 
 binus insisted upon escorting me thither in 
 safety, before he repaired to his own abode. 
 We walked, therefore, along two or three 
 
 ■ proud streets, which brought us near to the 
 Pantheon of Agrippa, and there the house 
 of my kinsman was easily pointed out to 
 us by some of the passers-by. Its porch 
 was decorated with recent palm-branches, 
 which, as the centurion asserted, must have 
 been placed there by the joyful hands of 
 some fortunate client, whose cause had that 
 day been pleaded and won by the orator. 
 Here having taken leave of this kind per- 
 son, and having promised to visit him ere 
 many days should elapse, I, and my faith- 
 
 , ful Boto, at length arrested our steps. The 
 gate was thrown open as soon as we knock- 
 ed ; and, having left my attendant among 
 the crowd of slaves in the vestibule, I was 
 speedily conducted into the presence of my 
 kinsman, who received me in a polite, and, 
 at the same time, affectionate manner.
 
 55 
 
 I found him in a small upper chamber, 
 lighted by a single silver lamp, suspended 
 from the roof, enjoying, as it appeared, 
 repose and relaxation after the exertions 
 which he had been making during the an- 
 terior part of the day. He was reclining 
 at table when I entered ; and although sup- 
 per was long over, some fruits and other 
 trifling things still remained on the board. 
 At table with him there was no one pre- 
 sent, excepting a certain rhetorician or phi- 
 losopher, whom he introduced to me as the 
 superintendant of his son's education, and 
 the young Sextus himself, a modest and 
 ingenuous youth, who sat at the lower ex- 
 tremity of his father's couch. He was in- 
 deed a very mild and amiable young man, 
 and I had more pleasure, after a space, in 
 surveying his aspect, than the more mark- 
 ed lineaments of the other two. At first, 
 however, nothing rivetted my attention so 
 much as the fiery and energetic physiogno- 
 my of the pleader himself. The fore-part
 
 56 
 
 of his head was already quite bald, although 
 the darkness of the short eurls behind testi- 
 fied that age was not the cause of this de- 
 formity. His eyes were black and rapid, 
 and his eye-brows vibrated upwards and 
 downwards in a remarkable manner, not 
 only when he spoke, but even when he was 
 silent ; indicating, as it appeared by their 
 transitions, every new train of thought and 
 imagination within his mind. His style of 
 conversation was quick and fervid, and his 
 gestures vehement as he spake ; it being 
 apparent, that, from restlessness and vanity 
 of disposition, he was continually exerci- 
 sing a needless measure of mental activity 
 and anxiety. Not satisfied with his own 
 more than sufficient richness of ideas, no 
 thought could be expressed by any other 
 person which he did not immediately seize 
 for his own, and explain, even to him by 
 whom it had been first suggested, with 
 much fluency and earnestness of illustra- 
 tion. On the other hand, the hired philo-
 
 57 
 
 sopher, who wore a long beard reaching 
 down even unto his girdle, preserved in all 
 things an uncommon demureness of man- 
 ner, restraining every salient movement of 
 his own mind, and watching, with the gra- 
 vity of a Numa, the glancing eyes and sharp 
 features of his patron. A roll of yellow 
 parchment graced the left hand of this deal- 
 er in wisdom, while the other was employ- 
 ed in selecting from the table such articles 
 as were most agreeable to his palate. Li- 
 cinius, although meagre in person, and at 
 that time parched with long declamation, 
 seemed to live in such a state of intellectual 
 excitement, that he thought little either 
 of eating or drinking ; therefore, the vene- 
 rable stoic, resigning for the most part his 
 share of the conversation, amused himself, 
 in exchange, with the more trivial gratifi- 
 cations abandoned to him by the pleader. 
 Nor, if one might draw any conclusion from 
 the rosiness of his complexion, and the port- 
 liness of his whole figure, was this the first 
 c 2
 
 58 
 
 occasion on which he had exercised that 
 species of humility. Partly fatigued by my 
 travel, partly confounded by the novelties 
 I had seen and heard, and was now seeing 
 and hearing, I myself did not disdain from 
 time to time to taste of the fine old Chian 
 of Licinius ; a huge flagon of which that 
 stood on the board, already rose light in my 
 hand, by reason of the eager, though not 
 very frequent familiarities of the disciple of 
 Zeno. 
 
 When Licinius had inquired of me con- 
 cerning my native place, and those kinsmen 
 which he had in that distant region, and 
 when he had also spoken at some length 
 of the affairs which had brought me to the 
 city, his conversation was naturally direct- 
 ed to subjects which were more new, if not 
 more interesting, to me. " You would no 
 doubt observe," said he, " the palm branches 
 at my door. They were won to-day, by a 
 five hours harangue before the Centumviri, 
 wherein, if I did not satisfy myself, it ap- 
 pears that my friends, nay, even my custo-
 
 59 
 
 mary opponents, have discovered no ground 
 of complaint. It is only in contests such as 
 these that able men have now any oppor- 
 tunity to exercise themselves, and preserve 
 some remembrance of those ancient wor- 
 thies, and great public characters, that once 
 adorned the state. To these things, there- 
 fore, O Valerius, I entirely devote myself; 
 nor aim, like other citizens of my rank, at 
 passing the day in slothful diversion, and 
 ending it with far-fetched luxuries. At sup- 
 per my table is furnished only with mode- 
 rate fare, while, in other houses, I know not 
 how many roasted boars and pompous stur- 
 geons have been regaling with the rich per- 
 fume of their sauces and stuffing, the nos- 
 trils of guests who love the meat more than 
 the man who gives it. This worthy per- 
 son, whom I retain in my dwelling to in- 
 struct my only surviving son, knows how la- 
 borious is my course of life, and what an im- 
 patient crowd awaits my appearance every 
 morning that I rise. The young man him- 
 self will, I hope, ultimately tread in the
 
 60 
 
 same steps, and afford to a future genera- 
 tion the image of the former Licinius." 
 With these, and the like discourses, he oc- 
 cupied our ears till it was time to retire to 
 sleep ; and then he intimated to me, that he 
 had allotted to me an apartment in his house, 
 which he expected I would continually oc- 
 cupy during my residence in the city. But 
 being informed that I had a British slave 
 along with me, he insisted on having this 
 man sent for into the supper-chamber, that 
 he might see him, as he expressed it, before 
 the genuine unsophisticated barbarian had 
 been corrupted by keeping company with 
 the lying Greeks, and other cunning me- 
 nials of the metropolis. Whereupon, it was 
 commanded that Boto should come up, and 
 he was forthwith ushered in by a certain 
 leering varlet, with rings in his ears, whose 
 face resembled some comic mask in the ha- 
 bitual archness of its malicious and inquisi- 
 tive look. 
 
 Not few were the bows and scrapes with 
 which my Briton entered the penetralia of
 
 61 
 
 this great Roman's mansion ; neither was 
 the astonishment inconsiderable with which 
 the keen eyes of the orator rested upon the 
 coarse and tawny outlines of Boto's visage. 
 " So, friend," said Licinius,-— " and you have 
 ventured to come to Rome, without so much 
 as shaving your beard ?" But the merry and 
 good-natured tone in which these words 
 were uttered having somewhat reassured 
 the bashful rustic, he gave a sly side-look 
 towards the stoic, (who, it must be obser- 
 ved, had never once looked at him, but sat 
 back in his couch all the time, preserving 
 unmoved the sage severity of his demean- 
 our,) and replied to Licinius, " Pardon me, 
 O master, for coming thus into your pre- 
 sence ; but I knew not, till Dromo here told 
 me, that beards were worn in Borne only 
 by goats and the wisest of mankind." The 
 words of the barbarian amused the orator — 
 but, turning round to his own slave, " Ah ! 
 Dromo,* 5 said he, " do I already recognize 
 the effects of your teaching ?-— -beware the 
 whip — and corrupt not this honest Briton,
 
 62 
 
 at your peril." He then asked of Boto va- 
 rious questions concerning his recent voy- 
 age ; to all of which he made answers in a 
 sufficiently sagacious manner, after his own 
 fashion. Great contempt, however, was de- 
 picted on the face of the silent stoic during 
 this conversation ; which he, no doubt, 
 looked upon as a very unworthy conde- 
 scension on the part of Licinius ; till at last, 
 having, in a leisurely manner, poured out 
 and drank the last of the flagon, the in- 
 dignant Xerophrastes (for that was his 
 name) arose from his couch and departed. 
 As he withdrew, he unfortunately struck 
 his knee on the corner of the table, which 
 elicited from his stubborn features a sudden 
 contortion, expressive of anguish. This, 
 however, he immediately smoothed off ; 
 and, twisting his involuntary stoop into an 
 obeisance to Licinius, the sage walked away 
 in a sufficiently grave and decorous man- 
 ner. The young lad, whose name, if I have 
 not already mentioned it, was Sextus, did 
 not witness these circumstances without
 
 63 
 
 turning away his face to hide a smile ; but 
 I, fearing to diminish his respect for his 
 master, refrained from joining him in any 
 outward expression of mirth.
 
 64 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Licinius then shewed me the way to 
 my sleeping-room, to which I was glad to 
 retire, being in fact quite worn out by the 
 number of objects which had that day task- 
 ed my sight. My sleep was sound and 
 sweet ; nevertheless, when the morning be- 
 gan to dawn, I was awakened by the first 
 glimmerings of light, and found that my 
 thoughts became at once too busy to admit 
 of a return to slumber. I, therefore, arose, 
 and went to walk in an open gallery, with 
 which my chamber was connected. This 
 gallery commanded a prospect of a great 
 part of the city, which at that hour appear- 
 ed no less tranquil than stately, nothing 
 being in motion except a few small boats
 
 65 
 
 gliding here and there upon the river. Nei- 
 ther as yet had any smoke begun to dark- 
 en the atmosphere ; so that all things were 
 seen in a serene and steady light, the sha- 
 dows falling broadly westward over streets 
 and squares — but pillars, and porticoes, and 
 obelisks, and arches, rising up every where 
 with unsullied and undisturbed magnifi- 
 cence, into the bright air of the morning. 
 The numerous poplars and alders, and other 
 lofty trees of the gardens, also, seemed to 
 be rejoicing in the hour of dew and silence ; 
 so fresh and cheerful was the intermixture 
 of their green branches among the surround- 
 ing piles of white and yellow marble. Near 
 at hand, over the groves of the Philoclean 
 Mansion, I could see the kingly dome of 
 the Pantheon, all burnished with living gold 
 — and the proud colonnades of the Flami- 
 nian Circus, loaded with armies of brazen 
 statues. Between these and the river, the 
 theatres of Pompey and Marcellus, and I 
 know not how many beautiful temples were 
 visible, each surpassing the other in chaste 
 and solemn splendour. Across a more
 
 66 
 
 crowded region, to the westward, my eye 
 ascended to the Capitol, there to be lost 
 among the central magnificence of the Mis- 
 tress of the World ; while, still further re- 
 moved from me, (although less elevated in 
 natural situation), the gorgeous mansion of 
 the Emperor was seen, lifted up, like some 
 new and separate city, upon its enormous 
 fabric of arcades, high over all the remains 
 of that forest of elms and sycamores, by 
 which Nero had once dared to replace the 
 unhoused tenants of the Palatine. Behind 
 me, the Flavian Amphitheatre,* the newest 
 and the most majestic of all Roman edi- 
 fices, detained the eye for a space from all 
 that lay beyond it — the whole splendid 
 mass, namely, of the Esquiline — and those 
 innumerable aqueducts which lie stretched 
 out, arch after arch, and pillar after pillar, 
 quite over the peopled champaign to the 
 very ridge of the mountains. But why 
 should I vainly essay to give to you, by 
 cold words of description, any idea of the 
 
 * The Coliseum.
 
 67 
 
 peerless prospect that every where sur- 
 rounded me ! Lost amidst the pomp of 
 this unimagined human greatness, I was 
 glad to rest my sight, ever and anon, upon 
 the cool waters of old Tiber, in whose face 
 nothing of all this was truly depicted, ex- 
 cept the serene and cloudless beauty of that 
 Italian sky ; temple and tower, and every 
 monument of art, being mellowed down in- 
 to a softer and more tolerable grandeur. 
 
 As I stood upon a projecting balcony, 
 looking abroad upon the Imperial City, I 
 heard some person stepping softly along 
 the floor, and, being screened by some pil- 
 lars, looked back into the gallery without 
 subjecting myself to observation in return. 
 The noise, I found, was occasioned by one 
 of the slaves of Licinius, (the same I had 
 remarked over night), who had an air of 
 much vigilance about him on this occasion, 
 looking about from side to side with a very 
 anxious expression of countenance, as if 
 afraid of being detected in some impro- 
 priety. I heard him tap gently at the door
 
 68 
 
 of one of the apartments adjoining to my 
 own, and thought I could distinguish from 
 his whisper that it was Sextus on whom he 
 called. It was even so ; for very shortly after 
 that modest young man, opening the door, 
 courteously asked, " Well, Dromo, good 
 Dromo, what news ? — Have you seen or 
 heard any thing of her ? — Speak low, I be- 
 seech you, and remember that my precep- 
 tor sleeps in the next room." 
 
 '? Which preceptor ?" replied Dromo ; 
 " count me your best preceptor, and I will 
 teach you how to manage all the rest." 
 
 " Xerophrastes, I mean. Speak low, 
 Dromo," said the young man in an earnest 
 whisper ; " he is close at hand ; and if he be 
 thus early astir, as is not improbable, with 
 these eternal parchments, he may hear eve- 
 ry word you say — be quiet, I pray you." 
 
 " Poh, poh," returned the slave ; " never 
 mind the black-bearded Athenian, for I 
 have found out some curious facts about 
 him lately, which will serve to bridle his 
 tongue at any time. I will ride upon him,
 
 69 
 
 and rein him, in the most beautiful manner, 
 so that you will admire to see the motions 
 I can draw out of him." 
 
 " Oh Dromo, Dromo," said Sextus, sha- 
 king his head, " remember that a rhetori- 
 cian is far above the sphere of a rascally 
 slave like you ; and if I find you attempt- 
 ing to ride your betters any farther than is 
 absolutely necessary in this affair, I will 
 pluck you from your seat, Dromo, and lay 
 you sprawling on the sand at once." 
 
 " Well, well ; do not speak so loud," re- 
 plied Dromo ; " but I think it is natural 
 for all slaves to have an antipathy against 
 these grammarians, who often despoil them 
 of their just influence in a family ; and, in 
 fact, make mere slaves of them." 
 
 " A great hardship to be sure, Dromo ; 
 and what would you have ?" 
 
 " I would have a reasonable share of in- 
 fluence, Master Sextus, and neither more 
 nor less than my due." 
 
 " Your due, Master Dromo," replied the 
 youth," is to be seen in the thong of sleek
 
 TO 
 
 leather which hangs at the foot of the stair- 
 case ; and many is the time and oft, that I 
 have saved yon from it ; for which you may 
 perhaps have to thank the beauty of her 
 who has rendered you necessary to me, as 
 much as my own good nature. But no 
 more idle words at present — what have you 
 got to tell me ?*■ 
 
 f I have just been down," answered he, 
 to the herb-market, by the river-side yon- 
 der — for that early sort of drudgery is sure 
 to be laid on my back ; but I do not com- 
 plain of my hardships for this once. Well 
 — I had made my bargain, and was coming 
 away, when I saw one of old Capito's men, 
 who had just come in from the villa, dri- 
 ving an ass laden with choice articles from 
 the country, which he told me were meant 
 as presents for different persons. Where- 
 upon it forthwith occurred to me, that I 
 might perhaps be able to suck something 
 out of him concerning the young lady. So 
 I asked the man if there was any present 
 for his master's brother, Lucius, the senator.
 
 71 
 
 To which he replied, that he had brought 
 nothing for Lucius but a letter ; adding, that 
 he believed its purport was to invite the 
 two young ladies, to come out and enjoy 
 the beauty of the season. e And when,' said 
 I, in a careless manner, ' do you suppose 
 they may be coming?' — ' Oh this very 
 day, I suppose, 5 quoth he ; 6 for I heard or- 
 ders given about their apartments.' Now 
 my dear Master Sextus, I no sooner got 
 this information from him, than I ran hither 
 as swiftly as my legs would carry me. You 
 can easily go out, as if by chance, to pay 
 your respects to the old gentleman. You 
 will there have an opportunity of seeing 
 her for a long while together ; and perhaps 
 be able to put in a word for yourself ; for 
 they say there's nothing helps on a court- 
 ship so much as a shady walk among the 
 fields." 
 
 " Ah, Sempronia !" cried Sextus, " then 
 I shall approach you, and speak to you at 
 last. — What will she think when she sees 
 me there? — and how will she speak to me 5 
 
 r j~
 
 72 
 
 While he was uttering these words, Dro- 
 mo suddenly started, and came peeping, on 
 tiptoe, towards the place where I stood. 
 Whereupon I stepped from behind my pil- 
 lar, and said to the astonished youth, " Fear 
 not, Sextus, that I shall intermeddle with 
 your secrets, or make any use of what I 
 have accidentally overheard. But I wish 
 you would satisfy my curiosity, and inform 
 me who is this lady, and what may be the 
 meaning of all this concealment ?" 
 
 Here Dromo perceiving that his young 
 master was a good deal confused, came for- 
 ward and said, " From observing your looks 
 last night, when I was making a handle of 
 yon barbarian to torture our friend of the 
 porch, I think you are a good-natured per- 
 son, who would not willingly bring any of 
 us into trouble. The truth is, that Licinius 
 wishes my young master here to marry a 
 certain lady, who has already had wet eyes 
 over the ashes of a first husband ; but who 
 is of noble birth, and very rich. Now Sex- 
 tus, being only eighteen, does not like this
 
 73 
 
 great lady so well as she likes him — and has, 
 in fact, lost his heart elsewhere." 
 
 " Dromo," answered I, taking young 
 Sextus by the hand as I spoke, " this is a 
 pretty common sort of story ; but I shall 
 take no side till I have seen both of the la- 
 dies ; and the sooner your ingenuity can 
 bring that about, the more shall I be be- 
 holden to you." 
 
 " We shall try," replied the slave, ob- 
 serving that I had overcome the reluctance 
 of the lover ; " but in the meantime I ob- 
 serve that the clients are beginning to as- 
 semble in the porch, to await the forthco- 
 ming of Licinius. Go, therefore, and get 
 some breakfast for yourselves, for, by and 
 and bye, you will both of you be expected 
 to accompany the orator to the Forum, to 
 hear him plead ; which, between ourselves, 
 will be, I guess, a good six hours job for you, 
 unless you manage matters dextrously." 
 
 This last hint produced a visible effect 
 on the countenance of Sextus ; but, never- 
 theless, we went down together immedi- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 74 
 
 ately to an apartment, where some bread 
 and grapes were prepared for us ; and there, 
 with much j avenile ingenuousness, he open- 
 ed his heart to me, concerning those things 
 with which I had fortuitously been made 
 acquainted. But what surprised me most 
 of all, was to hear, that although he had 
 been enamoured of Sempronia for several 
 months, and was well acquainted with se- 
 veral of her relations, he had never yet seen 
 her, except at certain places of public resort, 
 nor enjoyed any opportunity of making 
 known his passion. While I was express- 
 ing my astonishment at this circumstance, 
 we were interrupted by Xerophrastes, who 
 came to inform us, that Licinius, having 
 already descended into the hall, was about 
 to issue forth, and desirous of our company, 
 if no other occupation detained us. We 
 accordingly followed the philosopher, and 
 found his patron where he had indicated, 
 pacing to and fro, in the highest state of 
 excitation, like a generous steed about to 
 scour the field of battle. The waxen effi-
 
 75 
 
 gies of his ancestors stood at one end of the 
 hall, some of them defaced with great age ; 
 and upon these he frequently fixed his ar- 
 dent eyes. Seeing me enter, he immediate- 
 ly cried out, " Come hither, my friend and 
 kinsman, and I shall presently conduct you 
 to a scene worthy, above all others, of the 
 curiosity of a stranger." 
 
 With this, arranging his gown, and put- 
 ting himself into a dignified attitude, he or- 
 dered the porter, who stood chained by the 
 door, to throw wide its massy valves ; which 
 being done, the litigants and consulters, 
 who were without, received the orator with 
 acclamations, and surrounded him on all 
 sides. Some of the poorer ones, I observed 
 kissing the hem of his garment, and dodg- 
 ing wistfully at his elbows, without ever 
 attracting a word or look from him ; while 
 those of a higher class came forward more 
 familiarly, seeking to impress particular cir- 
 cumstances upon his memory, and paying 
 him compliments on the appearance he had 
 made the day before in the Centumviral
 
 Court. Encircled by this motley groupe, 
 he walked along towards the great Forum, 
 which is also called the Roman — followed 
 at a little distance by Sextus, the preceptor, 
 myself, and some freedmen of his house- 
 hold. In moving on, we passed, by acci- 
 dent, the door of another great pleader, by 
 name Bruttianus, who stood there attend- 
 ed in a similar manner. When he perceived 
 Licinius, this man took from his door-post 
 a green palm-branch, and waved it towards 
 us in a vaunting manner ; but our friend, sa- 
 luting him courteously, cried out, with his 
 sharp and cutting voice, " We shall try it 
 again." Whereon, Xerophrastes, immedi- 
 ately stepping up to his patron, began thus, 
 " How this vain-glorious person exposes 
 himself ! — he is certainly a weak man ; 
 and his tones, by Hermes, are more detest- 
 able than those of an African fowl.*' — At 
 which words, Sextus tipped me the wink ; 
 but I did not observe that Licinius was at 
 all displeased with them. Yet, soon after, 
 Bruttianus having overtaken us, the pro-
 
 77 
 
 cessions were joined, and the two great 
 pleaders walked the rest of the way toge- 
 gether in a loving manner, exchanging com- 
 plimentary speeches ; to which Xerophras- 
 tes listened with a very edifying gravity of 
 visage. 
 
 At length we entered that venerable space, 
 every yard of whose surface is consecrated 
 to the peculiar memory of some great inci- 
 dent in the history of Rome. Young Sex* 
 tus allowed me to contemplate for some 
 time, with silent wonder, the memorable ob- 
 jects which conspired to the decoration of 
 this remarkable place; but after the first 
 gaze of astonishment was satisfied, proceed- 
 ed to point out, in order, the names and uses 
 of the principal structures which rose on 
 every side over its porticos — above all, of its 
 sublime temples — into whose cool and shady 
 recesses the eye could here and there pene- 
 trate through the open valves. Nor did the 
 ancient rostrum from which Tully had de- 
 claimed, escape our observation — nor within
 
 78 
 
 its guarding rail of silver, the rising shoots 
 of the old mysterious fig-tree of Romulus 
 — nor the rich tesselated pavement which 
 covered the spot that had once yawned an 
 abyss before the steady eye of Curtius — nor 
 the resplendent Milliary pillar which mark- 
 ed the centre of the place. In a word, had 
 the gathering crowds permitted, I could 
 have willingly spent I know not how many 
 suns in listening to the explanation of such 
 magnificent objects ; but these, and the ele- 
 vated voice of Licinius, who was just begin- 
 ning his harangue, soon compelled me to 
 attend to things of another description. 
 
 Within one of the proud ranges of ar- 
 cade, on the side nearest to the Capitoline 
 cliff and stairs, a certain majestic Patrician 
 had already taken his seat on an elevated 
 tribunal — his assessors being arranged on a 
 lower bench by his side, and the orators and 
 clients congregated beneath him. The first 
 who addressed him was, as I have said, Li- 
 cinius ; and, truly, although his speech was
 
 79 
 
 not of very great length, it was sufficient 
 to impress me with an admiration of his 
 genius, such as I had never before been con- 
 strained to feel for any display of talent ex- 
 hibited in my presence. I know not, in- 
 deed, if, in the whole wide range of human 
 accomplishments, there be any one, the first 
 contemplation of which inspires so much 
 wonder into the breasts of those unaccus- 
 tomed to its exercise, as this of oratory. It 
 is the first and great natural weapon by 
 which intellect asserts its superiority over 
 corporeal strength ; and therefore, to ac- 
 knowledge its power in him that witnesses 
 its energies, is, in effect, a vindication of the 
 dignity of his own nobler part. The most 
 refined and expert in the ways of men, can 
 never entirely defend themselves against 
 this celestial weapon, any more than they can 
 open their eyes, and yet refuse to bear wit- 
 ness that there is light in heaven ; or walk 
 abroad at noon-day, and not feel the fervour 
 of the sun. But if they cannot fail to ac- 
 knowledge this godlike power, those, that
 
 80 
 
 like myself, come strangers to the scene of 
 oratorial triumph, cannot fail to bow down 
 and submit themselves, in awful homage, 
 beneath its sway. When I heard the clear 
 and harmonious periods of my kinsman fol- 
 lowing each other in their undoubting sweep 
 of energy — when I observed with what ap- 
 parent skill he laid his foundations in a 
 few simple facts and propositions ; and then 
 with what admirable art he upreared from 
 these, a superstructure of conclusions, equal- 
 ly easy as unexpected — equally beautiful as 
 ingenious ; when, above all, he had con- 
 ducted us to the end of his argument, and 
 closed the whole magnificent strain with one 
 burst of passionate eloquence^ in which he 
 seemed to leave even himself behind him, I 
 could not but feel within myself as if I had 
 been till now a stranger, not only to the 
 most splendid, but to the most awful of en- 
 chantments — as if I had now, for the first 
 time, contemplated the practised strength 
 of reason, and the embodied might of the 
 soul. Such were my raptures on hearing
 
 81 
 
 the first oration of Licinius ; and truly, the 
 applauses painted in the faces of those that 
 surrounded me, were a sufficient pledge to 
 me that they did not spring from my own 
 inexperience. Yet I have lived to discover 
 that the talent which so greatly excited my 
 wonder is often possessed from nature, or 
 acquired through practice, (though not, it 
 is true, to any thing like the same splendid 
 extent orperfection, yet in a measure which, 
 at that time, would have afforded me scarce- 
 ly inferior delight,) by men whose under- 
 standings are of no extraordinary rank. It 
 was not till after many visits to the Roman 
 Forum, that I found myself enabled to dis- 
 criminate between the real merits of a speak- 
 er of genius like my kinsman, and that trick 
 of wordiness, by which some of the most 
 common-place and prosaic of his rivals at 
 first affected me, with almost as much admi- 
 ration as I could bestow on himself. 
 
 The keen and lively gestures of the fervid 
 Licinius, whose soul seemed to speak out 
 d 2
 
 82 
 
 of every finger he moved, and who appear- 
 ed to be altogether immersed in the cause 
 he pleaded, were succeeded by the solemn 
 and somewhat pompous stateliness of Brut- 
 tianus, who made a brief pause between 
 every two sentences, as if he were apprehen- 
 sive that the mind of the judge could not 
 keep pace with the stream of his illustra- 
 tions, and looked round ever and anon up- 
 on the spectators with a placid and assured 
 smile, rather, as it seemed to me, to signify 
 his approbation of their taste in applauding 
 him, than his own pleasure in their applauses. 
 Nevertheless, he also was a splendid speak- 
 er, and his affectation displeased the more, 
 because it was evidently unworthy of his 
 understanding. While he was speaking, I 
 observed that the Stoic preceptor was fre- 
 quently shifting his place among the crowd, 
 and muttering every where expressions of 
 high contempt. But this did not disgust 
 me so much as the gross adulation of that 
 fixed attitude of ecstacy in which he listen-
 
 83 
 
 ed to the discourse of his own patron, and 
 the pretended involuntary exclamations of 
 his delight. " Oh, admirable cadence !" he 
 would say, " I feel as if I were draining a 
 honey-comb. Oh, harmonious man, where 
 have I, or any other person here, sucked in 
 such sweetness !" These absurd phrases, 
 however, were caught up forthwith, and re- 
 peated by the numerous young men who 
 hung upon the skirts of the orator, and seem- 
 ed, indeed, to be drinking in nectar from the 
 speech, if one might judge from their coun- 
 tenances. From their taking notes in their 
 tablets from time to time, and from the 
 knowing looks they assumed at the com- 
 mencement of every new chain of argu- 
 ment, I guessed that these might be embryo 
 jurisconsults, preparing themselves by their 
 attendance for future exertions of the same 
 species ; and, indeed, when I listened to 
 their conversation at the close of every 
 speech, I thought I could perceive in their 
 tones and accents studied mimicry of the
 
 84 
 
 natural peculiarities of Licinius, Bruttia- 
 nus, and the other orators. Altogether, the 
 scene was to me as full of amusement as of 
 novelty, and I could willingly have remain- 
 ed to the end of the discussion. But look- 
 ing round, my eyes chanced to fall upon 
 young Sextus, and I could not but see that 
 his mind was occupied in matters quite 
 remote from the business of the Forum, 
 and the merits of the pleaders. He stood 
 with his arms folded in his gown, and his 
 eyes fixed upon the ground, only lifting 
 them up from time to time with an impa- 
 tient air towards a side entrance of the Fo- 
 rum, or to observe by the shadows on the 
 opposite porticos what progress the sun was 
 making towards the south. 
 
 Perceiving, at length, that Xerophrastes 
 had his back turned towards us, and that 
 his father was entirely engaged with his 
 tablets during the speech of another orator, 
 he plucked me by the sleeve. I understood 
 his meaning from his looks, and followed
 
 85 
 
 him quickly through the crowd ; nor did 
 we look back till we had left the noise of 
 the Forensic assembly entirely behind us. 
 " I am depriving you," he then said, " of 
 no great gratification, for that old creature 
 is, indeed, possessed of much natural shrewd- 
 ness, but the asperity of his temper is such, 
 that I am sure you could not have listened 
 to him for many minutes without great dis- 
 gust. In fact, he is excessively bitter, from 
 observing that his reputation is rather eclip- 
 sed by some other younger people, and looks 
 for all the world like some old worn-out and 
 discarded cat, grinning from the top of the 
 wall at the amorous dalliance in which his 
 faithless mistress is indulging some sleeker 
 rival of the whisker. You are too good-na- 
 tured to be able to find any delight in the 
 angry sneerings of such an envious person ; 
 and his age would prevent you, at the same 
 time, from willingly giving way to any con- 
 temptuous emotions. Let us depart from 
 the city, and I will be your guide to the
 
 86 
 
 villa of Capito. But if any questions be 
 asked on our return, you can say I was 
 anxious to shew you something of the other 
 regions of the city."
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Although anxiety to shew me the city 
 was to be the pretence for the sudden depar- 
 ture of Sextus from the Forum, nothing- 
 could be less in his intentions than to waste 
 any farther portion of the morning in what 
 he naturally enough imagined might be just 
 as well deferred to some other day, during 
 which he should have no prospect of meet- 
 ing with the fair Sempronia. He hurried 
 me forward, on the contrary, in a manner 
 which all my sympathy with his emotions 
 could hardly prevail upon me to pardon, 
 through twenty noble streets, and past in- 
 numerable glorious edifices, before each of 
 which I would gladly have paused — such 
 was the yet unsated ardour of my curiosity.
 
 88 
 
 Nevertheless, seeing him entirely wrapped 
 up in his own anxious thoughts, I did not 
 oppose myself to his inclinations. Ere long, 
 having passed the Hill of Gardens, I found 
 that we had gained the eastern limit of the 
 city. His steps increased in rapidity when 
 he perceived that we were treading the free 
 surface of the Salarian Way ; insomuch, that 
 1 could scarcely cast even a passing glance 
 on the lofty pillars and other funereal monu- 
 ments, which confer such an air of solemn 
 magnificence on that wide avenue of the 
 capital. 
 
 A sharp walk of about an hour and a half 
 brought us within sight of the Suburban of 
 Capito. A lofty wall protected the fields 
 of this retirement from the intrusive eyes 
 of passengers on the public road, over whose 
 summit nothing could be discovered but 
 the tall green boughs of planes and syca- 
 mores waving to and fro in the gentle agi- 
 tation of the western breeze. We entered 
 by a small side-door, and immqdiately found 
 ourselves, as if by some magical delusion, 
 
 4
 
 89 
 
 transported from the glare of a Roman high- 
 way, and the hum of men, into the depth 
 and silence of some primeval forest. "No 
 nicely trimmed path conducted our feet 
 through the mazes of this venerable place. 
 Every thing had at least the appearance of 
 being left as nature had formed it. The tall 
 fern rustled beneath us as we moved ; the 
 untaught ivy was seen spreading its careless 
 tresses from tree to tree overhead ; the fawn 
 bounded from the thicket, and the scared 
 owl screamed on the pine top. By degrees, 
 however, the gloom lessened around us as 
 we approached the mansion itself, till at 
 length, over an open space of lawn, we per- 
 ceived the simple but elegant porch of en- 
 trance, and the line of colonnade that ex- 
 tended all along that front of the building. 
 We passed under the porch, and across a 
 paved court, in which a fountain was play- 
 ing, into the great hall, the windows of 
 which commanded all the other side of the 
 place — a most noble prospect of elaborate
 
 90 
 
 gardens gradually rising into shady hills, and 
 lost in a distance of impenetrable wood. 
 Here a freedman attended us, who inform- 
 ed us that Capito had retired from the house 
 into a sequestered part of the grounds with 
 some friends from the city ; but that if we 
 chose we could easily join him there. We 
 assented, and, following his guidance, ere 
 long traversed no narrow space of luxuriant 
 cultivation. From one perfumed terrace 
 we descended to another ; till, having at last 
 reached a certain green and mossy walk, 
 darkened all its length by a natural arching 
 of vines and mulberries, the freedman point- 
 ed to a statue at the further end of it, and 
 told us it stood over against the entrance 
 of his master's summer-house. When we 
 reached the statue, however, we could not 
 at first perceive any traces of a summer- 
 house. The shaded avenue terminated in 
 face of a precipitous rock, from which there 
 fell a small stream that was received beneath 
 in a massive basin, where its waters foamed
 
 91 
 
 into spray without transgressing the mar- 
 gin. A thousand delicious plants and far- 
 sought flowers clustered around the base of 
 the rock and the brink of the fountain, and 
 the humming of innumerable bees mingled 
 with the whispers of the stream. We stood 
 for a moment uncertain whether we should 
 move on or retire, when we heard some one 
 calling to us from the centre of the rock ; 
 and presently, passing to the other side of 
 the basin, descried, between the rock and the 
 falling water, a low entrance into what seem- 
 ed to be a natural cave or grotto. We stoop- 
 ed, and passing its threshold found ourselves 
 within one of the most luxurious retirements 
 that was ever haunted by the foot of Dryad. 
 A sparry roof hung like a canopy of gems 
 and crystals over a groupe of sculptured 
 Nymphs and Fawns, which were placed 
 on a rustic pedestal within a circular bath, 
 shaped out of the living stone. Around the 
 edge of the waveless waters that slumbered 
 in this green recess, were spread carpets rich 
 with the dyes of Tyrian art, whereon Ca-
 
 92 
 
 pito was reposing with his friends. He re- 
 ceived Sextus with the warmest kindness, 
 and me with distinguished politeness, intro- 
 ducing us both to his companions, who were 
 three in number — all of them, like himself, 
 advanced in years, and two of them wear- 
 ing long beards, though their demeanour 
 was destitute of any thing like the affect- 
 ed stateliness of our friend Xerophrastes. 
 These two, as our host informed us, were 
 Greeks and Rhetoricians — the third, a Pa- 
 trician of the house of Pontii, devoted, like 
 himself, to the pursuits of philosophy and 
 the pleasures of a literary retirement. They 
 were engaged, when we joined them, in a 
 conversation which had sprung from the pe- 
 rusal of some new metaphysical writer, on 
 which they were delivering very different 
 opinions. One of the Greeks, the more se- 
 rene looking of the pair, was defending its 
 doctrines, which I guessed to be those of 
 the Garden, with earnestness of manner, al- 
 though in a low and measured cadence of 
 voice — the other espoused the opposite side,
 
 93 
 
 of the Porch, with much quickness of utter- 
 ance and severe animation of look, while 
 the two lordly Romans seemed to be con- 
 tenting themselves, for the most part, with 
 listening, although it was not difficult to 
 perceive, from the expressions of their coun- 
 tenances, that the one sided in opinion with 
 the Stoic, and the other, (which was Capito 
 himself,) with the Epicurean disputant. 
 
 They all arose presently, and proceeded 
 to walk together, without interrupting the 
 conversation, along the same shaded avenue 
 which Sextus and myself had already tra- 
 versed. He and I moved along with them, 
 but walked a little in their rear — my com- 
 panion being still too much abstracted to 
 bestow his attention on what they were say- 
 ing; while I myself, being but little an adept 
 in such mysteries, amused myself rather 
 with the exterior and manners of the men 
 themselves, than with the merits of the opi- 
 nions they were severally defending. The 
 two Greeks were attired in the graceful cos-
 
 94 
 
 tume of their own country, which was worn, 
 however, far more gracefully by the Epi- 
 curean than his brother, — the materials of 
 his robe being infinitely more delicate, and 
 its folds arranged with studied elegance, 
 whereas the coarse garment of the Stoic had 
 apparently engaged less attention. Never- 
 theless, there was a much more marked dif- 
 ference between the attire of Capito and 
 that of Pontius Mamurra ; for the former 
 was arrayed in a tunic of the whitest cloth, 
 beneath which appeared fine linen rollers, 
 swathing his thighs and legs, to protect 
 them, as I supposed, from the heat and the 
 insects, and a pair of slippers, of dark vio- 
 let-coloured cloth, embroidered with silver 
 flowers ; while the other held his arms fold- 
 ed in the drapery of an old but genuine 
 toga, which left his yet strong and sinewy 
 nether- limbs exposed to the weather, all ex- 
 cept what was covered by his tall black san- 
 dals and their senatorian crescents. 
 
 As we passed on, our host from time to
 
 95 
 
 time directed the attention of his visitors, 
 more particularly of the two Greeks, to the 
 statues of bronze and marble, which were 
 placed at convenient intervals along the ter- 
 races of his gardens. The symmetry of these 
 figures and the graceful simplicity of their 
 attitudes inspired me with I know not what 
 of calm and soothing pleasure such as I had 
 never before tasted, so that I thought I 
 could have lingered forever amidst these 
 haunts of philosophic luxury. The images 
 were, for the most part, portraits of illus- 
 trious men — Greeks, Romans — sages and 
 heroes ; — but beautiful female forms were 
 not wanting, nor majestic representations 
 of gods and demi-gods, and all the astherial 
 imaginations of the Grecian poets. Seeing 
 the name of Jupiter inscribed upon one of 
 the pedestals, I paused for a moment to 
 contemplate the glorious personification of 
 might and wisdom, depositing, at the same 
 time, a garland of roses at the feet of the 
 statue — upon which I could observe that
 
 96 
 
 my behaviour furnished much cause of mirth 
 to the Epicurean Demochares ; while, on 
 the contrary, Euphranor, the disciple of the 
 Porch, approved of what I did, and rebuked 
 his companion for saying any thing that 
 might even by possibility disturb the natu- 
 ral piety of an innocent youth. But the 
 Roman Stoic stood by with a smile of stately 
 scorn ; and utter indifference was painted 
 on the countenance of Capito. At another 
 time, Sextus having staid behind to examine 
 the beauties of a certain statue of Diana, 
 which represented the goddess stretched out 
 in careless slumber on the turf, with a slen- 
 der greyhound at her feet, the Epicurean be- 
 gan to rally me on having a taste inferior to 
 that of my friend, whose devotion, he said, 
 could not be blamed, being paid to an ex- 
 quisite imitation of what the great Nature 
 of things had decreed should ever be the 
 most agreeable of all objects in the eyes of 
 a person of his age. — " Whereas you," con- 
 tinued he, "appear to be more occupied with
 
 97 
 
 deep-hung eye-brows, ambrosial beards and 
 fantastic thunderbolts, and the other exu- 
 berances of Homeric imagination." 
 
 To this reproach I made no reply, but 
 Capito immediately began to recite some 
 noble verses of a Hymn of Calimachus, in 
 which both the Greeks joined him ; nor could 
 any thing be more delightful than the deep 
 rolling grandeur of those harmonious num- 
 bers. A sudden exclamation of Sextus, how- 
 ever, ere long, interrupted their recitation, 
 and Capito, looking up a long straight path- 
 way, leading from the villa, said, " Come, 
 Valerius, we shall soon see whether you or 
 Sextus is the more gallant to living beau- 
 ties, for here come my two nieces, Athana- 
 sia and Sempronia; and, I assure you, I don't 
 know of which of them lam the more proud. 
 But Sempronia has indeed moreof the Diana 
 about her, so it is probable she may find a 
 ready slave in our friend Sextus." 
 
 We advanced to meet the young ladies, 
 who were walking slowly down the avenue, 
 and their uncle, having tenderly saluted 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 98 
 
 them, soon presented us to their notice. Sex- 
 tus blushed deeply when he found himself 
 introduced toSempronia, while, in her smile, 
 although she looked at him, as if to say she 
 had never seen him before, I thought I could 
 detect a certain half- suppressed expression 
 of half-disdainful archness — thecolourin her 
 cheeks at the same time being not entirely 
 unmoved. She was, indeed, a very lovely 
 girl, and in looking on her light dancing 
 play of beautiful features, I could easily 
 sympathize with the young raptures of my 
 friend. Her dress was such as to set off her 
 charms to the utmost advantage, for the 
 bright green of herByssine robe, although it 
 would have been a severe trial to any ordi- 
 nary complexion, served only to heighten 
 the delicious brilliancy of hers. A veil, of 
 the same substance and colour, was richly 
 embroidered all over with flowers of silver 
 tissue, and fell in flowing drapery well nigh 
 down to her knees. Her hair was almost 
 entirely concealed by this part of her dress, 
 but a single braid of the brightest nut-brown
 
 99 
 
 was visible low down on her polished fore- 
 head. Her eyes were black as jet, and full, 
 as I have already hinted, of a nymph-like 
 or Arcadian vivacity — altogether, indeed, 
 she was such a creature as the Tempe of the 
 poets need not have been ashamed to shelter 
 beneath the most luxurious of its bowers. 
 
 The other young lady — it is Athanasia of 
 whom I speak — she was not a dazzling 
 beauty like Sempronia, but beautiful in such 
 a manner as I shall never be able to describe. 
 Taller than her cousin, and darker haired 
 than she, but with eyes rather light than 
 otherwise, of a clear, soft, somewhat melan- 
 choly grey — and with a complexion for the 
 most part paler than is usual in Italy, and 
 with a demeanour hovering between cheer- 
 fulness and innocent gravity, and attired 
 with a vestal simplicity in the old Roman 
 tunic, and cloak of white cloth — it is possi- 
 ble that most men might have regarded her 
 less than the other; but for my part, I found 
 her aspect the more engaging the longer I 
 surveyed it. A single broad star of diamonds,
 
 100 
 
 planted high up among her black hair, was 
 the only ornament of jewelry she wore, and 
 it shone there in solitary brightness, like the 
 planet of evening. Alas ! I smile at my- 
 self that I should take notice of such trifles, 
 in describing the first time I ever gazed on 
 Athanasia. 
 
 At the request of the younger lady, we 
 all returned to the grotto, in the neighbour- 
 hood of which, as I have already mention- 
 ed, our tasteful host had placed the rarest 
 of his exotic plants, some of which Sempro- 
 nia was now desirous of inspecting. As we 
 paced again slowly over those smooth sha- 
 ven alleys of turf, and between those rows 
 of yews and box, clipped into regular shapes, 
 which abounded in this more artificial re- 
 gion of the place, the conversation, which 
 the appearance of the two beauties had dis- 
 turbed, was resumed ; although, as out of 
 regard to their presence, the voices of the 
 disputants pursued a lower and milder tone 
 than before, — a natural mark of respect (by 
 the way) to the gentleness of female spirits,
 
 101 
 
 which we must all have remarked on many 
 occasions. I must confess, however, that 
 mild as was the manner of the discourse, I 
 could not help being somewhat astonished, 
 and even displeased, with finding that a vir- 
 tuous and polite Roman could permit such 
 topics to be discussed in the hearing of fe- 
 males ; above all, that he did not interpose 
 to prevent Demochares from throwing out 
 so many sarcastic reflections concerning the 
 deities whose statues were placed in the 
 garden. A beautiful Mercury, in particu- 
 lar, which we all paused to admire, elicited 
 many sarcastical observations, that I could 
 easily see were far from being agreeable to 
 the fair cousins. But greatest of all was 
 my wonder at the behaviour of Capito him- 
 self, who, after we had again entered that 
 delightful grotto, turned himself to me as if 
 peculiarly, and began a deliberate and inge- 
 nious piece of declamation concerning the 
 tenets of his favourite philosophy, — such as 
 the fortuitous concourse of atoms, the tran- 
 sitory and fluctuating nature of all things,
 
 102 
 
 and the necessity of snatching present en- 
 joyments, as nothing permanent can be dis- 
 covered whereon to repose the mind. With 
 great elegance, indeed, of language and il- 
 lustration, did he enlarge on these golden 
 theories of the Sages of the Garden ; nor did 
 he fail to intersperse his discourse with 
 many exquisite verses from Lucretius and 
 other poetical followers of his sect. Such, 
 however, was the earnestness of his decla- 
 mation, that I could not help believing him 
 to be quite sincere to what he said, and ask- 
 ed him, not without anxiety, whether he 
 had all his life been an Epicurean, or whe- 
 ther it was only of late that he had espoused 
 that discipline. Nor have I at this distance 
 of time any difficulty in recalling the tenor 
 of his answer. " Young man," said he, 
 " the question you have now put to me is 
 not the first instance I have had of your sa- 
 gacity ; which, indeed, considering at once, 
 your age and provincial education, is such 
 as may truly command the respect of all of 
 us. To be born wise, Fate or Heaven has.
 
 103 
 
 denied to the children of human race. It is 
 their privilege to win wisdom for them- 
 selves ; the fault is their own, if they do not 
 die wise. 
 
 " When a young man first enters upon 
 the theatre of the world, bright hopes are 
 around him, and he moves onward in the 
 buoyancy of conscious power. The pride 
 of young existence is the main and anima- 
 ting centre of all his thoughts, or rather it 
 is the essence and extract of all his innu- 
 merable sensations. Rejoicing in the feel- 
 ing of the real might that is, it is his de- 
 light to think — to dream — of might exist- 
 ing and exerted as for ever. New to the ma- 
 terial, but still more new to the moral world, 
 he believes in the stability of all things, 
 whose transitory nature has not been exhi- 
 bited before him. New to the tricks of man- 
 kind, he believes that to be said truly, 
 which, why it should be said falsely, he is 
 unable to conjecture. For him, supersti- 
 tion has equal potency to darken the past, 
 and illuminate the future.
 
 104 
 
 " At that early period, when ignorance is 
 of itself sufficient to produce a certain sort 
 of happiness, the ambition of the human 
 mind is too high to admit the reception of 
 such doctrines as I, an old man, and an ex- 
 perienced traveller in the mazes of the world, 
 have no shame in avowing. But time moves 
 on, young man, and every hour some ten- 
 der plant of hope or of promise is crushed 
 into the dust beneath his unmerciful tread. 
 The spirit clings long and closely to its fa- 
 vourite delusions. The promise that is de- 
 stroyed to-day springs into life to-morrow 
 in some new shape ; and Hope, like some 
 warring deity of your poets, bleeds and 
 sickens only to revive again. Nevertheless, 
 disappointment at length gathers to itself 
 the vigour of an enduring form. The ho- 
 rizon becomes colder and darker around our 
 sphere of vision — the soul waxes faint and 
 more faint within our bosoms. It is then 
 that man at last begins to recognize the true 
 state, not of his own nature alone, but of 
 all things that surround him — that having
 
 105 
 
 tasted much of evil, he is taught to feel the 
 value of good — and weaning himself from 
 vain-glorious dreams, learns the great lesson 
 of practical wisdom, to enjoy the moments 
 as they pass — to snatch some solid pleasure 
 at least amidst a world of vision and imagi- 
 nation ; so, in a word, as the poet has ex- 
 pressed it, he may not have reason to com- 
 plain in the hour of death that he has never 
 lived. 
 
 " In me," he continued, " you behold one 
 that has gone through the experience neces- 
 sary to produce an entire acquiescence in 
 these doctrines. I am one of those, O Va- 
 lerius ! who have resolved to concentrate, 
 after this fashion, the whole of my dreams 
 upon the hour that is. There are not want- 
 ing, indeed, here and elsewhere, persons who 
 profess the same theories, only in the view 
 of finding excuse and shelter for the prac- 
 tice of vice. But till it be proved that the 
 practice of vice is the best means of enjoy- 
 ment, in vain shall it be asserted by our op- 
 ponents, that our doctrine is essentially ad- 
 e 2
 
 106 
 
 verse to virtue. The mistakes or the mis- 
 deeds of individuals must be estimated for 
 nothing ; for where is the doctrine that may 
 not be shewn to have been defended by im- 
 pure livers ? The founder of our sect is ac- 
 knowledged, by the most virulent enemies 
 of his theories, to have been the most blame- 
 less of men, and they, I must take leave to 
 believe, can never be sincere friends of virtue 
 who doubt that he who is a true worshipper 
 of pleasure, may also be the worshipper of 
 virtue." 
 
 There was a certain something, as I 
 thought, more like suppressed melancholy 
 than genuine hilarity, in the expression of 
 the old man's face, as well as in the tone of 
 his voice, while he gave utterance to these 
 sentiments ; nor did any of those present ap- 
 pear desirous of protracting the argument ; 
 although I did not imagine from their looks 
 that any of them had altered their opinion. 
 What, however, I could not help remark- 
 ing in a particular manner, was the gentle 
 regret painted in the beautiful countenance
 
 107 
 
 of Athanasia, while her uncle was speaking. 
 The maiden sate over against him all the 
 while, with her cheek supported on her left 
 hand, pale and silent, with an expression of 
 deep affection and tender pity. From time 
 to time, indeed, she cast her eye upward with 
 a calm smile, but imm ediately resumed her 
 attitude of pensive abstraction. Her uncle 
 took her hand in his when he had done speak- 
 ing, and kissed it tenderly, as if to apologize 
 for having said any thing disagreeable to her. 
 She smiled again upon the sceptic, and then 
 rising gracefully, walked by herself (for I 
 could not help following her with my eye,) 
 down into a dark walk of pines that branch- 
 ed off at the right hand from the entrance 
 of the grotto. There I saw her stoop and 
 pluck a beautiful pale flower, streaked all 
 over as with spots of blood. This she placed 
 in her bosom, and then rejoined us with a 
 more cheerful aspect ; after which, we all 
 walked towards the villa. Nor did it escape 
 my notice, that, although Sempronia ap-
 
 108 
 
 peared willing to avoid Sextus as we went, 
 it always happened, by some accident or 
 other, that he was nearer to her than any 
 other person of the company. 
 
 They were both at a little distance behind 
 the rest of the party, when Euphranor ad- 
 dressed himself to me, saying, " Is not this 
 young man, your companion, the same that 
 is under the guidance of a certain Rhetori- 
 cian, by name Xerophrastes ?" 
 
 " The same,'* said I, " and a wary, sage- 
 looking person indeed is his tutor. I be- 
 lieve he also is of the Porch ." 
 
 " Yes, no doubt he is of the Porch," in- 
 terrupted Demochares ; " any body may see 
 that with half an eye, my good friend Eu- 
 phranor ; for he has a beard that Zeno him- 
 self might have been proud of, and walks 
 withal in as dignified a manner as if he con- 
 ceived himself to be the chief pillar of the 
 Porch, if not the very Porch itself." 
 
 " Yes, yes, who shall prevent Demo- 
 chares from having his jest ?" replied the
 
 109 
 
 Stoic Euphranor with great gravity, " but 
 Valerius must not be permitted to go away 
 in the belief that this hero of the beard is 
 really what he pretends to be." 
 
 " Why, what does the man pretend to 
 
 be ?" cried our host, " he wears a long 
 
 beard and writes himself Athenian andRhe- 
 torician — I see no pretence in the matter." 
 
 " Oh no, Capito," says Euphranor, " you 
 cannot be in earnest in what you say, the 
 man is a mere quack ; and, for that matter, 
 if you only heard him utter ten words, you 
 would be abundantly satisfied that he is no 
 Athenian. The man is by a birth a Thes- 
 salian, and his gutturals still remind one 
 strongly of his native hills." 
 
 I felt considerably interested in this dis- 
 course, and would gladly have heard more 
 of it, but it was interrupted by the nearer 
 approach of the rest of the party, and, ere 
 long, we all entered the house together.
 
 110 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Before the hour of taking the bath, we 
 exercised ourselves for some time in the 
 tennis-court, where I could not help won- 
 dering very much at the vigour and agility 
 displayed by old Capito and his companions. 
 I was then conducted into the baths, where, 
 after being washed and perfumed in the 
 most luxurious manner, I was arrayed in 
 an elegant supper- garment by one of the 
 slaves of our host. At table we were joined 
 again by the ladies, who both reclined on 
 the same couch with their uncle. Three 
 comely youths alone attended us, in short 
 tunics, and girt with napkins of fine linen ; 
 but, during the repast, an ancient female 
 slave stood in silence behind the couch of
 
 Ill 
 
 the young ladies. A small fountain of ala- 
 baster played between two tall candalabra 
 of the same material, at the further end of 
 the apartment ; and a young damsel stood 
 beside them, swinging slowly from time to 
 time a silver censer, from which clouds of 
 delicate odour rolled up to the mirrored 
 roof. 
 
 In all things the feast was splendid ; yet 
 there was no appearance of useless or vain 
 ostentation. Every thing was conducted in 
 a style of great calmness and order, with- 
 out the least formality. The repast inter- 
 rupted not the conversation, which went 
 on in a manner to me equally instructive 
 as entertaining ; although I must confess, 
 the presence of Athanasia sometimes ren- 
 dered me inattentive to what was spoken. 
 I could not divest myself of the idea, that 
 some unknown circumstance was pressing 
 on the mind of the fair creature, — that some 
 secret feeling had obtained the chief posses- 
 sion of her thoughts, — and that when she 
 smiled upon those that addressed her, it was
 
 112 
 
 oftentimes only to conceal her ignorance of 
 that which had been said. 
 
 Being asked by Capito, I endeavoured, 
 among other things, to inform him and his 
 friends, as far as I could, concerning the 
 then condition of this island, which, more 
 particularly after the exploits of Agricola, 
 had naturally come to be a subject of much 
 interest in the imperial city. In return, 
 the chief topics ^of public concern, which 
 then occupied the capital, were discussed 
 by them, as I perceived, in a great measure, 
 on my account ; and I listened with delight 
 to the praises, which they all agreed in be- 
 stowing on the heroic and beneficial sway 
 of the new Emperor. Many anecdotes were 
 narrated, which tended to strengthen the 
 feelings of reverence and admiration, with 
 which I had already been accustomed to 
 contemplate the character of Trajan. But 
 others were told, as the conversation went 
 on, which I could not so easily reconcile 
 with the idea I had previously formed of 
 him.
 
 113 
 
 In particular, I was not a little disturbed 
 with what they told me concerning his 
 treatment of the Christians, who, as w r e un- 
 derstood in Britain, had been suffered to live 
 in tranquillity ever since Nerva acceded 
 to the empire. But now, from the circum- 
 stances related to me, it appeared that the 
 mild and humane Trajan had taken up, in 
 regard to this unfortunate sect, the whole 
 aversion of Domitian himself; insomuch, 
 that every day some cruel catastrophe was 
 made known of some person who had adopt- 
 ed their tenets. Being ignorant of the na- 
 ture of these tenets, and having heard only 
 in general terms that they were of Jewish 
 origin, and in their nature extremely dark 
 and mystical, I was at a loss to conceive any 
 rational method of accounting for the ex- 
 treme hatred of the prince, or rather for 
 his condescending to give himself so much 
 trouble concerning a matter of so much ob- 
 scurity, and apparent indifference. 
 
 Capito, however, assured me, that al- 
 though I might have good occasion to won-
 
 114 
 
 der at the steps taken by the Emperor, it 
 would no longer be said by any one, that 
 the progress of the Christian sect deserved 
 to be considered as a matter either of ob- 
 scurity, or of indifference. " On the con- 
 trary," said he, " from what you have just 
 heard of the numbers and quality of those 
 that have lately suffered various punish- 
 ments, on account of their adherence to this 
 strange superstition, you cannot hesitate to 
 admit that the head of the empire has been 
 justified in considering it as a subject well 
 worthy his attention. As to the merits or 
 demerits of the superstitition itself, or of 
 those that have embraced it, these are very 
 different matters." 
 
 "The only qu estion," said Mam urra, "with 
 which Trajan had any business, was, whe- 
 ther this Jewish superstition be, or be not, 
 inconsistent with the established religion of 
 our ancestors and the state. Rome has 
 grown and flourished under the protection 
 of the gods our fathers worshipped ; and 
 the laws and institutions of the empire are
 
 115 
 
 all built upon the foundation of reverence 
 for these guardian deities. If this Asiatic 
 worship can exist along with that of the 
 gods of the Capitol, what should we or any 
 have to say against it ? We have adopted 
 the gods of many nations ; nor do I see 
 why, because the Jews have been unfortu- 
 nate in a contest with Rome, we should 
 take it for granted, that their deities are 
 unworthy of respect. Destiny has willed 
 that Rome should be the Mistress of the 
 World ; but it seems neither necessary nor 
 fitting, that she should carry her controul 
 into the secret parts of men's minds, and 
 interfere with their notions of religious ob- 
 ligation. If, however, it be so, as we have 
 all heard asserted, and as I doubt not Tra- 
 jan believes, that he who embraces the creed 
 of the Christians becomes from that hour 
 an infidel in regard to the deities of Rome, 
 and, therefore, a scorner of those principles on 
 which the security of the Roman government 
 and law is established, — then, I say, the prince 
 does well in extirpating such an intolerant 
 and intolerable superstition. And if the
 
 116 
 
 thing be in itself deserving of such severi- 
 ty, I do not see that we should attach any 
 blame to Trajan, for behaving as he has 
 done. Domitian was a tyrant, and a mon- 
 ster of humanity ; and Nerva was wise and 
 good ; and yet it may be, that, in regard to 
 these Christians, the principle of Domitian's 
 conduct was right in the main, and that of 
 Nerva's wrong in the main. As to the un- 
 necessary brutalities of the fly-killer,* we 
 have no occasion to take them into the ac- 
 count. But you, my friend Capito, regard 
 both sides of the question, I have no doubt, 
 with pretty much the same measure of in- 
 difference." 
 
 " Nay," replied Capito, " in this matter 
 you do me very much injustice. 1 never 
 can regard with indifference any question, 
 in which the interest of the empire, and the 
 honour of Trajan, are concerned. And 
 
 * Domitian was so called, in consequence of the re- 
 ports circulated concerning the nature of his solitary 
 pastimes. Hence the famous answer recorded in Sue- 
 tonius : — " Is there any one with Caesar ?" n No— not 
 even a fly" — Ne musca quidem.
 
 117 
 
 moreover, it would be great hypocrisy in 
 me to pretend, that I can regard, without 
 concern, any question which involves, as I 
 think the present assuredly does, one of the 
 greatest interests of the whole human race, 
 — I mean the right of adopting, each man 
 for himself, whatever opinion may appear to 
 be the most rational concerning all matters 
 of religious belief. But if you mean only 
 to say, that I am indifferent about the na- 
 ture of this Christian superstition, you are, 
 I must confess, so far in the right. 1 have 
 no knowledge of its dogmas, and I have no 
 great desire to have any knowledge of them. 
 I presume they have their full share of that 
 old eastern barbarity, in the shady places 
 of which the elder Greeks used to think 
 they could discover the outlines of some- 
 thing really grand and majestic. But as 
 for me, I have ceased, as you well know, 
 to be a student of any such mysterious and 
 difficult matters." 
 
 " There is no occasion," resumed Ma- 
 murra, " why you should give yourself any 
 trouble about them. I do not pretend, any
 
 118 
 
 more than you, to enter into the merits of 
 the Christian superstition ; I only say, that 
 if the superstition be found incapable of sub- 
 sisting among the subjects of the Roman 
 state without danger to the public interest, 
 the prince does well in repressing its pro- 
 gress. That is the only question of which I 
 spake." 
 
 " There is, indeed, no other," said Capi- 
 ta, " and I thought of none." 
 
 " And how do you answer it, dear uncle?" 
 cried Athanasia, (lifting herself up, for the 
 first time, to take part in the conversation.) 
 
 " Nay, Athanasia, my love," said the old 
 man, " to answer that is the business of the 
 prince, and of the senate — not mine. I med- 
 dle not with it at all ; I only regret, that 
 blood should be shed, and citizens exiled ; 
 above all, in the reign of a just and merciful 
 prince. — Sempronia," continued he, "what 
 is that strange story your father was telling 
 about one of the daughters of Serennius ?" 
 
 w Of Serennia Tertulla, do you mean ?" 
 said Sempronia. 
 
 6i Yes, Sempronia, it was the same."
 
 119 
 
 " Oh, uncle !" replied Sempronia, " her 
 story was nothing extraordinary, as times 
 go. It was only, that she had a flirtation 
 with a handsome young Greek, and the 
 handsome young Greek happened to be a 
 Christian, — and she was converted by the 
 handsome young Greek, — and she was found 
 out in going with him to some secret as- 
 sembly of these people, in a vault some- 
 where by the Vatican Hill, — and her papa 
 has been glad to send her to Corsica, or 
 some other desolate island, partly to es- 
 cape the notice of the lawyers, and partly, 
 I suppose, in hopes that the quietness of 
 the island, and the absence of all the hand- 
 some young Christians, may perhaps, in 
 time, restore poor Tertulla to her right 
 mind — This is all. Do you think that a 
 strange story, uncle ?" 
 
 " Not, if it be exactly as you have told 
 it, Sempronia ; but I am afraid you have 
 been wicked enough to give it a colouring 
 of your own. — What says Athanasia?" 
 
 Athanasia started on being addressed so
 
 120 
 
 by her uncle, but made no reply, except 
 that she was sorry for Tertulla, and had ne- 
 ver heard anything of the handsome young 
 Greek before. I could not, however, help 
 suspecting, from the expression of her face, 
 that she knew more of the affair than she 
 was willing to acknowledge ; for she was 
 the only one of the company who did not 
 laugh at the account given of it by her cou- 
 sin. On the contrary, her looks were graver 
 than before, and I would fain have asked 
 her whether she had been a friend of this 
 Tertulla at any time, but was afraid that I 
 might appear impertinently inquisitive, and 
 therefore kept silence. 
 
 By this time the evening w r as somewhat 
 spent, and the increasing darkness of the 
 chamber warned us that we ought to be 
 thinking of our return to the city. I look- 
 ed towards Sextus as if to signify what I 
 thought, but he refused to meet my eye, al- 
 though I perceived he was not unconscious 
 of my purpose. At the moment, however, 
 when I was on the point of speaking, the
 
 121 
 
 room, which, as I have said, was cloudy, 
 was getting rapidly darker, became all of a 
 sudden filled with so deep a shade, that 
 none of us could help remarking it ; and 
 Sempronia, leaping from her couch, exclaim- 
 ed, that she was sure there was thunder in 
 the skies, for that she felt as if there were 
 something stifling in the air, and the still- 
 ness all around was like that of midnight. 
 No' sooner had she said so, than we found 
 she had judged aright ; for the deep voice 
 of the thunder was heard as if rending the 
 woods around, and flash after flash of light- 
 ning gleamed along the horizon ; and anon, 
 after a brief pause, the wind howled as if set 
 free from some captivity, and the rain be- 
 gan to fall in big heavy drops. Every one 
 sat silent, as if awe-struck ; but Sempronia 
 was the only one that seemed to be in ter- 
 ror from the tempest. Nevertheless, my 
 eyes rested more on Athanasia, who looked 
 paler than she had done, although her coun- 
 tenance still preserved all its serenity, and 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 122 
 
 her eyes were turned calmly towards the 
 open doors of the portico, in the region 
 where the lightnings had been visible. 
 
 The rain poured down heavily for a space, 
 and the wind was loud along the grass, and 
 in the air, till the thunder began to mutter 
 again from amongst the distant trees, and 
 then all other sounds ceased, as if rebuked 
 and chastened before its voice. I looked, 
 and saw the fire dart across the eastern sky, 
 and heard the terrible growling from the 
 low clouds. " How awful," said I, " is the 
 voice of Jupiter !" Athanasia folded her 
 arms upon her bosom, and lifting her eyes 
 to heaven, made answer in a whisper, — 
 " How awful is the voice of God !" She 
 then dropt her left hand on the end of her 
 couch, and half unconsciously taking hold 
 of it in mine, I asked her if she was afraid. 
 " No," said she, " I am not afraid, but the 
 heaviness of the air makes me a little faint, 
 and I never can listen to the thunder with- 
 out feeling something extraordinary within 
 me." In saying so, she did not withdraw
 
 123 
 
 her hand from mine, and I thought I felt 
 it tremble; but perhaps this might have 
 been no more than the suggestion of my 
 imagination. 
 
 By degrees, the sounds of the thunder 
 were heard more and more distant ; but, the 
 rain and the wind continuing all around us, 
 Capito said, he could not think of our go- 
 ing into the city that evening, and that we 
 must all make up our minds to remain in 
 the villa. The countenance of Sextus bright- 
 ened up when he heard him say so, and he 
 looked to me as if to ask my assent. To 
 say the truth, I was as willing to stay as he 
 could be ; so we easily permitted ourselves 
 to be persuaded, and our host dispatched a 
 messenger to Home, to inform Licinius of 
 the cause of our absence. The old man then 
 led us into another apartment, which was 
 richly furnished with books and paintings. 
 Here he read for some time out of one of 
 the poets, to a party, none of whom, I am 
 afraid, were very attentive in listening to 
 him, till, the hour of rest being come, the
 
 124 
 
 attendants entered, and we were conducted 
 to our several apartments, Sextus and my- 
 self, indeed, being lodged in the same cham- 
 ber.
 
 125 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 We were no sooner left alone than I be- 
 gan to rally my friend on the beauty of his 
 mistress, and the earnest court he had been 
 paying her during the whole of the day. 
 The youth listened with blushes of delight 
 to the praises of Sempronia, but seemed not 
 to have the least idea that he had been so 
 fortunate as to make any favourable impres- 
 sion on her mind. On the contrary, he scarce- 
 ly appeared to be aware of having done any 
 thing to attract particular attention from 
 her, and expressed much astonishment when 
 I assured him, that his behaviour had been 
 such as could not possibly admit of more 
 than one explanation in the eyes of a person
 
 126 
 
 so quick and vivacious as the lovely Sem- 
 pronia. 
 
 After we had both retired to our beds, 
 and the lights were extinguished, we still 
 continued for some time to talk over the 
 incidents of our visit, and the future pros- 
 pects of Sextus and his love ; until at length 
 sleep overpowered us in easy bonds, and 
 agreeable dreams followed, I doubt not, in 
 the hearts of us both, the thoughts and sights 
 of a delightful day. Mine surely were de- 
 lightful, for they were all of Athanasia. Yet, 
 even in these visions of the night, I could 
 never see her face without some strange im- 
 pression of mystery. I saw her placid smile 
 — I heard the sweet low cadence of her voice 
 — but I felt, and I could not feel it without 
 a certain indescribable anxiety, that her deep 
 thoughts were far away busied about some- 
 thing of which I knew nothing. 
 
 I awoke early, and lay for a long while 
 ruminating in silence. The most natural 
 explanation of all things appeared to be, that 
 she was occupied with some secret, perhaps
 
 127 
 
 unhappy passion. But I know not how it 
 was, that I could not bring myself to rest 
 satisfied with this conclusion. 
 
 I arose, and drew near to the bed of Sex- 
 tus ; but seeing that he was fast asleep, and 
 that a quiet smile was on his lips, I could 
 not think of awaking him. But the sun 
 shone bright into the apartment, and I re- 
 solved to walk forth and breathe the balmy 
 air of the morning. 
 
 My steps were directed, almost uncon- 
 sciously, to the same part of the gardens 
 where I had first seen Athanasia on the pre- 
 ceding day. The moisture was still lying 
 heavy there on the green paths, and the birds 
 were singing among the glittering leaves ; 
 the godlike statues stood there in their si- 
 lent beauty ; — the lightnings had not scathed 
 them — the wind had not shaken them — and 
 the rain- drops had fallen on them only to 
 refresh their pale loveliness. I walked to 
 and fro, enjoying, without an effort, the en- 
 chantment of the scene ; — a new feeling of 
 the beauty of all things seemed to have been
 
 128 
 
 breathed into my soul ; and the pensive 
 grace of Athanasia hovered over my ima- 
 gination, like some presiding genius of the 
 groves. 
 
 At length I found myself near the favour- 
 ite grotto of Capito, and I stood over against 
 its entrance for some space, contemplating 
 the augmented stream as it fell from the su- 
 perincumbent rock, and regretting the ra- 
 vage which the nightly tempest had made 
 among the slender shafts and delicate blos- 
 soms of the flowers that were planted around 
 its basin. Twice I thought I heard the mur- 
 murs of a human voice near me, and twice 
 I persuaded myself that it was only the rip- 
 pling of the waters ; but I listened more at- 
 tentively, and the third time I was satisfied 
 that some person must be in the grotto. I 
 passed between the water and the rock, and 
 looking in, beheld the fair creature that had 
 been occupying so many of my thoughts 
 kneeling far in the grotto, with her back to 
 the place where I stood.
 
 129 
 
 Her long black tresses hung all down 
 her shoulders ; her hands seemed to be 
 clasped before her ; and although she was 
 silent for the moment, I was satisfied that 
 the sounds I had heard had been those of 
 supplication. To disturb her by advancing 
 farther, would have been impious ; to re- 
 tire, without the risk of disturbing her, al- 
 most impossible ; but I remained there fix- 
 ed to the spot, without perhaps considering 
 all these things, as I should have done. The 
 virgin-modesty of her attitude was holy in 
 my eyes, and the thought never occurred 
 to me, that I might be doing wrong in per* 
 mitting myself to witness the simple devo- 
 tions of Athanasia. " Great God, listen to 
 my prayers," was all I understood of what 
 she said ; but she whispered for some mo- 
 ments in a lowly and fervent tone, and I 
 saw that she kissed something with her 
 lips ere she arose from her knees. She then 
 plunged her hands into the well, by whose 
 brink she had knelt, and turned round to 
 F 2
 
 the light. " Athanasia, forgive me," was 
 already on my lips ; but on seeing me, she 
 uttered a faint cry, and fell prostrate upon 
 the marble. I rushed forward in an agony, 
 and found that she had swooned away. I 
 lifted up her head, and laid it in my bosom, 
 and laved water on it from the fountain, 
 till I saw her lips tremble. At last she 
 opened her eyes, and after gazing on me 
 wildly for a moment, she gathered her 
 strength, and stood quite upright, support- 
 ing herself against the wall of the grotto. 
 " Great heavens !" cried I, (< in what have 
 I offended, that I should be rendered the 
 cause of affliction to Athanasia? Speak, 
 lady, and say that you forgive me." 
 
 " I thought," said she, with a proud calm- 
 ness, " that Valerius was of Roman — of 
 Patrician blood. What brings him to be a 
 spy upon the secret moments of a Patrician 
 maiden ?" — Then bursting into a tone of 
 unutterable fervour, (( Speak," said she, 
 " young man, what have you heard ? How 
 long have you stood here ? Am I betray-
 
 131 
 
 ed ? Am I ruined for ever ? Tell me the 
 worst, and let me begone to my kindred." 
 
 " Witness, heaven and earth !" cried I, 
 kneeling to the ground before her, " and 
 witness every god, that I have heard no- 
 thing, except to know that you were pray- 
 ing. What you asked I know not — to 
 whom you prayed I know not — I have only 
 seen you kneeling, and been guilty of gazing 
 on your beauty." 
 
 "You heard not the words of my prayer?" 
 said she. 
 
 " No, not its words, Athanasia, nor any 
 thing of its purpose." 
 
 " Do you swear this to me, young man ?" 
 
 " Yes, I swear by Jupiter and by Rome 
 — as I am a man and a Roman, I know not, 
 neither do I desire to know, any thing of 
 what you said. Forgive me for the fault 
 of my indiscretion — you have no other to 
 forgive." 
 
 Athanasia paused for a moment, and then 
 resuming more of her usual tone of voice,
 
 132 
 
 (although its accents were still somewhat 
 disturbed and faultering,) said to me, " Va- 
 lerius, since the thing is so, I have nothing 
 to forgive — I blame you for nothing — I 
 have nobody to find fault with but myself. 
 It is you that must pardon me for my sus- 
 picion and my fervour. I have injured you, 
 and I repent of it." 
 
 " Distress me not, Athanasia," said I, 
 " by speaking such words as these. You 
 wound me more than ever/ if you proceed." 
 
 " From this hour, then," said she, " what 
 has passed here is forgotten by us both. 
 We blot it from our memories;" — and with 
 that, as if in token of the paction, she ex- 
 tended to me her hand. I kissed it as I 
 knelt, and swore that all things were safe 
 with me ; but added, as I arose, " that I 
 was afraid I should be promising more than 
 I should be able to perform, — did I say I 
 should be able to forget any hour, or any 
 place, where I had seen Athanasia." 
 
 " Nay," said she, " no compliment, or I 
 shall begin to suspect you of insincerity."
 
 133 
 
 I was then about to withdraw from the 
 grotto ; but seeing a scroll of parchment 
 lying at the feet of Athanasia, I stooped, 
 and presented it to her, saying, " I was 
 afraid she might forget it." 
 
 She took it eagerly, and saying, " Of 
 that there was no danger,'* placed it in her 
 bosom, within the folds of her tunic. She 
 was then gathering up her black tresses, 
 and fastening them hastily on the back part 
 of her head, when we heard the sound of 
 footsteps not far off, and beckoning to me to 
 remain where I was, she darted from me, 
 and in a moment vanished among the trees. 
 I waited for a few minutes, and then step- 
 ping forth, beheld her walking at a distance, 
 beside her sister, in the direction of the villa. 
 They were soon lost among the paths, and 
 I returned alone into the grotto. 
 
 I sat down beside the dark well, wherein 
 she had dipt her hands, and mused in a 
 most disturbed mood on all the particu- 
 lars of this strange and unexpected inter-
 
 134 
 
 view. Every motion of her features — every 
 modulation of her voice, was present with 
 me ; I had gathered them all into my heart, 
 and I felt that I must cherish them there 
 for ever. From the first moment I saw 
 her, my eyes had been constrained to gaze 
 upon her with an interest quite novel to 
 me ; but now I knew that she could not 
 smile, without making my heart faint within 
 me, and that the least whisper of her voice 
 was able to bring tears into mine eyes. Now 
 I thought of my own unworthiness, and 
 could not help saying to myself, " Why 
 should a poor ignorant provincial, such as 
 1 am, be torturing himself with the thoughts 
 of such a creature as this !*' Then again some 
 benign glance of hers would return before 
 me, and I could not help having some faint 
 hopes, that her innocent heart might be 
 won to me by faithful unwearied love. But 
 w T hat always threw me back into despair, 
 was the recollection of the mystery that 1 
 knew hung over her mind, although what
 
 135 
 
 it was I could not know. That she had 
 been saying something in her prayers, which 
 could not be overheard without betraying, 
 — nay, as she said, ruining her, — she had 
 herself confessed to me. What could be 
 this strange secret, so cherished in dread, 
 and in darkness, by this lovely maiden ? — 
 A crime ? — No — no crime could sully the 
 clear bosom of her innocence. No con- 
 sciousness of guilt could be concealed be- 
 neath the radiant beauty of that heavenly 
 visage. But perhaps, although guiltless her- 
 self, she had been made the confidante of 
 some erring, — some unhappy friend. Per- 
 haps, in her prayer, she had made mention 
 of another's name, and implored the pardon 
 of another's guilt * # * *. Last of all, why 
 might it not be so, that the maiden loved, 
 and was beloved again in secret ; that, from 
 circumstances to me unknown and impe- 
 netrable, she might have reason to regard 
 any casual betrayal of her love as a calami- 
 ty ; and that, having uttered the name of 
 her lover in her secret supplications, her
 
 136 
 
 terrors might all have been occasioned by 
 her apprehensions of my having overheard 
 it ? And yet there was something in the 
 demeanour of Athanasia, that I could not 
 bring myself to reconcile entirely with any 
 one of these suppositions. Had she feared 
 that I had overheard any confession of 
 guilt, — even of the guilt of another, — sure- 
 ly some semblance of shame would have 
 been mingled with her looks of terror. Had 
 she apprehended only the discovery of an 
 innocent love, surely her blushes would 
 have been deeper, and her boldness less. 
 Yet the last solution of the difficulty was 
 that which haunted me the most power- 
 fully. 
 
 When I came forth into the open air, I 
 was astonished to perceive that the sun was 
 already high in heaven, and I proceeded in 
 haste towards the villa, not doubting that 
 Sextus and Capito would be greatly asto- 
 nished by the length of my absence. I found 
 them and the ladies walking under the nor- 
 thern colonnade, having returned, as they
 
 137 
 
 told me, from a fruitless search after me 
 through almost the whole of the garden. I 
 looked to Athanasia, as if to signify that 
 she well knew where I might have been 
 found ; but, although I saw that she per- 
 fectly understood my meaning, she said no- 
 thing in explanation. Sextus drew me aside 
 shortly after, and told me, that his father 
 had sent to inform him, that our presence 
 was necessary in the city before supper- 
 time, to attend a great entertainment which 
 was to be given that evening by the lady 
 whose cause he had successfully pleaded in 
 the Forum on the preceding day; which 
 lady, I now for the first time learned, was 
 no other than the same Marcia Rubellia, 
 to whom his father was very anxious the 
 youth should be married. The success of 
 this pleading had increased very much the 
 wealth of the lady, and, of course, as Sex- 
 tus very well knew, the anxiety of Licinius 
 for the proposed union ; and to remain at 
 the villa any longer, was, he said, entirely 
 impossible, since he already suspected his
 
 138 
 
 father had not been quite pleased with him 
 for leaving the Forum the day before, with- 
 out staying to hear out a cause in which his 
 duty, if not his inclination, ought to have 
 made him feel so greatly interested. 
 
 We bade adieu, therefore, to our kind host 
 and the young ladies, not without more re- 
 luctance than either of us durst express, and 
 ready promises to return soon again to the 
 villa. We found Dromo and Boto waiting 
 for us at the gate, the former of whom look- 
 ed a thousand unutterable things at his 
 young master and me when we joined them, 
 while the latter appeared to be as joyful in 
 seeing me again, as if we had been parted 
 for a twelvemonth. The two slaves were 
 mounted on asses, but they led horses for 
 our conveyance ; so we mounted with all 
 speed, and were soon beyond the beautiful 
 enclosures of the villa of Capito. As soon 
 as we were fairly out of sight of the house, 
 Dromo began to ply Sextus with innu- 
 merable questions about the result of the 
 visit, all of them in bad Greek ; that, as he
 
 139 
 
 said, there might be no chance of what pass- 
 ed being understood by the Druid ; for by 
 that venerable designation, he informed us, 
 the primitive Boto had already come to be 
 best known in the vestibule of Licinius. 
 " Ah !" quoth he, "there is no need for many 
 words ; I am sure my young master has 
 not been behind hand with himself. If he 
 has, it is no fault of mine, however. I put 
 Opportunity into his hands, and she, you 
 know, as the poets say, has only one lock of 
 hair, and that is in front." 
 
 Sextus being very shy of entering into 
 particulars, I found myself obliged to take 
 upon me the satisfying of the curiosity of 
 this inquisitive varlet, which I did in a man- 
 ner that much astonished Sextus, who by 
 no means suspected, that in the midst of my 
 own attention to the other cousin, I had 
 been able to take so much notice of what 
 passed between him and Sempronia. How- 
 ever, the good youth took a little raillery 
 all in good part, and we laughed loudly in 
 unison at the triumphant capers which the
 
 140 
 
 whip of Dromo made his poor ass exhibit, 
 in testimony of his satisfaction with the pro- 
 gress which all things appeared to be ma- 
 king. We reached the mansion of Lici- 
 nius about three hours after noon, and were 
 told by the slaves in attendance, that Xero- 
 phrastes had gone out some time before, and 
 that Licinius himself was already busy in 
 arraying himself for the feast of Rubellia.
 
 141 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Her mansion was situated about the mid- 
 dle of the Suburra, in a neighbourhood no- 
 wise splendid, and itself distinguished, on 
 the side fronting to the street, by no un- 
 common marks of elegance or opulence. A 
 plain brick wall covered almost the whole 
 of the building from the eye of the passen- 
 ger ; and what was seen deserved the praise 
 of neatness, rather than that of magnificence. 
 Nevertheless, the moment one had passed 
 the gate, and entered the court, one could 
 not help perceiving, that taste and wealth 
 had been alike expended abundantly on the 
 residence of Rubellia ; for the broad terrace 
 and gallery behind were lavishly adorned, 
 the c-ne with sculpture and the other with
 
 U2 
 
 paintings ; and the gardens, which these 
 overlooked, appeared to be both extensive 
 and elaborate. 
 
 We were conducted through several pil- 
 lared halls, and then up a wide staircase, of 
 somewhat sombre magnificence, into the 
 chamber, where the company were already 
 in part assembled, and busy in offering their 
 congratulations to the mistress of the feast. 
 She was so much engaged with their flat- 
 teries that she did not at first perceive our 
 entrance ; but as soon as she knew who had 
 come, the chief part of her attention was de- 
 voted, I shall not say in what proportions, 
 between her victorious advocate and his 
 blushing son. Nevertheless, the kinsman 
 of Licinius and the companion of young 
 Sextus had no occasion to accuse the fair 
 lady of negligence, although he was not quite 
 so vain as to imagine that he owed all her 
 civilities to the favourable impression of his 
 own figure and address. 
 
 To me, the whole scene was of course per- 
 fectly novel — To you, could you behold it
 
 143 
 
 at this moment, it would, I am sure, be almost 
 equally so ; for rapidly as we have been ad- 
 vancing in our imitation of the manners of 
 the capital, our island, most unquestionably, 
 has never yet displayed any thing that could 
 sustain the smallest comparison with what 
 then met my eyes in the stately saloon of 
 this luxurious widow. The group around 
 her was gay and various, and she herself was 
 exquisitely worthy of forming its centre; for 
 she was young and handsome, and dressed 
 in a style of the utmost splendour, and her 
 deportment was equally elegant and viva- 
 cious. 
 
 Her complexion was of that clear rich 
 brown which lends to the eye a greater bril- 
 liancy than the most exquisite contrast of 
 red and white ; and over which the blood, 
 when it does come into the face, diffuses at 
 once the warmest and the deepest of blushes. 
 Her hair appeared to be perfectly black, un- 
 less where the light streaming from behind 
 her gave an edging of glossy brown to the 
 thick masses of her curls. Her robe of crim-
 
 144 
 
 son silk was fastened by a girdle, which 
 seemed to consist of nothing but rubies and 
 emeralds, strung upon threads of gold. She 
 wore a tiara that rose high above her tresses, 
 and was all over resplendent with flowers 
 woven in jewellery ; and around her deli- 
 cate wrists and ancles were twined broad 
 chains of virgin gold, interspersed with al- 
 ternate wreaths of sapphire. Her form was 
 the perfection of luxury ; and although I 
 have said that her deportment was in gene- 
 ral lively and brilliant, yet there was a soft 
 seriousness that every now and then settled 
 in her eyes, which gave her, for a moment, 
 a look of melancholy that seemed to me 
 more likely to be in harmony with the se- 
 cret nature of her disposition, I watched 
 her in particular when she spoke to Sextus ; 
 her full rich-toned voice was then merry, 
 and her large eyes sparkled ; but when she 
 was engaged with any other person she 
 could not help gazing on thebeautiful youth 
 in silence ; and then it was that her coun-
 
 145 
 
 tenanee wore its deepest expression of calm- 
 ness — I had almost said, of sadness. 
 
 Had I not spent the preceding day at the 
 villa of Capito, I dare say I should have won- 
 dered at the coldness with which Sextus ap- 
 peared to receive all the marks of her fa- 
 vour ; and, as it was, I could not help con- 
 templating this fair creature with a mix- 
 ture of admiration and pity, — emotions, one 
 of which was, I doubt not, partaken by 
 all present — the other was probably con- 
 fined to myself. I had been gazing on her 
 in this manner 1 know not how long, from 
 another part of the room, when I heard a 
 hearty chuckle from behind me, and thought 
 I could not be unacquainted with the voice. 
 Looking round, I saw, not without delight, 
 the stately figure of my Praetorian Captain, 
 Sabinus, whose cheerful eye soon distin- 
 guished me, and who forthwith came up to 
 salute me in the most friendly manner. I 
 introduced him to Licinius and Sextus, the 
 former of whom expressed himself as being 
 VOL. i. G
 
 3 46 
 
 much gratified with the attention the cen- 
 turion had shewn to me during our voyage ; 
 so that I felt myself, as it were, no longer 
 a stranger in the place ; and the lutes and 
 trumpets at that moment announcing that 
 supper was ready to be served up, I took 
 care to keep close to Sabinus, and to place 
 myself near him on the couch. 
 
 The room in which the feast was prepa- 
 red, communicated by a pair of brazen fold- 
 ing doors, richly sculptured, with that in 
 which the company had assembled; but 
 from it, although the sun had not yet gone 
 down, all light was excluded, excepting 
 what streamed from golden candelabra, and 
 broad lamps of bronze suspended overhead 
 from the high and painted ceiling. The 
 party might consist of about twenty, who 
 reclined along one demi- circular couch, the 
 covers of which were of the softest down, 
 and the frame-work inlaid with ivory, — the 
 part of the room enclosed by its outline, 
 which resembled that of a horse-shoe, be- 
 ing occupied with the table, and an open
 
 147 
 
 space, to which the attendants had free ac- 
 cess. We had no sooner taken our seats 
 than a crowd of slaves entered, carrying 
 large boards upon their heads, which be- 
 ing forthwith arranged on the table, were 
 seen to be loaded with dishes of gold and 
 silver, and all manner of drinking- vessels, 
 also with vases of rare flowers, and urns of 
 perfume. But how did the countenance of 
 Sabinus brighten, when the trumpet sound- 
 ed a second time as if from below, and the 
 floor of the chamber was suddenly, as it 
 were, pierced in twain, and the pealing mu- 
 sic ushered up a huge roasted boar, all wrea- 
 thed with stately garnishings, and stand- 
 ing erect on his golden platform as on a 
 chariot of triumph ! 
 
 " Ah ! my dear boy," cries he, " here 
 comes the true king of beasts, and only le- 
 gitimate monarch of the woods. What 
 should we not have given for a slice of him 
 when w r e were pent up, half- starved and 
 fainting, in that abominable ship of ours ?— 
 All hail, most potent conqueror ! but whe-
 
 148 
 
 ther Germanic or Asiatic be thy proper 
 title, I shall soon know, when that expert 
 Ethiopean has daintily carved and divided 
 thee." 
 
 But why should I attempt to describe to 
 you the particulars of the feast ? Let it suf- 
 fice, that whatever idea I had formed of 
 Roman luxury, was far surpassed, and that 
 the splendour of the entertainment enga- 
 ged the attention of all except Rubellia 
 herself, who, reclining immediately above 
 Sextus, kept her eyes fixed almost all the 
 time it lasted, upon his luxuriant curls of 
 dark hair, unless when she caused the young 
 damsel, her cup-bearer, to pour out to her 
 wine in a goblet of onyx, which she touch- 
 ed with her lips, and then handed to the 
 indifferent boy. When the supper was half 
 over, the folding-doors were again thrown 
 open, and there entered a groupe of maidens 
 and beautiful youths, who danced before 
 us to the music of the lute, and scattered 
 crowns of roses at the feet of Rubellia and 
 her guests. She herself placed one of them
 
 149 
 
 on the head of Sextus, and another on that 
 of his father, who lay on the other side of 
 her, and then caused a large cup of wine to 
 be carried all around, whereof each of us 
 tasted, and drank to the health of the ora- 
 tor, in whose honour the entertainment was 
 made. The ladies that were present imita- 
 ted the example of the hostess, and crown- 
 ed such as were by them ; but Sabinus 
 and I, not being near enough to any of 
 them, received that courtesy from some of 
 the dancing maidens. Libations were pour- 
 ed out abundantly on the marble floor, and 
 all the gods were invoked to shower down 
 their blessings on Rubellia, and those that 
 had been so fortunate as to serve her. Sweet 
 strains of music resounded through the tall 
 pillars of the banquetting-room, and the 
 lamps burned heavily in an atmosphere 
 overloaded with perfumes. 
 
 It appeared to me, from the beginning, 
 that my friend Sabinus witnessed, not with- 
 out some feelings of displeasure, the ex- 
 cessive attentions which Rubellia lavished
 
 150 
 
 on young Sextus ; and I gathered, from 
 the way in which he every now and then 
 looked towards them during the supper, 
 that, had the place permitted, he would 
 not have allowed such things to go on with- 
 out some comment. But when we had left 
 the banquetting room, and removed to an- 
 other apartment, where, amidst various en- 
 tertainments of dancing, music, and recita- 
 tion, Jtubellia still retained close to herself 
 the heir of Licinius, the centurion made to 
 himself abundant amends for the previous 
 restraint to which his temper had been sub- 
 jected. 
 
 * Confess now," said he, " that she is a 
 lovely creature, and that your British beau- 
 ties are tame and insipid, when compared 
 with such a specimen of Horn an fascina- 
 tion ; and confess, withal, that this curled 
 boy is either the most ignorant, or the most 
 insusceptible of his sex. Good Heavens ! in 
 what a different style was she treated by 
 that old magistrate, whose very bust there, 
 in the corner, looks quite blank and discon*
 
 151 
 
 solate with its great white eyes, while she, 
 that sate for so many months pale and weep- 
 ing by his bed-side, is thinking of nothing 
 but to bestow all the wealth he left her on 
 a beardless stripling, who appears to regard 
 the bust and the beauty with almost equal 
 indifference. — Alas ! poor old withered Le- 
 berinus, little did you imagine that so 
 small a phial would suffice to hold all her 
 tears. My only wonder is, that she still 
 permits your marble image to occupy even 
 a corner of her mansion ; but, no doubt, 
 you will soon be sent on your travels. I 
 dare say, some cold pedestal in the garden 
 will, ere long, be the best birth you need 
 look for. — Well, well, you see what fools we 
 may all be made by the cunning of these 
 pretty crocodiles. Thank the stars, I have, 
 as yet at least, escaped that worst of all ca- 
 lamities. I hope my dotage, when it does 
 come, will not shew itself in the same shape 
 with that of my good old friend. Had she 
 wished to marry some respectable man, who 
 might be a protection to her and her mo-
 
 152 
 
 ney, one might have thought less of the 
 matter ; but this is really too much. I hope 
 the ghost of the worthy Praetor will not 
 frown unseen by her bed-side the night she 
 takes this Adonis to her arms. If I were 
 in his place, I should give her curtains a 
 pretty shake. By Hermes ! it would not 
 be a pretty monument and a flowery epi- 
 taph that would make me lie still." 
 
 " How long is it," said I, " since this ve- 
 nerable magistrate died ? Surely she has al- 
 lowed him the decency of a twelvemonth's 
 grief, before she began to give fine suppers, 
 and perceive the beauty of Sextus ?" 
 
 " Whether it be a twelvemonth ago or 
 not," replied the Centurion, " is more than 
 I can take upon me to decide; all I know 
 is, that it appears to me as if it were but 
 yesterday that 1 supped here — (it was just 
 before I set off for Britain) — and saw the 
 young lady reclining, even at table, with 
 those long black curls of her's, in the bosom 
 of the emaciated Leberinus. By Jupiter ! 
 the old man would not taste a drop of wine
 
 153 
 
 unless she kissed the cup — she coaxed every 
 morsel he swallowed down his throat, and 
 clasped the garland round his bald pate 
 with her own fingers ; ay, twice before that 
 sleek physician — that solemn-faced Greek, 
 whom you see at this moment talking with 
 your kinsman, advised her to have him car- 
 ried to his bed. For all the gravity of his 
 looks, I would lay a trifle, that worthy 
 Boeotian has his own thoughts about what 
 is passing, as well as I. But the worst- plea- 
 sed face in the whole room is, I think, that 
 of old Rubellius himself yonder, who has 
 just come in, without, I suppose, being- 
 aware that any such feast as this was going- 
 forward. Without question, the crafty old 
 usurer is of opinion he might have been in- 
 vited. I promise you, I can interpret the 
 glances of that grey-headed extortioner to 
 a nicety — (well I may, for it is not the first 
 time I have had an opportunity of study- 
 ing them) — Well, well," quoth he to him- 
 self, " she may do as she will with the 
 G %
 
 154 
 
 bonds of Leberinus ; but she might have 
 remembered, that a codicil can be easily 
 tacked to the end of a living man's testa- 
 ment." 
 
 " But, after all," said I, " one must ad- 
 mit, that if she married old Leberinus 
 to please her father, the widow has some 
 right to choose her second husband accord- 
 ing to the pattern of her own fancy." 
 
 " Oh ! by all means," answered he ; " let 
 her please herself; let her make a fool of 
 herself now, if she will. She may perhaps 
 learn, some time or other, that it is as pos- 
 sible to have too young a husband, as to 
 have too old a one." 
 
 " Come now," said I, " Sabinus — (for the 
 bitterness with which he spoke convinced 
 me what was at the bottom of his mind) — 
 confess that if she had selected some well- 
 made, middle-aged man — some respectable 
 man — some man of note and distinction, 
 you would have judged less harshly of poor 
 Rubellia ; some good-looking captain of 
 Praetorians, we shall say."
 
 155 
 
 " Ah ! you cunning dog," said he ; " who 
 would have thought that you had brought 
 so much wickedness from that new world 
 of yours? But do you really think she 
 will wed Sextus ? The boy appears strange- 
 ly cold. I should not wonder, when all is 
 done, if the match were more of the ora- 
 tor's seeking than his own." 
 
 " I can only tell you," said I, " that I 
 have never heard Licinius mention any 
 thing about it; and, I dare say, Sextus 
 would be very sorry to think of losing his 
 liberty for the sake of the wealth of Lebe- 
 rinus — ay, or for that of old Rubellius to 
 boot." 
 
 " Ah ! my young friend," quoth he, " you 
 are not quite acquainted with the way in 
 which these matters are managed at Rome. 
 If we had you six weeks at the other side 
 of the Viminal, w r e should teach you better." 
 
 I know not how long this sort of talk 
 might have lasted ; but Licinius put an end 
 to it by joining us, and soon engaged the 
 worthy Centurion, and several more of us.
 
 156 
 
 with some lively, but unintelligible discus- 
 sion on the merits of some new edict, of 
 which none of us had ever heard, or were 
 likely ever to hear any thing again. We 
 were glad to escape from the lawyer into 
 another room, where some Greek slaves 
 were performing a sort of comic panto- 
 mime, that appeared to give more delight 
 to old Rubellius than any other of the spec- 
 tators. As for Sextus, I saw plainly that 
 he was quite weary of the entertainment, 
 and anxious to get away ; but we were 
 obliged to remain till after Licinius was 
 gone, for it was evident that he wished his 
 son to see out the last. But no sooner had 
 we heard his chariot drive off, than the 
 young man and I took leave of the lady, 
 and withdrew. Sabinus lingered a moment 
 behind us, and then joined us in the vesti- 
 bule, from which, his course lying so far in 
 the same direction as ours, we all proceed- 
 ed homewards on foot ; and it was very 
 fortunate, as you shall hear, that we had, 
 on this occasion, the company of the Cen-
 
 157 
 
 turion, for not a few things occurred that 
 night which I should have been sorry not 
 to have observed, and of which, but for him, 
 it would nevertheless have been impossible 
 for me to have been witness. 
 
 We had proceeded along the street of 
 the Suburra for a considerable space, and 
 were already beneath the shade of the great 
 Temple of Isis and Serapis, (which stands 
 on the northern side of the Esquiline Hill, 
 nigh over against the Amphitheatre of 
 Vespasian,) when, from the opposite side of 
 the way, we were hailed by a small party 
 of soldiers, who, as it turned out, had been 
 sent from the Praetorian camp in search of 
 Sabinus, and one of whom had now recog- 
 nized his gait and stature, notwithstanding 
 the obscurity of the hour, and the distance 
 at which we were walking. The Centurion 
 went aside with the leader of these men for 
 some moments, and then informed us that 
 it was very fortunate they had so easily re- 
 cognized him, as the business on which 
 they had been sent was such as did not ad-
 
 158 
 
 mit of being negligently dealt with. " To- 
 morrow," said he, pointing to the Amphi- 
 theatre before us, " that glorious edifice is 
 to be the scene of one of the grandest shows 
 exhibited by Trajan since his accession to 
 the empire. It is the anniversary of the 
 day on which he was adopted by Nerva, 
 and the splendour of the spectacle will be 
 in proportion to the gratitude and vene- 
 ration with which he at all times regards 
 the memory of that excellent benefactor. 
 But there are some parts of the exhibition 
 that I am afraid old Nerva, could he be 
 present to behold them, would not regard 
 with the same feelings as his successor." 
 
 " Surely," said I, " the beneficent Tra- 
 jan will not stain the expression of his gra- 
 titude by any thing unworthy of himself, 
 or that could give displeasure to Nerva ?" 
 
 " Nay," replied the Centurion, " it is not 
 for me to talk about any thing that Trajan 
 chooses to do being unworthy of Trajan ; 
 but you well know that Nerva would never 
 suffer any of the Christians to be molested 
 
 12
 
 159 
 
 during his reign, and now here are some of 
 these unhappy fanatics, that are to be com- 
 pelled either to renounce their faith in the 
 face of the assembly to-morrow, or to die on 
 the arena. It is to inspect the condition of 
 these unfortunates, who, Iknow not for what 
 reason, are confined in a dungeon below the 
 ramparts in the vicinity of our camp, and 
 to announce to them the final determina- 
 tion of their fate, that I, as centurion of the 
 night, have now been summoned. If you 
 are curious to see the men, you are at li- 
 berty to go along with me, and I shall be 
 greatly obliged to you for your company, 
 to boot." 
 
 My curiosity having been considerably 
 excited in regard to the new faith and its 
 adherents, in consequence of certain cir- 
 cumstances, some of which I have already 
 narrated, I was very desirous to accept of 
 this offer. Nor did Sextus any sooner per- 
 ceive that such was my inclination, than he 
 advised me to gratify it, undertaking, at
 
 160 
 
 the same time, himself to go straight home- 
 wards, and satisfy his father, in case of any 
 inquiry, that I was in a place of safety, and 
 under the protection of Sabinus. With 
 him, therefore, and with his Praetorians, I 
 proceeded along various streets which led 
 us by the skirts of the Esquiline and Vi- 
 minal Hills, on to the region of the Mounds 
 of Tarquin, over against which, as you have 
 heard, the great camp of those bands is si- 
 tuated, — if indeed that ought of right to be 
 called by the name of a camp, which is it- 
 self a city of no slender dimensions, and 
 built with great splendour of architecture, 
 spread out beyond the limits of Rome, for 
 the accommodation of that proud soldiery. 
 There my friend took me into his own cham- 
 ber, and furnished me with a cloak and 
 helmet, that I might excite no suspicion 
 by accompanying him on his errand. The 
 watch-word of the night also was given 
 unto me, which, as I call to mind, was si- 
 lent faith ; and shortly issuing forth a se-
 
 161 
 
 cond time, we came to the gate of the 
 prison-house wherein the Christians were 
 lying. 
 
 Now, when we had entered into the 
 guard-room, we found it crowded with 
 spearmen of Sabinus's band, some of whom 
 were playing at dice, others carousing jo- 
 vially, and many wrapt up in their man- 
 tles, and asleep upon the floor; while a 
 few only were sitting beneath the porch, 
 with their spears in their hands, and lean- 
 ing upon their bucklers. From one of the 
 elder of these, the Centurion, after having 
 drawn him aside out of the company, made 
 inquiry straightway concerning the names 
 and condition of the prisoners, and whether 
 as yet they had received any intelligence of 
 that which was to come to pass on the mor- 
 row. The soldier, who was a grave man, 
 and well stricken in years, made answer, 
 " that of a surety the men were free-born 
 and of decent estate, and that he had not 
 heard of any thing else being laid to their 
 charge, excepting that which concerned
 
 162 
 
 their religion. Since they have been here," 
 he continued, " I have been several times 
 set on watch over them, and twice have I 
 lain with one of them in his dungeon ; yet 
 have I heard no complaints from any of 
 them, for in all things they are patient. One 
 of them only is to suffer to-morrow — but 
 for him I am especially concerned, for he 
 was known to me of old, having served of- 
 ten with me when I was a horseman in the 
 army of Titus, all through the war of Pa- 
 lestine, and at the siege of Jerusalem." 
 
 " And of what country is he ?" said Sa- 
 binus. " Is he also a Roman ?" 
 
 * No, sir," answered the spearman, " he 
 is no Roman ; but he was of a troop of the 
 allies that was joined oftentimes to our le- 
 gion, and I have seen him bear himself on 
 the day of battle as well as any Roman of 
 us all. He is by birth a Greek of the sea- 
 coast ; but his mother was of the nation of 
 the Jews, and he was brought up from his 
 youth according to their law." 
 
 " And yet, although the son of a Jewess,
 
 163 
 
 he was with us, say you, at the siege of 
 Jerusalem ?" 
 
 " Even so," replied the man ; u and not 
 he only, but many others ; for the Jews, 
 you know, were divided against themselves ; 
 and of all them that were Christians, it was 
 said, that not one abode in the city, or gave 
 help to defend it. For, as this man himself 
 hath sworn to me, the oracles of the Chris- 
 tians, and their prophets, had of old given 
 warning that the city must fall into the 
 hands of Cassar, by reason of the wicked- 
 ness of that people. Wherefore, when we 
 set our camp over against Jerusalem, these 
 men all passed out from the city, with their 
 wives and their children, and dwelt safely 
 in the mountainous country, until all things 
 were fulfilled. But some of these young 
 men fought in our camp, and did good ser- 
 vice, because the place was known to them, 
 and they had acquaintance with all the se- 
 crets of the Rock. Of these, this man was 
 one, He and all his household had depart-
 
 164 
 
 ed from the ancient religion of the Jews, 
 and were believers in the doctrines of the 
 Christians, for which cause he is to suffer 
 on the morrow ; and of that, although I 
 have not spoken to him this evening, 1 think 
 he has already received some intelligence, 
 for certain of his friends passed in to him, 
 and they covered their faces as they went 
 in, as if weeping." 
 
 " Are these friends still with him ?" said 
 Sabinus. 
 
 " Yes," answered he, " for I must have 
 seen them had they come forth again. 
 Without doubt, the two women are still 
 with him in his dungeon." 
 
 u Women ?" quoth Sabinus ; " and of 
 what condition think you they may be ?" 
 
 " That I know not," replied the soldier ; 
 " for, as I have said, they walked in muf- 
 fled in their mantles. But one of them, at 
 least, is a Boman, for I heard her speak 
 to him that is by the door of the dun- 
 geon."
 
 1-65 
 
 44 How long is it," said the Centurion, 
 " since they went into this prison ?" 
 
 " More than an hour," replied the sol- 
 dier, looking at the water-clock that stood 
 beneath the porch ; " and if they be Chris- 
 tians, they are not yet about to depart, for 
 they never separate without singing toge- 
 ther, which is their favourite manner of 
 worship." 
 
 He had scarcely uttered these words, 
 when the soldiers that were carousing with- 
 in the guard-room became silent, and we 
 heard the voices of those that were in the 
 dungeon singing together in a sweet and 
 lowly manner. 
 
 " Ah, sir!" said the old soldier, " I thought 
 it would be even so — there is not a spear- 
 man in the band that would not willingly 
 watch here a whole night, could he be sure 
 of hearing that melody. Well do I know 
 that soft voice — Hear now, how she sings 
 by herself — and there again, that deep strong 
 note— * that is the voice of the prisoner." 
 
 " Hush !" quoth the Centurion, " heard
 
 166 
 
 you ever any thing half so divine ? Are 
 these words Greek or Syrian ? 
 
 " What the words are I know not," said 
 the soldier ; " but I know the tune well — 
 I have heard it played many a night with 
 hautboy, and clarion, and dulcimer, on the 
 high walls of Jerusalem, while the old city 
 was beleaguered." 
 
 " It is some old Jewish tune then," said 
 Sabinus ; " I knew not those barbarians 
 had had half so much art." 
 
 « Why, as for that, sir," replied the man, 
 " I have been all over Greece and Egypt — 
 to say nothing of Italy — and I never heard 
 any music like that music of the Jews. 
 Why, when they came down to join the 
 battle, their trumpets sounded so glorious- 
 ly, that we wondered how it was possible 
 for them ever to be driven back ; and then, 
 when their gates were closed, and they sent 
 out to beg their dead, they would play such 
 solemn awful notes of lamentation, that the 
 plunderers stood still to listen, and their
 
 167 
 
 warriors were delivered to them with all 
 their mail as they had fallen." 
 
 " And the Christians also," said Sabinus, 
 " had the same tunes ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir — why, for that matter, these 
 very tunes may have been among them, for 
 aught we know, since the beginning of 
 their nation. I have stood centinel with 
 this very man, and seen the tears run down 
 his cheeks by the star-light, when he heard 
 the music from the city, as the Jewish cap- 
 tains were going their rounds upon the bat- 
 tlements." 
 
 u But this, surely," said the Centurion, 
 * is no warlike melody." 
 
 " I know not," quoth the old soldier, 
 " whether it be or not — but I am sure it 
 sounds not like any music of sorrow, — and 
 yet what plaintive tones are in the part of 
 that female voice !" 
 
 " The bass sounds triumphantly, in good 
 sooth." 
 
 " Ay, sir, but that is the old man's own 
 voice — I am sure he will keep a good heart
 
 168 
 
 to the end, even though they should be 
 singing their» farewell to him. Well, the 
 Emperor loses a good soldier, the hour old 
 Thraso dies. I wish to Jupiter he had not 
 been a Christian, or had kept his religion to 
 himself. But as for changing now — you 
 might as well think of persuading the Prince 
 himself to be a Jew, as talk to Thraso about 
 that." 
 
 " That last high strain, however," quoth 
 Sabinus, " has ended their singing. Let us 
 speak to the women as they come out ; and 
 if it be so that the man is already aware 
 of what is to be done to-morrow, I see not 
 why we should trouble him with entering 
 his cell. He has but a few hours to live, 
 and I would not willingly disturb him." 
 
 " I hear them coming," said the soldier. 
 
 " Then do you meet them," said Sabinus, 
 " and tell them that the Centurion wishes 
 to speak to them ere they go away — we 
 will retire some space, and talk to them out 
 of hearing of the guard,"
 
 169 
 
 With that he and I withdrew to the 
 other side of the way, over against the door 
 of the prison ; and we stood there waiting 
 for the women under a certain old fig-tree, 
 that grew close by the city wall. In a few 
 minutes two persons, arrayed even as the 
 soldier had described, drew near to us ; and 
 one of them, without uncovering her coun- 
 tenance, said, — " Master, we trust we have 
 done no evil in visiting the prisoners ; had 
 it been so, surely we should not have been 
 permitted to enter without question or dif- 
 ficulty proposed." 
 
 These words were spoken in a voice tre- 
 mulous and agitated, as if with grief rather 
 than with terror; but I could not help 
 starting when I heard them, for there were 
 one or two tones in the voice, that I thought 
 I could not be mistaken in believing I had 
 heard before ; however, I commanded my- 
 self, and heard in silence what Sabinus re- 
 plied to the women. 
 
 " Be not alarmed," said he ; " there is no 
 VOL. i. H
 
 170 
 
 offence committed, for no orders have been 
 issued to prevent these men from seeing 
 their friends* I sent for you, not to find 
 fault with what you have done, but only to 
 ask whether this prisoner has already been 
 told that the Emperor has announced his 
 resolution concerning him, and that he 
 must die to-morrow, in the Amphitheatre 
 of Vespasian, unless he renounce his super- 
 stition." 
 
 " He knows all," answered the same voice ; 
 i( and is prepared for all things but disho- 
 nour." 
 
 " By heavens ! Valerius," whispered Sa- 
 binus ; " it is no mean person that speaks 
 so — this is the voice and the gesture of a 
 Roman lady." Then raising his voice, " In 
 that case there is no need for my going 
 into the dungeon ; and yet, could I hope 
 to say any thing that might tend to make 
 him change his purpose, I would most 
 gladly do so. The Emperor is as humane 
 as he is just, and unless when rebellious ob-
 
 171 
 
 stinacy shuts the gates of mercy, he is the 
 last that would consent to the shedding of 
 any blood. — For this man, of whose history 
 I have just been hearing something, I am 
 in a particular manner interested, and to 
 save him, I wish only I had power equal to 
 my inclination. It is Thraso of whom I 
 speak — Is there no chance of convincing 
 him ?" 
 
 " He is already convinced," replied the 
 voice, " and no one can move him. Thraso 
 will die in honour, as he has lived in ho- 
 nour." 
 
 " Could his friends do nothing to bend 
 him ?" 
 
 " His friends have been with him alrea- 
 dy," said the voice, again becoming every 
 moment more clear and stedfast ; — " but 
 they were poor friends that would seek to 
 save the body of Thraso, at the expense ot 
 the soul of Thraso." 
 
 This last sentence was spoken so dis- 
 tinctly, that I knew I could no longer be
 
 172 
 
 mistaken ; and 1 was on the brink of speak- 
 ing out, without thinking of the conse- 
 quences that might possibly occur, when 
 she that had spoken, after appearing to re- 
 gard me steadily through her veil, uttered 
 a faint cry, and dropping on her knees be- 
 fore Sabinus, said, — " Oh, sir ! to us also be 
 merciful, and let us go hence ere any one 
 behold us !" 
 
 " Go in peace, lad}%" answered the Cen- 
 turion, " and henceforth be prudent as well 
 as kind ;" and they went away from us, 
 and were soon lost to our sight in the wind- 
 ings of the street. We stood there for 
 some moments in silence, looking towards 
 the place where they disappeared. " Strange 
 superstition," said Sabinus ; " what heroism 
 dwells with this madness !— you see how lit- 
 tle these men regard their lives; — nay, even 
 women, and Roman women too — you see 
 how their nature is changed by it." 
 
 " It is, indeed, a most strange spectacle," 
 said I ; " but what is to be the errd of it, if
 
 173 
 
 this spirit become diffused widely among 
 the people ?" 
 
 " In truth I know not," answered the 
 Centurion ; " but many have already died 
 from this cause, and yet we have heard of 
 none who had once embraced this faith, re- 
 nouncing it out of fear for their lives." 
 
 " And in the days of Nero and Domi- 
 tian," said I, " were not many hundreds 
 of them punished even here in the capi- 
 tal ?" * 
 
 " You are far, very far within the mark, 
 Valerius," said he, " when you speak of 
 hundreds ; and not a few of those that were 
 sent into exile in those days, because of 
 their Christianity, were, as you may have 
 heard, of no ordinary condition. Among 
 these there were Flavins Clemens, the 
 Consular, and his wife Domitilla ; both of 
 whom I have often seen in my youth — 
 both relations to the family of Vespasian — 
 whom, notwithstanding, all the splendour 
 of the imperial blood could not save from
 
 174 
 
 the common fate of their sect. But Nerva 
 suffered all of them to live in peace, and 
 recalled such as were in exile, excepting 
 only Domitilla, whose fate has been regret- 
 ted by all men ; but I suppose it was not 
 at first judged safe to recall her, lest any 
 tumult should have been excited in her 
 name, by those that regretted (and I am 
 sorry to say these were not a few,) the 
 wicked licence of which they had been de- 
 prived by the death of her tyrannical kins- 
 man, and the transition of the imperial 
 dignity into another line. She also with 
 whom we have been speaking, is, I am 
 sure, a Roman lady of condition ; and you 
 may judge of her zeal, when you see that 
 it brings her hither at midnight, to mingle 
 tears and prayers with those of an old le- 
 gionary, such as this Thraso. Did you ob- 
 serve, that the other female both walked 
 and stood behind her. You may depend 
 upon it that was her slave, or freed wo* 
 man."
 
 175 
 
 * I observed all this," answered I. But 
 little did Sabinus suspect that I had obser- 
 ved so much more than himself had done. 
 Little did he know with what emotions I 
 had listened to all that had been said. He 
 had never seen Athanasia, nor could he 
 read my secret thoughts, to understand 
 with what feelings I had learned that 
 Athanasia was a Christian. Before part- 
 ing from him, I said I should still be gra- 
 tified with being permitted to see Thraso ; 
 and although he declined entering himself, 
 he accordingly gave command that the door 
 of his dungeon should be opened for me, 
 requesting me, at the same time, to refrain 
 from saying any thing more to the man 
 than was necessary for explaining the ap- 
 parent purpose of my visit — the commu- 
 nication, namely, of the fate that was re- 
 served for him and his companions on the 
 morrow. 
 
 So saying, the Centurion withdrew to 
 the camp ; and the same old spearman with
 
 176 
 
 whom we had conversed at the Porch, car- 
 ried a torch in his hand, and shewed me 
 the way into the dungeon of the prisoner.
 
 177 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Between the first door, whereof the sol- 
 dier relaxed the heavy bolts, and the se- 
 cond, which appeared to be almost entirely 
 formed of iron, there intervened a short 
 space, which was occupied by a few broad 
 steps of old and very massive mason-work ; 
 and upon the lowest of these steps, I stood 
 waiting till he should open the second door. 
 It was some time before he accomplished 
 this, for several keys were applied before he 
 discovered the right one; but at last the lock 
 turned, and the heavy door swung away 
 from before him so speedily, that the air, 
 rushing out of the vault, extinguished in a 
 moment the flame of the torch ; insomuch, 
 H 2
 
 178 
 
 that we had no light excepting that which 
 streamed from an aperture high up in the 
 wall of the dungeon itself; a feeble ray of 
 star-light alone — for the moon had, long ere 
 this time, been gone down — which, never- 
 theless, sufficed to shew us to the prisoner, 
 although we at first could see nothing of 
 him. 
 
 " Soldiers," said the old man, in a voice 
 of perfect calmness, " for what reason are 
 you come ?" 
 
 " We come," said my companion, " by 
 command of the Centurion, to inform you 
 of things which we would willingly not 
 have to tell — to-morrow Trajan opens the 
 Amphitheatre of Vespasian." 
 
 " My old comrade," said the prisoner, in- 
 terrupting him, " is it your voice I hear ? 
 I know all this already ; and you know of 
 old that I fear not the face of death." 
 
 " Alas ! Thraso, I know well you fear not 
 death ; yet why, when there is no need, 
 should you cast away life ? Think well, I
 
 179 
 
 beseech you, and reserve yourself for a bet- 
 ter day." 
 
 " The dawn of that better day, Romans, 
 already begins to open upon my eyes. I see 
 the east red with the promise of its bright- 
 ness. Would you have me tarry in dark- 
 ness, when I am invited to walk forth into 
 the light ?" 
 
 " Thraso, your words rejoice me," an- 
 swered the spearman ; " and I am sure all 
 will rejoice in hearing that you have at 
 length come to think thus — Trajan himself 
 will rejoice. You have but to say the word, 
 and you are free." 
 
 u You mean kindly," said the old man, 
 rising from his pallet, and walking towards 
 us as far as his fetters permitted ; " you 
 mean kindly, therefore I blame you not. 
 But you are much mistaken — I have but 
 to keep silence, and I am free," 
 
 " Alas ! Thraso, what mean you ? Do 
 you know what you say ? You must wor- 
 ship the gods in the morning, else you die." 
 " Evening and morning, and for ever, I
 
 180 
 
 must worship the God that made heaven 
 and earth. If I bow down to the idols of 
 Trajan, I buy the life of a day at the price 
 of death everlasting. Tempt me not in 
 your kindness : I fell once. Great God, pre- 
 serve me from falling ! I have bid farewell 
 to my friends already. Leave me to spend 
 these few hours by myself. — Leave me to 
 prepare the flesh for that from which the 
 spirit shrinks not." So saying, he extend- 
 ed his hand to the spearman, and the two 
 old men embraced each other tenderly be- 
 fore me. 
 
 " Prisoner," said I, " if there be any thing 
 in which we can serve you, command our 
 aid : We have already done our duty to the 
 Centurion ; if, without transgressing that, 
 we can do any thing that may give ease to 
 your mind now, or, after you are gone, com- 
 fort to your kindred, you have but to 
 speak." 
 
 " Sir," replied he, * I see by the eagle 
 wings on your helmet, that you are one in 
 authority, and 1 hear by your voice that you
 
 181 
 
 are young. There is a certain thing, con- 
 cerning which I had some purpose to speak 
 to this my old brother-in-arms ; but if I 
 may rely on that which you have said, 
 without question, your power is greater to 
 execute that which I desire." 
 
 " Speak with confidence," said I ; " al- 
 though I am a Roman, and bear all loyalty 
 to the prince, yet this Praetorian helmet is 
 not mine, and I have but assumed it for the 
 sake of having access to your prison. I am 
 no soldier of Trajan : Whatever I can do for 
 you without harm to others, speak, and I 
 will do it. I will swear to you " 
 
 * Nay, sir," said he, " swear not — mock 
 not the God of heaven, by invoking idol or 
 demon — I believe your word — but there 
 is no need why any other should be wit- 
 ness to my request." 
 
 " I will retire," said the spearman, " and 
 keep watch at the door ; surely there is no 
 need for me to say that whatever I might 
 hear should be safe within me. — But I am 
 no more than a poor spearman, and this
 
 182 
 
 young patrician can do much more than I. 
 Let him alone hear, and execute your com- 
 mands." 
 
 u Be it so," said the prisoner, a second 
 time embracing him ; '* I would not will- 
 ingly expose you to any needless danger ; 
 and yet I see not what danger there is in 
 all that 1 have to ask." 
 
 With this the old spearman withdrew ; 
 and being left alone with Thraso, I took 
 his hand, and sitting down beside him on 
 his pallet, shortly explained to him the cir- 
 cumstances under which I had come thi- 
 ther. 
 
 * Young sir," said he, " I know not what 
 is about the sound of your voice, and the 
 frankness of your demeanour, that makes 
 me feel confidence enough to entrust you 
 with a certain thing, which concerns not 
 myself, nor any hope of mine, for that were 
 little — but the interests of one that is far 
 dearer to me than I can express, and who, 
 I hope, will live many happy days upon 
 earth, after I shall have sealed my belief in
 
 183 
 
 the message of God, by blood that has of 
 old been exposed a thousand times to all 
 mortal perils, for the sake of things where- 
 of I have long perceived the worthlessness. 
 But a very short while ago, and I might 
 have executed this thing for myself; but 
 weakness overcame me at the moment of 
 parting, and I forgot till it was too late." 
 
 " If it be any thing which you would 
 have me convey to any one, say where I 
 may find the person," said I, " and be as- 
 sured I shall deliver it in safety." 
 
 < ( Sir," he proceeded, " it is even so — I 
 have here with me certain writings, which 
 I have carried for these twenty years con- 
 tinually in my bosom. Among these, is one 
 of the sacred books of the faith for which I 
 am to die, and I would fain have it placed in 
 the hands of one to whom I know it will be 
 dearest of all, for the sake of that which it 
 contains ; but, I hope, dear also for the sake 
 of him that bequeaths it. Will you seek 
 out a certain Roman lady, and undertake
 
 184 
 
 to give into her own hands, in secret, the 
 scroll, which I shall give you ?" 
 
 " I will do my endeavour," said I ; " and 
 if I cannot find means to execute your com- 
 mand, I shall destroy the book with my 
 own hands before I quit Rome — for my 
 stay here is uncertain." 
 
 " If you cannot find means to do what I 
 ask safely," he replied, " I do not bid you 
 destroy the book — that is yours to dowithas 
 it shall seem good to you — but I conjure 
 you to read it before you throw it away. 
 Nay, even as it is, I conjure you to read it 
 before you seek to give it to her whose 
 name I shall mention." 
 
 " Old man," said I, " almost I believe 
 that I already know her name, and more 
 besides. If it be so that I have conjectured 
 aright, be assured that all you ask shall be 
 fulfilled to the letter ; be assured also, that 
 I would die with you to-morrow, rather 
 than live to be the cause or instrument of 
 any evil thing to her that but now visited 
 you in your dungeon."
 
 185 
 
 " Alas !" cried the old man, starting up, 
 " lay not this also, Oh Lord ! upon my head. 
 Let the old bear witness — but let the young 
 be spared, to serve thee in happier years 
 upon the earth !" 
 
 " Be not afraid," said I, " if it was Atha- 
 nasia, no one suspected it but myself; and 
 I have already told you that I would die 
 rather than bring evil upon her head." 
 
 " Yes," he answered, after a pause — " it 
 was, indeed, Athanasia.— Yes, young man, 
 who is it but she that would have left the 
 halls of nobles, and the couches of peace, to 
 breathe at midnight the air of a dungeon, 
 that she might solace the last moments of a 
 poor man, and, save the bond of Christ, of a 
 stranger ! But if you have known her be- 
 fore, and spoken with her before, then surely 
 she must indeed be safe in your hands. You 
 know where she dwells — that I my self know 
 not. — Here is the scroll, from which that 
 noble maiden has heard my humble voice 
 essay to expound the words of eternal life. 
 I charge you to approach her with reve-
 
 186 
 
 rence, and give into her own hands my dy- 
 ing bequest ; yet, as I have said, deliver it 
 not to her till you have yourself read what 
 it contains." 
 
 " Christian," said I, placing the writing in 
 my bosom, " have no fear — I will read your 
 book, and ere two nights have gone over 
 my head, I shall find means to place it in 
 the hands of Athanasia; and now, farewell." 
 
 " Nay, not yet, for the last time. Will 
 you not come in the morning, and behold 
 the death of a Christian ?" 
 
 " Alas !" said I, " what will it avail that 
 I should torture myself with looking on the 
 shedding of your blood ? The prince may 
 have reason to regard you as an offender 
 against the state ; but I have spoken with 
 you in your solitude, and I know that your 
 heart is noble. Would to heaven, that by 
 going thither I could avert your fate ! but 
 that is in your own hands, and though die 
 you will, why should I see you die ?" 
 
 " Methinks, sir," he replied, <f it may be 
 weakness ; but yet methinks it would give
 
 187 
 
 me some farther comfort in my death, to 
 know that there was at least one Roman 
 there, who would not see me die without 
 pity ; and besides I must have you con- 
 strain yourself, that you maybe able to carry 
 the tidings of my departure to her of whom 
 we have spoken. Her prayers will be with 
 me, but not her eyes. You must tell Atha- 
 nasia the manner of my death." 
 
 <f For that cause," said I, " I will con- 
 strain myself, and be present in the Amphi- 
 theatre." 
 
 " Then, farewell," said he ; " and 
 
 yet go not. In whatsoever faith you live, — 
 in whatsoever faith you die, the blessing of 
 an old man and a Christian can do you no 
 harm." So saying, the old man stood up, 
 and leaning his hand on my head as I sat, 
 pronounced over me a blessing which I 
 never shall forget. i( The Lord bless thee 
 -—the Lord enlighten thy darkness — the 
 Lord plant his seed in thy kind heart — the 
 Lord give thee also to die the death of a 
 Christian !"
 
 188 
 
 When he had said so, he sat down again ; 
 and I departed greatly oppressed in spirit, 
 yet feeling, I know not how or why, as I 
 would rather have lost many merry days, 
 than that dark and sorrowful hour in the 
 prison of this old man. The soldiers in 
 the guard-room were so much engaged in 
 their different occupations, that they heeded 
 me not as I stept silently to the gate ; and 
 I was soon out of sight of their flaming 
 watch-fires, and far from the sounds of that 
 noisy mirth of theirs, which contrasted so 
 strangely with the mournful silence of the 
 dungeon I had quitted. 
 
 There was something in the total silence 
 of the proud Roman streets — in their dreary 
 and heavy desertedness — that accorded far 
 better with the feelings of my mind as I 
 walked along ; and I ruminated on all that 
 I had seen and heard, without being dis- 
 turbed by any sight or sound of life, or the 
 excitation of life. Wherever there is sha- 
 dow, there is also brightness ; but the uni- 
 form face of the grey twilight admits of no
 
 189 
 
 bold contrasts of the deep and the dazzling ; 
 and it is then that the mind also can best 
 array itself in the calm sobriety of contem- 
 plation. It was not, indeed, the first time 
 that I had thought of death ; but it was 
 the first time that I had been in the pre- 
 sence of a human being, foreseeing distinct- 
 ly, and quietly awaiting, the termination of 
 his mortal existence, and I could not help 
 asking of myself, with a certain fearful an- 
 xiety, how, under similar circumstances of 
 terror, I should have myself been able to 
 sustain my spirits ? — to what resources I 
 should, in such a moment, look for the sup- 
 port, which seemed to have been vouch- 
 safed so abundantly to this old man ; by 
 what charm, in fine, — by what tenet of phi- 
 losophy, or by what hope of religion, — I 
 should, in the midst of life, be able to recon- 
 cile myself to a voluntary embrace of death ? 
 To avoid disgrace, indeed, and dishonour, 
 said I, I think I could be Roman enough 
 to dare the worst ; but this poor man is 
 willing to die, rather than acknowledge, by
 
 190 
 
 one offering on the altar, the deities in 
 whose worship all his Greek ancestors have 
 been trained ; yet who, except perhaps a 
 few obscure individuals that have adopt- 
 ed the same new superstition, would think 
 this man dishonoured by returning to the 
 religion of his fathers ? Deep indeed must 
 be his conviction of the truth of that which 
 he professes to believe, — serious indeed 
 must be his faith, and high his trust. I 
 could not help sometimes thinking to my- 
 self, what if, after all, his faith should be 
 true, and his trust wise ? The thoughts of 
 the gentle Athanasia, too, were not unmin* 
 gled with my meditations concerning the 
 heroic demeanour of Thraso ; and I felt 
 within myself some obscure presentiment, 
 that from her lips I should yet receive ex- 
 planation of all, which at that moment ap- 
 peared to me to be so much enveloped in 
 mystery. 
 
 Musing and meditating thus, it was no 
 wonder that I, who knew so little of Rome, 
 should have soon wanderedfrom the straight
 
 191 
 
 way to the home of my kinsman. In truth, 
 but that I at last caught at the turning of 
 a street a glimpse of the Flavian Amphi- 
 theatre, which I had before passed on my 
 way from the feast of Rubellia — and of 
 which I had been hearing and thinking so 
 much during my visit to the quarters of 
 the Praetorians — I might, perhaps, have 
 been long enough of discovering where- 
 abouts I was. I had a pretty accurate no- 
 tion of the way from that grand edifice to 
 the house of Licinius, and therefore moved 
 towards it immediately, intending to pass 
 straight down from thence into the Sacred 
 Way. But when I came close to the Am- 
 phitheatre, I found that, surrounded on all 
 sides by a city of sleep and silence, that re- 
 gion was already filled with all manner of 
 noise and tumult, in consequence of the 
 preparations which had begun to be made 
 for the spectacles of the succeeding day. 
 The east was just beginning to be streaked 
 with the first faint blushes of morning ; but
 
 192 
 
 the torches and innumerable lanterns, in the 
 hands of the different workmen and artifi- 
 cers employed there, threw more light than 
 was sufficient to give me an idea of all that 
 was going forwards. On one side, the whole 
 way was blocked up with a countless throng 
 of waggons ; the conductors of which, al- 
 most all of them Ethiopians and Numidi- 
 ans, were lashing each others horses, and 
 exchanging, in their barbarous tongues, 
 violent outcries of, I doubt not, more bar- 
 barous wrath and execration. The fear- 
 ful bellowings that resounded from any of 
 the waggons, which happened to be set in 
 motion amidst the choaking' throng, inti- 
 mated that savage beasts were confined 
 within them ; and when I had discovered 
 this, and then regarded the prodigious mul- 
 titude of the waggons, I cannot say what 
 horror came over me at thinking what cruel 
 sights, and how lavish in cruelty, were be- 
 come the favourite pastimes of the most 
 refined of peoples. I recognized the well-
 
 193 
 
 known short deep snort of the wild boar, 
 and the long hollow bark of the wolf; but 
 a thousand fierce sounds, mingled with 
 these, were equally new and terrific to my 
 ears. One voice, however, was so grand in 
 its notes of sullen rage, that I could not 
 help asking a soldier, who sate on horseback 
 near me, from what wild beast it proceed- 
 ed. The man answered, that it was a Lion ; 
 but then what laughter arose among some 
 of the rabble, that had overheard my inter- 
 rogation; and what contemptuous looks 
 were thrown upon me by the naked ne- 
 groes, who sate grinning in the torch-light, 
 on the tops of their carriages ! Then one 
 or two of the soldiers would be compelled to 
 ride into the midst of the confusion, to sepa- 
 rate some of these wretches, fighting with 
 their whips about precedence in the ap- 
 proaching entrance to the Amphitheatre ; 
 and then it seemed to me that the horses 
 could not away with the strong sickly smell 
 of some of the beasts that were carried there, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 194 
 
 for they would prance, and caper, and rear 
 on end, and snort as if panic- struck, and dart 
 themselves towards the other side; while 
 some of the riders were thrown off in the 
 midst of the tumult, and others, with fierce 
 and strong bits, compelled the frightened or 
 infuriated animals to endure the thing they 
 abhorred — in their wrath and pride forcing 
 them even nearer than was necessary to the 
 hated waggons. In another quarter, this 
 close-mingled pile of carts and horses was 
 surmounted by the enormous heads of ele- 
 phants, thrust high up into the air, some 
 of them with their huge lithe trunks lash- 
 ing and beating (for they too, as you have 
 heard, would rather die than snuff in the 
 breath of these monsters of the woods,) 
 while the tiara'd heads of their leaders would 
 be seen tossed to and fro by the contortions 
 of those high necks, whereon for the most 
 part they had their sitting-places. There was 
 such a cry of cursing, and such a sound of 
 whips and cords, and such blowing of horns,
 
 195 
 
 and whistling and screaming ; and all this 
 mixed with such roaring, and bellowing, 
 and howling from the savage creatures with- 
 in the caged waggons, that I stood, as it 
 were, aghast and terrified, by reason of the 
 tumult that was round about me. 
 
 I went in, however, for a moment, to the 
 Amphitheatre itself, by a little side- way, ad- 
 mission to which was afforded to me in re- 
 turn for a few pence. Here, as yet, all things 
 were in order, for the hour had not yet come 
 for giving the wild beasts entrance to the se- 
 veral huge dens, or cages, prepared for them 
 along one side of the arena. A few carpen- 
 ters only were seen in one corner, erecting 
 a sort of low stage, and singing merrily at 
 their work, of whom I made inquiry con- 
 cerning the purpose of that which they 
 were setting up ; whereupon one of these 
 fellows also began to jeer and to laugh, say- 
 ing, — " Whence come you, good sir, that 
 you do not know a common scaffold when 
 you see it? It is surely not the first time that
 
 196 
 
 a Christian has had his head chopped off in 
 this Amphitheatre ?" 
 
 " By Pluto, I am not so sure about that 
 matter," quoth another. " I don't know 
 whether any of the dogs were ever behead- 
 ed here or not ; if they have been, I can 
 only say it was better than they deser- 
 ved." 
 
 " There spoke a true man," cries a third. 
 " I say with the old Flavian, boys, that be- 
 heading is too pretty a death for a Jew, any 
 day of the year. No, no ; keep beheading 
 for Romans — let citizens have their own. 
 Things are come to a pretty pass now-a- 
 days, when they shew us nothing but lions 
 against lions, and tigers against tigers. By 
 Jove, I would rather see one of those mis- 
 believing Atheists set right before themouth 
 of a true Getulian lion's cage, and hear his 
 bones cracked ere all be over, — I say, I 
 would rather see that, than fifty of your 
 mere beast fights." 
 
 " After all," rejoined the first, " it must
 
 197 
 
 be allowed that Domitian had a fine eye for 
 the Amphitheatre." 
 
 "Who doubts it ?" says the other. " Rome 
 has never seen any thing that deserved to 
 be called a show, since he was killed by that 
 low pack of sneaking traitors. They say, 
 Nero was still better at that sort of work ; 
 but * let the skinless Jew believe,' as the 
 saying is ; — seeing is believing with me. I 
 desire to see no better sport than poor Domi- 
 tian gave us the very week before his death. 
 We shall never live to see his like again !" 
 
 " Come, boys," rejoins one of the rest ; 
 " don't speak so despairingly neither. I had 
 begun to think that these good princes, as 
 they call them, would never shew us a bit 
 of real sport again at all. Now, this is at 
 least something. Slowly and surely, as they 
 say. Who can tell what may follow ? and, 
 besides, if the worst come to the worst, we 
 shall still have lions against lions, tigers 
 against tigers, Dacians against Dacians, and 
 now and then a Jew or a Christian, or
 
 198 
 
 whatever you please to call him, exhibited 
 solus on such a stage as this. Come, come, 
 dont make matters worse than they are." 
 
 The coarse laughter of these men, and 
 the cold heartlessness of their discourse, 
 sickened my very soul; and I remember, 
 as if it were but yesterday, the loathing 
 with which I turned from them. The filthy 
 ruffians shewed that they knew well enough 
 I was displeased with them, and 1 half re- 
 gretted, as I strode away from them, the 
 want of that Preetorian helmet, which I well 
 knew would have effectually preserved me 
 from the insolence of their mirth. How- 
 beit, I was too well pleased to gain a dis- 
 tance at which I could no longer be trou- 
 bled with them, and walked with rapid 
 steps along the wide streets, over the' tall 
 buildings of which the light of the morn- 
 ing was now beginning to shine red and 
 broad ; while the air, being agitated with 
 a quick and strong breeze, refreshed my 
 cheeks and temples as I moved onwards ;
 
 199 
 
 whereof, indeed, I had need, being heated 
 with the glare and noise from which I 
 had escaped, and faint withal, after the 
 manner of the young, from the want of 
 sleep.
 
 200 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 I was admitted into the house by Dro- 
 mo, who seemed to have been looking out 
 for me ; for he opened the door almost be- 
 fore I had time to knock at it. He regard- 
 ed me as I entered with a very cunning 
 face ; insomuch, that I comprehended with- 
 out difficulty, he believed me to have spent 
 the night in some scene of debauch ; but 
 he, nevertheless, attended me, without say- 
 ing a word, into my chamber. He then 
 assumed a countenance of great reflection, 
 and advised me, with much appearance of 
 friendly concern, to go to bed, even although 
 I could not stay long there ; " because," 
 said he, " you will feel much fresher when 
 you get up ; and let me tell you, you must
 
 201 
 
 be up early, for I have already been with 
 Licinius, who intends to send Sextus with 
 a present to the fair Lady Rubellia imme- 
 diately after breakfast ; and you may be 
 sure Sextus will insist on your company, 
 for he can do nothing without you. Ah ! 
 had it not been for a certain pretty crea- 
 ture that I could name, the young gentle- 
 man would not, I am confident, have per- 
 mitted you to be going the rounds in this 
 way by yourself. But I take it something 
 amiss, and shall tell him so, that he did not 
 depute me (who am not particularly ena- 
 moured of any young lady just at present,) 
 to go with you, and take care of your safe- 
 ty. I only wonder how you have got home 
 so well, as it is." 
 
 " Indeed," said I, " good Dromo, I can- 
 not help wondering a little at that part of 
 it myself — for I have been all through the 
 city, and lost my way half-a-dozen times 
 over, and yet here you see I am." 
 
 " The more reason," quoth the slave, 
 " that you should send some nice little of- 
 i 2
 
 202 
 
 fering to Mercury's Temple over the way, 
 in the morning — a few sesterces will be 
 quite handsome — and if you have no objec- 
 tions, I shall willingly take care of them for 
 you. Mercury, as all men will tell you, is 
 the great guardian of all that travel about 
 in the dark ; and besides, he is himself the 
 patron of all love expeditions. But to say 
 the truth, you are not the only person that 
 owes a gift to that shrine ; for the worthy 
 sage — Xerophrastes — he, too, has been a 
 night-traveller as well as you — and he has 
 not yet come in. I have my doubts whe- 
 ther, when he does so, he will be as sober 
 as you are — but I must take care to be at 
 my post, and admit him in silence, for the 
 time is not yet come to blow his private do- 
 ings. Trust me, this is not the only vaga- 
 ry I have set down to his account — all in 
 good time — all in good time. — But what 
 says my master Valerius, touching the of- 
 fering to the great God Hermes ?" 
 
 I saw, by the expression of the knave's 
 face, that it was necessary the sestdrces
 
 203 
 
 should be forthcoming ; though I had my 
 doubts whether he would have been satis- 
 fied with seeing them entrusted to any- 
 other hands than his own. 
 
 " Here they are," said I, " my good Dro- 
 mo ; and remember, that although Mer- 
 cury, among other things, is the god of 
 thieves also, he will not be well pleased if 
 you curtail his offering." 
 
 " Never mind" — answered the varlet, as 
 he was shuffling out of the room — " never 
 mind — Mercury and I understand each 
 other of old. — Go you to bed, and try to get 
 a little of your own old British red into 
 your cheeks again ; forLicinius has a hawk's 
 eye, and will be sure to have his suspicions, 
 if he see you come down with such a hagard 
 woe-begone look as you wear just at present. 
 You must remember you have not a long 
 beard to cover half your face, and all your 
 iniquities, like the venerable Xerophrastes." 
 
 So saying, he left me to my couch, in- 
 deed, but not to slumber ; for busy thoughts
 
 204 
 
 kept me broad awake, till, after the lapse 
 of perhaps an hour, young Sextus entered 
 my apartment, already arrayed with more 
 than usual elegance, to execute, however 
 unwillingly, the message of his father. He 
 had in his hand a small casket of open ivo- 
 ry-work, which he flung down on my bed, 
 saying, " Get up, my dear Valerius, and 
 save me at least from the pain of going 
 alone, with these gewgaws, to this rich lady. 
 Would to Heaven my father would marry 
 her himself, and then I should have no ob- 
 jection to carry as many caskets for him as 
 he pleases. But do you get up and assist 
 me ; and as we go along, you shall tell me 
 what you have seen and heard in company 
 with your jovial Praetorian." 
 
 I was soon ready, and ascended, along 
 with my young friend, a splendid chariot, 
 which Licinius had commanded to be ready 
 for our conveyance. I told him shortly, as 
 we glided through the streets, as much as 
 I judged it expedient to be made known 
 concerning the events of the preceding
 
 205 
 
 night ; and, in particular, when I perceived 
 that our charioteer was making a long cir- 
 cuit, in order to avoid the neighbourhood of 
 the Amphitheatre of Vespasian, I could not 
 help expressing to him the effect which had 
 been produced in my mind, by my casual 
 inspection of the preparations made there- 
 in for the festival of the day. 
 
 " I am afraid," said he, after hearing my 
 story, " that if such have been your feel- 
 ings, in seeing some of the preparations 
 alone, you will scarcely be willing to wit- 
 ness the exhibition itself ; and yet I wpuld 
 fain have you to overcome your aversion, 
 both because, whatever you may think of 
 the propriety or impropriety of such things, 
 it is not fitting that you should go away 
 from Rome without once, at least, seeing 
 with your own eyes how they are actually 
 conducted ; and more particularly, because 
 I much suspect Rubellia intends to be pre- 
 sent at the festival — in which case I should 
 be sorry to be compelled to attend upon
 
 206 
 
 her without you ; and as to leaving her at 
 the gate of the Amphitheatre, that, you 
 know, would be quite impossible, unless I 
 wished openly to contradict the wishes of 
 my father." 
 
 I did not think it fitting to inform young 
 Sextus of the promise under which I had 
 already come, to be present at this great 
 show, for purposes very different from those 
 of paying attention to Rubellia, or shield- 
 ing him from the necessity of spending a 
 whole morning alone with her ; but to set 
 his mind at rest, I assured him he should 
 not want any comfort my presence could 
 afford him ; although not without, at the 
 same time, expressing my astonishment that 
 he should consider it at all probable a lady 
 so delicate as Rubellia would choose to sit 
 among the spectators of an exhibition, so 
 abounding in circumstances of cruelty. 
 
 " Nay, nay," answered he, " as for that 
 matter, there is scarcely a lady in Rome 
 that would be more scrupulous on that head
 
 207 
 
 than my gay widow ; and, to tell you the 
 truth, one of the things that makes me most 
 unwilling to go myself, is the fear that Sem- 
 pronia also may be there ; and, perhaps, 
 when she sees me with Rubellia, give cre- 
 dence to some of the reports which have 
 been circulated (not without my father's 
 assent, I think, if all were known,) concern- 
 ing this odious marriage, which I swear to 
 you shall' never take place, although Lici- 
 nius were to drive me from his door, and 
 adopt a stranger in room of me." 
 
 " In good truth, Sextus," I made answer, 
 " if Sempronia thinks there is any thing se- 
 rious between the widow and you, she must 
 think you a pretty rascal, for the violent 
 love you made to herself the whole of the 
 day we were at the Villa. But I am sure 
 she will easily perceive, by your counte- 
 nance, that you do not regard Rubellia, 
 handsome as she is, with any extraordinary 
 admiration ; whereas — if you were not con- 
 scious of it, I am sure she must have been 
 so — there was never a face of more passion-
 
 208 
 
 ate love than yours, all the time you were 
 in her company. And even now, the very 
 mention of her name calls a glow into your 
 cheeks, — yes, and even into your eyes, — 
 that I think would ^flatter Rubellia, could 
 she excite such another, more than all the 
 jewels of all the caskets your father will 
 ever send to her." 
 
 " Distract me not, Oh Valerius 1" said 
 the youth, interrupting me — " distract me 
 not with speaking of that too lovely, and, 
 I fear, too scornful girl. Do you not per- 
 ceive that we have at last struck into the 
 Suburra, and are quite near to Rubellia's 
 house ?" 
 
 " Indeed and so we are," said I, looking 
 out of the carriage. " I suspect you are 
 quite right in thinking she means to be 
 present at the Amphitheatre, for there is a 
 crowd, see you, of urchins, assembled all 
 about her gate, and I perceive it is a bril- 
 liant groupe of equipages that has attracted 
 them. Of a surety, she proposes to go thi- 
 ther in all her splendour."
 
 209 
 
 " Good Heavens !" replied he, "I believe 
 all the world is to be there. I don't remem- 
 ber ever to have passed so many gay cha- 
 riots in my life ; and as for the rabble, see 
 what a stream of heads continues pouring 
 down out of every alley along the street. 
 My only hope is, that Rubellia may arrive 
 too late for the best situations, and perhaps 
 disdain to witness the spectacle from any 
 inferior part of the Amphitheatre ; and yet 
 she must have interest, no doubt, to have 
 secured herself good accommodation before* 
 hand." 
 
 He had scarcely said so when our chariot 
 stopped, and we just descended from it in 
 time to meet Rubellia stepping down from 
 her portico with a gay cluster of attendants 
 all about her. On seeing us, however, she 
 immediately beckoned with her finger, and 
 said, " Oh ! are you come at last ? Well, 
 I must take Valerius along with myself, for 
 I insist upon it, that I shall be better able 
 to point out to him what is worthy of his 
 notice, than any one of my company ; and
 
 210 
 
 you, Sextus Licinius, come you also into 
 my chariot — we will not separate you from 
 your Orestes." She said so with an air of 
 sprightly ease and indifference, and imme- 
 diately sprung into the carriage. An elder- 
 ly lady, with a broad merry face, went into 
 it also, but there was still room for Sextus 
 and myself ; and as for the rest of the party, 
 they followed us in the other carriages that 
 were waiting behind that of Rubellia. 
 
 The crowds by this time had accumula- 
 ted in the street to such an extent, that our 
 horses could not advance otherwise than at 
 a very leisurely pace ; but the noise of the 
 multitude as they rushed along, and the tu- 
 mult of expectation visible on every coun- 
 tenance, prevented us from thinking of any 
 thing but the approaching festival. The 
 variety, however, and great splendour of 
 the equipages around us, Could not but at- 
 tract some portion of my attention. Now 
 it was an open chariot, it may be, drawn by 
 three or four milk-white Thessalian horses 
 abreast, in which reclined some gorgeous
 
 211 
 
 female, blazing all over with jewellery, with 
 a cluster of beautiful boys or girls around 
 her, administering odours to her nostril ; 
 and perhaps some haughty Knight or Sena- 
 tor now and then offering the more pre- 
 cious refreshment of his flattery to her ear. 
 Then, perhaps, would come rumbling along, 
 a close clumsy waggon, of the old-fashioned 
 matronly sort, stuck quite full of the mem- 
 bers of some substantial plebeian family— 
 the fat, comfortable-looking citizen, and his 
 demure spouse, sitting well back on their 
 cushions, and having their knees loaded 
 with a joyous and exulting progeny of little 
 lads and lasses, whose faces would, every 
 now and then, be thrust half-out of the win- 
 dow, in spite of the frown of the father and 
 the mother's tugging at their skirts. And 
 then, again, there might be heard a cry of 
 " Place, place," and a groupe of lictors 
 would be discovered, shoving every body 
 aside with their rods, to clear the passage 
 before the litter of some dignified magi- 
 strate, who, from pride or gout, preferred
 
 212 
 
 that species of motion to the jolting of a 
 chariot. Such a portly person as this would 
 soon be hurried past us, in virtue of the ob- 
 sequience enforced by his attendants, but 
 not before we had time to observe the rich- 
 ness of the silken cushions on which he lay 
 extended, and the sweetness of the cloud 
 of perfumes that was hovering about him, or 
 yet the air of majesty with which he submit- 
 ted himself to the fan of the favoured freed- 
 man, whose business it was to keep those 
 authoritative cheeks free from the contami- 
 nation of common plebeian dust and flies. 
 Anon, a jolly band of young gallants, on 
 horseback, would come pushing rapidly 
 along, to not a few of whom the fair Ru- 
 bellia would vouchsafe her salutation as 
 they passed. But wherever the carriage was 
 stopped for an instant, by reason of the 
 crowding together of all this multitude, it 
 was wonderful to see the number of old 
 emaciated men, and withered hags, that 
 would make their way close up to the win- 
 dows, and begin calling upon Rubellia, and
 
 213 
 
 all of her attendants, to give them money 
 to purchase a single morsel of food. The 
 widow herself leaned back on these occa- 
 sions, as if to avoid the sight of these poor 
 creatures ; but she 'pointed with her finger 
 to a bag of small coin that hung in a corner 
 of the chariot, and from it Sextus distribu- 
 ted abundantly to the one side, and I to the 
 other ; and yet it was impossible to give to 
 every one ; insomuch, that we were sur- 
 rounded all the way with a mingled clamour 
 of benedictions from those that had received, 
 and execrations from those that had got no- 
 thing, and noisy ever-renewed solicitations 
 from that ever-swelling army of mendi- 
 cants. At last, however, we arrived in safe- 
 ty at the western gate of that proud Am- 
 phitheatre — the same around which I had, 
 the night before, witnessed that scene of tu- 
 multuous preparation. One of the officers 
 in waiting there, no sooner descried the 
 equipage of Rubellia, than he caused a space 
 to be laid open for her approach, and him- 
 self advanced, with great civility, to hand 
 
 10
 
 214 
 
 her into the interior of the Amphitheatre ; 
 but she whispered to Sextus and me, by no 
 means to separate from her in the crowd, 
 although, indeed, the care we were obliged 
 to take of the old lady that was with her, 
 might have been sufficient pledge that we 
 could not be removed to any considerable 
 distance. 
 
 Behold me, therefore, in the midst of the 
 Flavian Amphitheatre, and seated, under 
 the wing of this luxurious lady, in one of 
 the best situations which the range of 
 benches set apart for the females and their 
 company, afforded. There was a general 
 silence in the place at the time we entered 
 and seated ourselves, because proclamation 
 had just been made that the gladiators, 
 with^whose combats the exhibition of the 
 day was appointed to commence, were about 
 to enter upon the arena, and shew them- 
 selves in order to the people. As yet, how- 
 ever, they had not come forth from that 
 place of concealment to which so many of 
 |heir number were, of necessity, destined
 
 215 
 
 never to return ; so that I had leisure to 
 collect my thoughts, and to survey for a 
 moment, without disturbance, the mighty 
 and most motley multitude, piled above, 
 below, and on every side around me, from 
 the lordly senators, on their silken couches, 
 along the parapet of i:he arena, up to the 
 impenetrable mass of plebeian heads which 
 skirted the horizon, above the topmost wall 
 of the Amphitheatre itself. Such was the 
 enormous crowd of human beings, high and 
 low, assembled therein, that when any mo- 
 tion went through their assembly, the noise 
 of their rising up or sitting down could 
 be likened to nothing, except, perhaps, the 
 far-off sullen roaring of the illimitable sea, 
 or the rushing of a great night-wind amongst 
 the boughs of a forest. It was the first time 
 that I had ever seen a peopled amphitheatre 
 — nay, it was the first time that I had ever 
 seen any very great multitude of men as- 
 sembled together, within any fabric of hu- 
 man erection ; so that you cannot doubt there 
 was, in the scene before me, enough to im-
 
 216 
 
 press my mind with a very serious feeling of 
 astonishment — not to say of veneration. Not 
 less than eighty thousand human beings, (for 
 such they told me was the stupendous ca- 
 pacity of the building,) were here met to- 
 gether. Such a multitude can no where be 
 regarded, without inspiring a certain indefi- 
 nite indefinable sense of majesty ; least of all, 
 when congregated within the wide sweep of 
 such a glorious edifice as this, and surround- 
 ed on all sides with every circumstance of 
 ornament and splendour, befitting an ever- 
 lasting monument of Roman victories, the 
 munificence of Roman princes, and the im- 
 perial luxury of universal Rome. Judge 
 then, with what eyes of wonder all this 
 was surveyed by me, who had but of yes- 
 terday, as it were, emerged from the soli- 
 tary stillness of a British valley — who had 
 been accustomed all my life to consider as 
 among the most impressive of human spec- 
 tacles, the casual passage of a few scores of 
 legionaries, through some dark alley of a 
 wood, or awe- struck village of barbarians.
 
 217 
 
 Trajan himself was already present, but 
 in nowise, except from the canopy over his 
 ivory chair, to be distinguished from the 
 other Consul that sate over against him ; 
 tall, nevertheless, and of a surety very ma- 
 jestic in his demeanour ; grave, sedate, and 
 benign in countenance, even according to 
 the likeness which you have seen upon his 
 medals and statues. He was arrayed in a 
 plain gown, and appeared to converse quite 
 familiarly, and without the least affectation 
 of condescension, with such Patrlc ! ans as 
 had their places near him ; among whom 
 Sextus and Rubellia pointed out many re- 
 markable personages to my notice ; as for 
 example, Adrian, who afterwards became 
 emperor ; Pliny, the orator, a man of very 
 courtly presence, and lively, agreeable as- 
 pect ; and, above all, the historian Tacitus, 
 the worthy son-in-law of our Agricola, in 
 whose pale countenance I thought I could 
 easily recognize the depth, but sought in 
 vain to discover any traces of the sternness 
 
 VOL. i. K
 
 218 
 
 of his genius. Of all the then proud names 
 that were whispered into my ear, could I 
 recollect or repeat them now, how few 
 would awaken any interest in your minds ! 
 Those, indeed, which I have mentioned, 
 have an interest that will never die. Would 
 that the greatest and the best of them all 
 were to be remembered only for deeds of 
 greatness and goodness ! 
 
 The proclamation being repeated a se- 
 cond time, a door on the right hand of the 
 arena was laid open, and a single trumpet 
 sounded, as it seemed to me, mournfully* 
 while the gladiators marched in with slow 
 steps, each man — naked, except being girt 
 with a cloth about his loins— bearing on 
 his left arm a small buckler, and having a 
 short straight sword suspended by a cord 
 around his neck. They marched, as I have 
 said, slowly and steadily ; so that the whole 
 assembly had full leisure to contemplate the 
 forms of the men ; while those who were, 
 or who imagined themselves to be skilled
 
 219 
 
 in the business of the arena, were fixing, in 
 their own minds, on such as they thought 
 most likely to be victorious, and laying 
 wagers concerning their chances of success, 
 with as much unconcern as if they had been 
 contemplating so many irrational animals, 
 or rather, indeed, I should say, so many 
 senseless pieces of ingenious mechanism. 
 The wide diversity of complexion and fea- 
 ture exhibited among these devoted athletes, 
 afforded at once a majestic idea of the ex- 
 tent of the Roman empire, and a terrible 
 one of the purposes to which that wide 
 sway had too often been made subservient. 
 The beautiful Greek* with a countenance 
 of noble serenity, and limbs after which the 
 sculptors of his country might have model- 
 led their god-like symbols of graceful pow- 
 er, walked side by side with the yellow- 
 bearded savage, whose gigantic muscles 
 had been nerved in the freezing waves of 
 the Elbe or the Danube, or whose thick 
 strong hair was congealed and shagged on
 
 220 
 
 his brow with the breath of Scythian or 
 Scandinavian winters. Many fierce Moors 
 and Arabs, and curled Ethiopians were 
 there, with the beams of the southern sun 
 burnt in every various shade of swarthiness 
 upon their skins. Nor did our own remote 
 island want her representatives in the dead- 
 ly procession, for I saw among the armed 
 multitude — and that not altogether with- 
 out some feelings of more peculiar interest- 
 two or three gaunt barbarians, whose breasts 
 and shoulders bore uncouth marks of blue 
 and purple, so vivid in the tints, that I 
 thought many months could not have elap- 
 sed since they must have been wandering 
 in wild freedom along the native ridges of 
 some Silurian or Caledonian forest. As 
 they moved around the arena, some of these 
 men were saluted by the whole multitude 
 with noisy acclamations, in token, I sup- 
 posed, of the approbation wherewith the 
 feats of some former festival had deserved 
 to be remembered. On the appearance of
 
 221 
 
 others, groans and hisses were heard from 
 some parts of the Amphitheatre, mixed with 
 contending cheers and huzzas from others 
 of the spectators. But by far the greater 
 part were suffered to pass on in silence ; — 
 this being in all likelihood the first — alas ! 
 who could tell whether it might not also be 
 the last day of their sharing in that fearful 
 exhibition ! 
 
 Their masters paired them shortly, and 
 in succession they began to make proof 
 of their fatal skill. At first, Scythian was 
 matched against Scythian — Greek against 
 Greek — Ethiopian against Ethiopian — 
 Spaniard against Spaniard ; and I saw the 
 sand dyed beneath their feet with blood 
 streaming from the wounds of kindred 
 hands. But these combats, although abun- 
 dantly bloody and terrible, were regarded 
 only as preludes to the serious business of 
 the day, which consisted of duels between 
 Europeans on the one side, and Africans 
 on the other ; wherein it was the well-nigh
 
 222 
 
 intransgressible law of the Amphitheatre, 
 that at least one out of every pair of com- 
 batants should die on the arena before the 
 eyes of the multitude. Instead of shrink- 
 ing from the more desperate brutalities of 
 these latter conflicts, the almost certainty 
 of their fatal termination seemed only to 
 make the assembly gaze on them with a 
 more intense curiosity, and a more inhu- 
 man measure of delight. Methinks I feel 
 as if it were but of yesterday, when, — sick- 
 ened with the protracted terrors of a con- 
 flict, that seemed as if it were never to 
 have an end, although both the combatants 
 were already covered all over with hideous 
 gashes, — I at last bowed down my head, 
 and clasped my hands upon my eyes, to 
 save them from the torture of gazing there- 
 on farther: And I had scarcely done so, when 
 Hubellia laid her hand upon my elbow, 
 whispering, M Look, look, now look," in a 
 voice of low steady impatience. I did look, 
 but not to the arena : No ; it was upon
 
 223 
 
 the beautiful features of that woman's face 
 that I looked, and truly it seemed to me as 
 if they presented a spectacle almost as fear- 
 ful as that from which I had just averted 
 mine eyes. I saw those rich lips parted 
 asunder, and those dark eyes extended in 
 their sockets, and those smooth cheeks suf- 
 fused with a stedfast blush, and that lovely 
 bosom swelled and glowing ; and I hated 
 Rubellia as I gazed, for I knew not before 
 how utterly beauty can be brutalized by 
 the throbbings of a cruel heart. But I look- 
 ed round to escape from the sight of her ; — 
 and then the hundreds of females that I saw 
 with their eyes fixed, with equal earnest- 
 ness, on the same spot of horrors, taught 
 me, even at the moment, to think with 
 more charity of that pitiless gaze of one. 
 
 At that instant all were silent, in the 
 contemplation of the breathless strife ; inso- 
 much, that a groan, the first that had esca- 
 ped from either of the combatants, although 
 low and reluctant, and half- suppressed,
 
 224 
 
 sounded quite distinctly amidst the deep 
 hush of the assembly, and being constrain- 
 ed thereby to turn mine eyes once more 
 downwards, I beheld that, at length, one of 
 the two had received the sword of his ad- 
 versary quite through his body, and had 
 sunk before him upon the sand. A beauti- 
 ful young man was he that had received 
 this harm, with fair hair, clustered in glossy 
 ringlets upon his neck and brows ; but the 
 sickness of his wound was already visible 
 on his drooping eye-lids, and his lips were 
 pale, as if the blood had rushed from them 
 to the untimely outlet. Nevertheless, the 
 Moorish gladiator who had fought with 
 him, had drawn forth again his weapon, 
 and stood there awaiting in silence the de- 
 cision of the multitude, whether at once to 
 slay the defenceless youth, or to assist in re- 
 moving him from the arena, if perchance 
 the blood might be stopped from flowing, 
 and some hope of recovery even yet extend- 
 ed to him. Hereupon there arose, on the
 
 225 
 
 instant, a loud voice of contention ; and it 
 seemed to me as if the wounded man re- 
 garded the multitude with a proud, and 
 withal contemptuous glance, being aware, 
 without question, that he had executed all 
 things so as to deserve their compassion, 
 but aware, moreover, that even had that 
 been freely vouchsafed to him, it was too 
 late for any hope of safety. But the cruelty 
 of their faces, it may be, and the loudness 
 of their cries, were a sorrow to him, and 
 filled his dying breast with loathing. Whe- 
 ther or not the haughtiness of his counte- 
 nance had been observed by them with dis- 
 pleasure, I cannot say ; but so it was, that 
 those who had cried out to give him a 
 chance of recovery, were speedily silent, 
 and the Emperor looking round, and seeing 
 all the thumbs turned downwards, (for that 
 is, you know, the signal of death,) was con- 
 strained to give the sign, and forthwith 
 the young man, receiving again without a 
 struggle the sword of the Moor into his 
 gashed bosom, breathed forth his life, and 
 K2
 
 226 
 
 lay stretched out in his blood upon the place 
 of guilt. With that a joyous clamour was 
 uplifted by many of those that looked upon 
 it, and the victorious Moor being crowned 
 with an ivy garland, was carried in proces- 
 sion around the arena by certain young 
 men, who leaped down for that purpose 
 from the midst of the assembly. In the 
 meantime, those that had the care of such 
 things, dragged away, with a filthy hook, 
 the corpse of him that had been slain ; and 
 then, raking up the sand over the blood 
 that had fallen from him, prepared the place, 
 with indifferent countenances, for someother 
 cruel tragedy of the same kind, — while all 
 around me, the spectators were seen rising 
 from their places, and saluting each other ; 
 and there was a buzz of talking as universal 
 as the silence had been during the combat ; 
 some speaking of it, and paying and recei- 
 ving money lost and won upon its issue ; some 
 already laughing merrily, and discoursing 
 concerning other matters, even as if nothing 
 uncommon had been witnessed; while others
 
 227 
 
 again appeared to be entirely occupied with 
 the martial music which ever struck up ma- 
 jestically at such pauses in the course of the 
 cruel exhibition ; some beating time upon 
 the benches before them, others lightly 
 joining their voices in unison with the proud 
 notes of the trumpets and clarions. But as 
 for Rubellia, she talked gaily with Sextus, 
 inviting him to ridicule me along with her, 
 for the strangeness of behaviour I had dis- 
 played. 
 
 The sun, by this, had already mounted 
 high in the heavens, and the glare became 
 so intolerable, that men could no longer 
 fight on equal terms ; which being percei- 
 ved, the Emperor gave command to look 
 after the wild beasts, and, in the mean 
 time, (for I heard his voice distinctly) to 
 hold Thraso the Christian in readiness, and 
 give warning to the Flamens that they 
 should have their altar set forth.
 
 228 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 After saying so, the Emperor, attended 
 by those immediately about his person, 
 withdrew by his private method of access ; 
 but Rubellia told me he had only gone to 
 the Palatine by the subterraneous path, for 
 the purpose of taking some refreshment, 
 and that there was no doubt he would re- 
 turn in time to witness the remaining parts 
 of the spectacle. This example, however, 
 was followed in some sort by a great part 
 of the spectators, for some departed altoge- 
 ther from the walls of the Amphitheatre, 
 while many more were seen moving from 
 place to place, crossing from one vomitory 
 to another, and paying their respects to dif- 
 ferent parties of friends, who had occupied 
 places at a distance from them during the
 
 229 
 
 combats of the gladiators. In the mean 
 time, certain servants of Trajan's household 
 were observed giving directions in the are- 
 na to a great number of persons who af- 
 terwards began to distribute baskets of 
 dried fish, bread, and other eatables, among 
 such as chose to accept of them ; while 
 viands of a more costly description were in- 
 troduced among the wealthy, by slaves and 
 freedmen of their own. Neither were the 
 bearers of water-jars idle, nor such as make 
 a trade of selling fruit and wine upon the 
 Roman streets ; least of all, those whose 
 traffic is in snow, for the purpose of cooling 
 liquor ; — of whom, I believe, hundreds were 
 scrambling in all quarters over the benches, 
 and whistling shrilly as they moved, which 
 is their method of signifying the presence 
 of that ill which they deal. 
 
 Now, the Lady Rubellia was not one of 
 those who would ever leave her friends des- 
 titute of the means of refreshment on such 
 an occasion as this ; and accordingly two or 
 three of her household were soon with us,
 
 230 
 
 bearing jars of sweet-meats in their hands, 
 also divers baskets of fruit, and flasks of 
 wine, with all other appurtenances of a 
 luxurious collation. We had scarcely be- 
 gun to taste of these things, when our at- 
 tention was attracted by some one leaping, 
 with great activity, from one row of benches 
 to another behind us, and looking round, 
 1 discovered, with ease, the rosy counte- 
 nance of Sabinus, whose anxiety to join us 
 was, as I immediately suspected, the cause 
 of all this violent exertion. An ordinary 
 person would have sought some circuitous 
 method of approach, rather than attempt 
 the sheer descent from one of the stone 
 parapets which rose immediately in our 
 rear ; but the brawny limbs of the Centu- 
 rion shrunk not from that adventurous 
 leap, and, in a word, I soon found him seat- 
 ed beside us, and bowing and smiling to 
 Rubellia with all his usual mixture of bold- 
 ness and suavity. He delayed not long from 
 participation in the delicacies that stood be- 
 fore us ; but, on the contrary, forthwith lift-
 
 231 
 
 ed up a goblet full of Falernian, and having 
 set it to his lips, drank down, without stop- 
 ping, till he could see the very foundation 
 of its interior gold. His fingers also soon 
 became acquainted with the receptacles of 
 fruit and confectionary ; and, from the zea- 
 lous attention he paid to their contents, I 
 was half inclined to have some little sus- 
 picion, that he might perhaps have remain- 
 ed in his original situation, had he not 
 chanced to observe the slaves of Rubellia, as 
 they came up the vomitory, with their come- 
 ly-looking, napkin -covered baskets upon 
 their heads. As it was, his arrival was high- 
 ly acceptable to all of us, except perhaps to 
 Rubellia herself, who I thought looked as 
 if she were not overmuch pleased with the 
 interruption his mirthful talk occasioned to 
 the conversation on which she had been en- 
 deavouring to fix the attention of Licinius. 
 For that, however, another interruption, 
 no less effectual, had been already prepared 
 in another part of the assembly, from which 
 the sage Xerophrastes had for some time,
 
 232 
 
 I doubt not, been casting eyes, not less long* 
 ing than those of the Praetorian, on the ban- 
 quet wherein we were sharing. There was 
 such a crowd, however, immediately be- 
 low us, that I know not whether the phi- 
 losopher would ever have been able to 
 make his way to the coveted region where 
 we sate, had it not been that we heard his 
 voice in disputation, and entreated those 
 that opposed his passage, if possible, to 
 make room for him. The first glimpse we 
 had of his countenance, shewed us that the 
 squeezing of those about him, had been 
 giving him serious inconvenience ; for his 
 countenance was wonderfully purple, and 
 the drops of perspiration stood visible on 
 his bald front ; insomuch, that although 
 we could not help smiling at his rueful- 
 ness of visage, it would have been exces- 
 sively cruel to neglect giving our assistance 
 to extricate him from a plight apparently 
 so agonizing. 
 
 The persons to whom he was immediate- 
 ly addressing himself, moreover, seemed
 
 233 
 
 to be listening to him with such utter un- 
 concern, that it was impossible not to feel * 
 somewhat displeased with them, for treat- 
 ing so disrespectfully one whom his grey 
 hairs alone might have entitled to at least 
 some decent portion of courtesy. In vain 
 did he represent to them (for we heard his 
 strong voice distinctly every now and then, 
 in spite of the tumult that surrounded 
 him,) that it was not for the sake of any 
 personal ease or convenience, he was desi- 
 rous of penetrating into an upper part of 
 the Amphitheatre. In vain did he seek to 
 explain to them that it was the call of 
 duty, and the sense of moral obligation, 
 which instigated him to that difficult and 
 perilous ascent. In vain did he reiterate 
 " My pupil" — " my disciple" — " my young 
 disciple" — " my scholar Sextus Licinius" — 
 " the son of Caius Licinius" — " the son of 
 the great orator Caius Licinius is there, — 
 and how can I permit myself to remain 
 absent from him !" — In vain did he enlarge 
 upon the constancy of attention, which
 
 234 
 
 philosophers owe to those who are placed 
 by the hands of parents under their super- 
 intendance. In vain did he address him- 
 self to the pity of the young ; not less 
 vainly did he appeal to the reason of the 
 old, obtesting half the deities of Olympus 
 to the purity of his motives, and the truth 
 of his statements ; — all were alike careless of 
 him, his motives, his statements, his duties, 
 his sufferings, and his desires. No sooner, 
 however, did Sextus and I begin to shew 
 the interest we took in his situation, than 
 Sabinus raised himself up on the bench, 
 and called aloud on those that surrounded 
 the old man, with a voice of much stern- 
 ness and authority, to let him pass imme- 
 diately at their peril. 
 
 Many eyes were forthwith turned to- 
 wards us ; and whether it were the dignity 
 and haughtiness of the Centurion's own 
 voice and attitude, or that his praetorian 
 garb alone gave him much weight in the 
 assembly, the resistance, whereby the Stoic 
 had been so long and so grievously ob-
 
 235 
 
 structed, was very soon relaxed, and Xero- 
 phrastes enjoyed an opportunity of almost 
 entirely recovering his usual serenity of as- 
 pect before he reached us. The first thing 
 he did was to accept of a goblet which I 
 held out to him, and to drain it in a man- 
 ner that would have done no discredit to 
 the Centurion himself; then he swallow- 
 ed two or three great handfuls of grapes ; 
 and then at length turninground, with much 
 courtesy did he thank us all, but most of all 
 the Centurion, for the part he had taken in 
 working out his deliverance, from the hands, 
 as he expressed it, of those inhuman and il- 
 literate persons, enemies alike to science 
 and to virtue ; " while you,*' he continued, 
 u Oh ! most brave and gallant warrior, 
 have shewn that in your breast, as in that 
 of Epaminondas of old — of Alexander him- 
 self indeed — and of your own illustrious 
 Julius — the reverence of the muses, and of 
 divine philosophy, does not disdain to in- 
 habit along with the ardour of active pa-
 
 236 
 
 triotism, and the spirit-stirring delights of 
 Mars." 
 
 " Oh ! as for that," interrupted Rubellia^ 
 with a smile, " all the world knows that 
 Sabinus is quite a philosopher — he was just 
 beginning a very learned harangue when 
 we were attracted by your voice in the 
 crow r d ; and you have the more reason to 
 thank him, because he was cut very unsea- 
 sonably short, in consequence of the distress 
 in which we perceived you." 
 
 " Most noble lady !" replied the Stoic., 
 " you know not how much you have de- 
 lighted me ; from the first moment, in- 
 deed, that my eyes rested upon the coun- 
 tenance of your heroic friend, I suspected 
 that he had subjected himself to some other 
 discipline besides that of camps. I saw the 
 traces of thought, lady — and serious con- 
 templation. The mind can never exercise 
 its faculties, without conveying some symp- 
 toms of those internal operations to the ex- 
 ternal surface of the visage. The soul can
 
 237 
 
 never energize habitually, without betray- 
 ing its activity in the delicacy and acu- 
 men, which the more elegant and suscep- 
 tible parts of the corporeal frame acquire 
 during those elaborate and mysterious pro- 
 cesses of thought. I saw, therefore, and 
 suspected. But what thanks are not due 
 to you, for having so agreeably confirmed 
 me in this happy suspicion ! Of a surety, 
 the noise and tumult of the camp is not 
 so well adapted for the theoretic or con- 
 templative life, as perfect leisure and re- 
 tirement ; yet, who shall doubt that the 
 soul of great energy can overcome all such 
 disadvantages ? Who shall think that the 
 spirit of Socrates did not eagerly philoso- 
 phize during the campaign he served ? — 
 Who shall say that the Stagyrite must have 
 suspended his acute, although imperfect in- 
 vestigations, even although he had accom- 
 panied his royal pupil across the Helle- 
 spont, and attended all the motions of his 
 victorious army, instead of staying at home 
 to teach the youth of Greece ? — Who, fi-
 
 238 
 
 nally," said he, casting his courteous eyes 
 full on the Praetorian, " shall suspect but 
 that this generous warrior has been effec- 
 tually advancing the growth of philosophic 
 science, within his own mind at least, — if 
 not composing works in his intervals of lei- 
 sure, destined hereafter to benefit and in- 
 struct the world, even although he may 
 have been attending the flight of the Ro- 
 man Eagles from utmost Britain to the de- 
 sart frontiers of the Parthian ?" 
 
 " Nobody, indeed," replied the sportive 
 lady, " nobody, indeed, who has enjoyed 
 any opportunity of being acquainted with 
 the Centurion, can have any doubt on that 
 head. — Sabinus," she continued, turning 
 towards him, " what philosophic treatise 
 are you at present engaged with ? Come, 
 now, speak out, and truly, are you still 
 busy with your srgg; rrig (pvtriag ra otirrgx 
 (2a,x%i%8, * that you were quoting from 
 
 # « 
 
 Concerning the nature of the Bacchic Stimulus.
 
 239 
 
 the other night — or are you deep in ' the 
 delight of contemplation ,'- 
 
 " Not at all," quoth the Centurion, in- 
 terrupting her ; " I am only deep in 
 love " 
 
 Saying so, he laid his hand in a very ten- 
 der fashion upon his breast, and even, as I 
 thought, began to throw a little sentiment 
 into his eyes ; but he had no opportunity 
 of going on with his speech, for Xero- 
 phrastes had no sooner heard him utter the 
 word love, than he immediately began to 
 pour out a new rhapsody. 
 
 " Love I" quoth he, " Ha ! love : — in 
 good sooth, a noble subject* and one con- 
 cerning which not a few laudable treatises 
 have been composed by the philosophers. 
 Yet, without question, much remains to 
 be done in this matter; and I should be 
 most proud if the illustrious Sabinus would 
 vouchsafe to me a perusal of his invaluable 
 speculations. Without question," he con- 
 tinued, (i you have commenced with a pro-
 
 240 
 
 per definition and division of the subject. 
 You have distinguished betwixt what is 
 properly called love, and the other more or 
 less kindred affections, with which hallu- 
 cinating writers have too often committed 
 the error of confounding it. You have de- 
 scribed, in the first place, the difference be- 
 tween it and the Storge or natural affec- 
 tion which parents have for their offspring 
 — an affection in which not a few of the irra- 
 tional tribes appear (if physiologists may be 
 trusted,) to be even superior to the human 
 race." 
 
 " Hens, for example," quoth the Centu- 
 rion, with a face of infinite gravity. 
 
 " Even so — kens/' continued the sage ; 
 " an apt illustration and an acute. — I per- 
 ceive, indeed, lady," whispered he to Ru- 
 bellia, " that you have not deceived me 
 concerning the attainments of this your 
 noble friend. — Hens — a most acute illustra- 
 tion ! — See you now, O Sextus !" he went 
 on, " it is not the characteristic of true phi-
 
 241 
 
 losophy to despise those illustrations which 
 are drawn from the affairs of ordinary life, 
 and the common surfaces of things. No : it 
 is rather her part to shew forth her own in- 
 trinsic excellence and splendour, by raising 
 that which is in itself low and customary, 
 to unknown and unexpected dignity, by 
 her methods of felicitous and beautifying 
 application. See you, now, with what un- 
 exampled skill this hero — this philosopher, 
 I should rather say — may I presume to 
 add — this brother-philosopher? has illus- 
 trated the nature of love in this treatise of 
 his, by introducing the domestic habits of 
 your common household fowl. Such things 
 should not pass unheeded by the young as- 
 pirants to learning, because these, more than 
 any other circumstances, may furnish them 
 with encouragement to proceed in their 
 course, by shewing how many of the ma- 
 terials of philosophy lie every where under 
 the eyes of the most common traveller of 
 the path of life ; and how assuredly it is the 
 VOL. t. L
 
 242 
 
 fault of the individual himself, if he neglect 
 the means of spiritual advancement, which 
 are sure to be afforded in whatever situa- 
 tion may chance to have been assigned to 
 him." 
 
 " I beg your pardon for interrupting 
 you," said Rubellia ; " but Sabinus has al- 
 most finished the grapes while you have 
 been speaking ; and I would only just beg 
 to suggest, that it is the fault of the indivi- 
 dual, Xerophrastes, if he neglects the means 
 of corporeal refreshment, which may yet be 
 afforded him by what remains in the basket." 
 
 " Most kind lady," resumed he, " your 
 benevolence is worthy of your nobility. — 
 But you know not how much the philoso- 
 phy I have embraced, tends to lessen the 
 natural desires of man for such things as 
 you allude to — nevertheless," he continued, 
 " I will not refuse to partake yet farther of 
 your bounty ; for, of a surety, I have been 
 sorely dealt with in the multitude, as your- 
 selves witnessed."
 
 243 
 
 So saying, he took hold of the basket, 
 and began to feel in the bottom of it, but 
 found very little to his purpose ; for, to 
 say the truth, the rest of the party had 
 been almost as eager in their attentions to 
 it, as the jolly Centurion himself. A few 
 slender bunches, notwithstanding, were still 
 there, one of which the philosopher thrust 
 into his mouth, and the rest he concealed 
 beneath one of the folds of his huge mantle, 
 until he should have made an end of his cri- 
 ticism on the imaginary treatise of the new- 
 ly dubbed sage Sabinus. While he was bu- 
 sied in hemming and coughing, and other 
 obvious, and not to be mistaken prepara- 
 tions for a renewal of his harangue, I could 
 with difficulty keep myself from laughing- 
 outright, so egregiously was the natural 
 language of the broad, jovial, and unreflec- 
 tive countenance of our worthy Centurion, 
 at variance from the notion of his attain- 
 ments and pursuits, which this merry lady 
 had been amusing herself with instilling into 
 the mind of the pedagogue. Hubellia her-
 
 244 
 
 self, however, appeared to enjoy the thing 
 far more keenly than either Sextus or I; 
 insomuch, that I was afraid Xerophrastes 
 would penetrate through the joke she was 
 playing off upon him, before he had given 
 himself his full swing in regard to the com- 
 mendation of thePreetorian. But Sabinus, on 
 his side, was, as it seemed, of opinion, that he 
 had already heard enough of such disquisi- 
 tions ; for he had scarcely seen out the last 
 cup of Rubellia's Falernian, ere he began to 
 give hints that he wished very much to de- 
 scend into the arena, for the purpose of ob- 
 serving the animals about to be exhibited, 
 while they were yet in their cages. Xero- 
 phrastes, however, even when he had heard 
 him signify this desire, appeared still to be 
 resolved on considering him as one of the 
 philosophic order of mankind; for he at once 
 offered to accompany him, saying, that the 
 visit was of course intended for the gratifi- 
 cation of some scientific curiosity, and that 
 therefore he should think himself extreme- 
 ly culpable, did he neglect the opportunity 
 of going along with him.
 
 245 
 
 " Come, come, then," quoth the good- 
 natured Sabinus, " since you will have it 
 so, by all means prepare yourself for the 
 descent ; but at least allow me to precede 
 you, that there may be no risk of any more 
 untimely obstructions, such as you have 
 already this day experienced. , ' 
 
 " Most assuredly, noble Centurion," re- 
 plied Xerophrastes, " in this, as in all things, 
 I shall be proud to be enumerated among 
 your followers. Sextus, my pupil, also," he 
 added, "and his friend, will of a certainty 
 accompany us, that they may benefit by 
 our discourse, as well as by seeing whatever 
 may be subjected to our observation." 
 
 " Nay, my friend," said Rubellia, " that 
 were not quite fair, neither; would you 
 leave the ladies entirely by themselves in 
 the midst of the Amphitheatre ? I hope 
 Sextus Licinius, at least, will have the cour- 
 tesy to remain with us for our protection." 
 
 So saying, she laid her hand on my com- 
 panion's arm, with a look which satisfied
 
 246 
 
 me she was quite resolved not to part with 
 him. The old lady who was with her then 
 said something about the impropriety of 
 leaving only one of the party to attend 
 upon two females ; but I took advantage of 
 her low tone to pretend ignorance of that 
 which she had uttered, and immediately 
 rose to accompany the Centurion and Xe- 
 rophrastes. 
 
 " You had better go quickly/' said Sex- 
 tus, as we departed; u for surely the interval 
 of the spectacles must, by this time, be well 
 nigh at an end ; and if those that have gone 
 out once begin to rush in again, you may 
 perhaps have some difficulty in regaining 
 your places." 
 
 " Give fear to the winds," quoth Sabi- 
 binus ; '■ am not I with them, that know 
 every lion-feeder in Rome by the head- 
 mark ? and how do you suppose that there 
 is any chance of the exhibition recommen- 
 cing without my having sufficient warning? 
 It is not for nothing that I have lost and
 
 247 
 
 won so many thousand sesterces in the 
 Amphitheatre. No, no — I wish only as 
 much respect were paid to experience every 
 where else, as it is in the Arena to your true 
 old Better. Already," he added, " I per- 
 ceive that half-a-dozen of those knowing 
 characters down below, about the entrances 
 to the dens, have detected me. even at this 
 uistance, and T know they are wondering 
 very much among themselves that I have 
 not yet descended amongst them. They 
 must fancy my purse is in a very poor state 
 indeed, when I don't seem to think it worth 
 while to take even a single peep at the 
 beasts ere they are brought out of their 
 cages. Come, Xerophrastes, my most wor- 
 thy brother in philosophy, and you, my 
 jolly fellow-voyager, Valerius, let us be 
 alert, and move downwards, else we may 
 chance, when all is done, to arrive the day 
 after Plataea." 
 
 With that we began to descend with 
 much alacrity, and, leaving the reluctant 
 Sextus to his fate, were soon near to the
 
 248 
 
 margin of the arena. We had no sooner ar- 
 rived there, than an old skin-dried limping 
 Numidian, with a bit of lion's hide fasten- 
 ed round his loins — one who, from his lean- 
 ness and blackness, had very much the ap- 
 pearance of having been baked to a cinder, 
 
 observed the Centurion, and drew near to 
 
 him with maiP 7 nod? an d significant grins 
 of recognition. Sabinus, on his "part, seem- 
 ed noways backward to acknowledge this 
 old acquaintance ; but/on the contrary, be- 
 gan to talk with him in a strange sort of bro- 
 ken dialect, which, as I afterwards learned, 
 was chiefly composed of Punic vocables, — 
 and all, I doubt not, concerning the business 
 of the day. After this had lasted some mi- 
 nutes, he took Xerophrastes and me by the 
 hand, and seemed to introduce us to the 
 Numidian, who then desired us all to come 
 down, and he would conduct us to a place 
 where we should see something not unwor- 
 thy of being seen. I was just about to fol- 
 low these directions when I felt my gown 
 seized from behind, and looking round, ob-
 
 249 
 
 served that it was my faithful man Boto, 
 who, from the heat and confusion of his as- 
 pect, appeared not to have come thither 
 without a considerable struggle. Sabinus 
 seeing him, said, " Ah ! my old friend Bo- 
 to, how have you come to this part of the 
 Amphitheatre? We must not leave you 
 behind us, however : Of a surety, you have 
 never seen a lion — you shall descend along 
 with your master ; and who knows but we 
 may persuade Xerophrastes that you also 
 are a brother philosopher ?" 
 
 " Most noble master," replied the grate- 
 ful slave, " I saw you and Valerius from the 
 very topmost bench of the place, where I 
 have been sitting for these three hours 
 with Dromo, and I no sooner saw you than 
 I was determined to draw near to you, if it 
 were possible. To go from this place up to 
 yonder quarter would perhaps be impos- 
 sible ; but it is never a very difficult mat- 
 ter to go down in this world ; so, saving your 
 presence, masters all, I trundled myself 
 l 2
 
 250 
 
 over the benches, and when heads were in 
 my way, I e'en trundled myself over them 
 too." 
 
 " It is well, good Briton," quoth the Cen- 
 turion — by this time we had crossed the 
 arena — " and now prepare to exercise your 
 eyes as well as you already have exercised 
 your limbs ; for know, that very near to 
 you is the abode of nobler animals than even 
 your lord hath ever observed." 
 
 With this the old Numidian opened one 
 of the iron doors looking in upon the are- 
 na, and having received some money from 
 us, admitted us to the sight of a long flight 
 of marble steps, which appeared to descend 
 into the bowels of the earth, far below the 
 foundation of the Amphitheatre. 
 
 " Come along, masters," quoth he ; " we 
 had better go down this way, for we shall 
 have a better view of the animals so, than 
 on the other side. My master, Sabinus, will 
 tell you all, that old Aspar knows as much 
 about these things as any Numidian in the 
 place."
 
 251 
 
 " Indeed, since my old friend Bisbal is 
 gone," quoth the Centurion, " there is not 
 another of the whole set that is to be com- 
 pared to you." 
 
 " Ah !" replied Aspar, " Bisbal was a great 
 man ; there is not a feeder in Rome that is 
 worthy to tie the latchet of his sandals, if 
 he were alive." 
 
 « Why, as to that," said the other, " old 
 Bisbal was very seldom worth a pair of san- 
 dals worth the tying, when he was alive ; 
 but, come on, we have no great leisure for 
 talking now, and Aspar can, of a surety, 
 shew a lion with any Bisbal that ever wield- 
 ed a whip. — Come on." 
 
 We soon reached a large vaulted place, 
 apparently below the Amphitheatre, the 
 sides of which were almost entirely covered 
 with iron-gratings, — while up and down 
 the open space were strolling many strange 
 groupes of men, connected in different ca- 
 pacities with the bloody spectacles of the 
 arena. On one hand, we saw some of the 
 gladiators, who had already been combat-
 
 252 
 
 ing, walking to and fro with restless and 
 agitated steps, as if they had not yet been 
 able to recover themselves from the violent 
 state of excitement into which their com- 
 bats had thrown them. Even of such as had 
 been victoriou s, I observed that not a few par- 
 took in all these symptoms of uneasiness ; 
 and the contrast thus exhibited to the proud 
 and haughty mien of calmness they had so 
 lately been displaying, affected me with a 
 strange sense of the irrational and inhuman 
 life these unhappy persons were condemned 
 by folly or necessity to lead. The blood 
 had forsaken the lips and cheeks of others, 
 and from the fixed stare of their eyes, it 
 appeared that their minds were entirely 
 withdrawn from everything passing around 
 them. Their limbs, so recently nerved to 
 the utmost shew of vigour, were now re- 
 laxed and unstrung, and they trod the mar- 
 ble-floor with heavy and straggling feet. 
 But they that appeared to me to be in the 
 most wretched state, were such as, they 
 told us, expected to be led forth shortly to
 
 253 
 
 contend with the wild beasts, in whose im- 
 mediate vicinity they were now walking. 
 The prospect of combating with a human 
 opponent calls into action the fierceness and 
 the pride of man ; but he that has to fight 
 with a beast, how should he not be weighed 
 down with the sense of mortal degradation ; 
 and how should the Reason that is in him 
 not fill him, in such a prospect, with dis- 
 piriting and humbling, rather than with 
 strengthening and stimulating thoughts ? 
 Howbeit, the Centurion, although the most 
 good-natured of mankind, being rendered 
 from custom quite callous to these things, 
 immediately entered into conversation with 
 some of those unfortunates, in a tone of cool- 
 ness and unconcern that shocked me the 
 more, because it did not seem in the small- 
 est degree to shock those to whom his 
 words were addressed. Among other topics, 
 he enlarged at much length to one of them 
 upon the best method of evading the at- 
 tack of a tiger
 
 254 
 
 " Look ye now," said he, " there are 
 some that are always for taking things, as 
 they call it, in good time, — these will be 
 pointing their swords before the creature 
 makes his spring ; but I have seen what 
 comes of that, and so has old Aspar here, 
 if he would be honest enough to confess it. 
 The true way is to watch his eye when he 
 is setting ; let him fairly fix upon his mark, 
 and spring ; but at the moment when he 
 is taking his leap, then is the time for the 
 gladiator to start aside, and have at him 
 with a side- thrust. Your side- thrust is the 
 only one I would lay an as upon." 
 
 " It was always on the side-thrust," quoth 
 the grinning Aspar, — " it was always on 
 your cool steady side- thrust, the moment 
 he had sprung, that the great Bisbal used 
 to stake himself. Ha ! ha ! I was fond of 
 the side- thrust in my day myself; but I got 
 a scratch once — witness my poor leg, mas- 
 ters, — and since then I am a poor feeder." 
 
 " I was always clear for the side-thrust," 
 quoth Sabinus. " I never saw it fail but
 
 255 
 
 twice, and then, to be sure, the men died ; 
 but they could have had no chance at all 
 with the front-guard ; and it is always some- 
 thing," continued he, clapping one of the 
 poor expecting gladiators on the back, — 
 " it is always something to have a chance. 
 Be sure you try him with the side-thrust, 
 if it come to your turn to-day." 
 
 The poor creature — he also was an Afri- 
 can — lifted up his head on being so ad- 
 dressed, and shewed all his white teeth in 
 a melancholy attempt at a smile ; but said 
 not a word in reply, and forthwith became 
 as down-cast as ever again. But the Cen- 
 turion took little or no heed of the manner 
 in which his advice had been received. He 
 contemplated the man's figure for a mo- 
 ment, as if to form some judgment concern- 
 ing the measure of his strength ; and after 
 doing the like in regard to some of his com- 
 panions, commanded Aspar to shew us 
 where the prime lions of the day were re- 
 posing.
 
 256 
 
 The Numidian no sooner heard him say 
 so, than he seized in his hand a long pole 
 that was leaning against one of the pillars 
 of the vault, and led us to a certain part of 
 the grated-wall, behind which was the den, 
 wherein six monstrous Atlantic lions were 
 kept. I looked in upon them with wonder, 
 and not without dread, through the iron net- 
 work of the doors. An imperfect gleam of 
 light descended from above upon their taw- 
 ny hides and glaring eyes. They, like the 
 gladiators, seemed also to be preparing for 
 the combat ; but not like them in fear, nor 
 in cold dewy tremours ; for the deprivation 
 of food, which they had been made to suffer 
 in prospect of the exhibition, had roused all 
 the energies of their savage natures ; inso- 
 much, that a sulky and yearning rage seem- 
 ed to spread through every nerve and sinew 
 of their gigantic frames, and to make them 
 paw their quadrangular prison with long 
 and pliant strides. They moved, however, 
 as yet in total silence ; so that Boto having 
 fixed his eyes upon them, took courage to
 
 257 
 
 approach the grate, — slowly, nevertheless, 
 and with a face that appeared to lengthen 
 an inch for every inch he advanced. But 
 when he had almost touched the bars, one 
 of the huge lions came forward towards 
 him, with something between a growl and 
 a sigh, which made Boto spring backward 
 with great and surprising agility, and with 
 such force, that both he and Xerophrastes, 
 who happened um^:^r.. atel J to h ave been 
 standing a little way behind him, were 
 overthrown at all their length upon the 
 floor. 
 
 Hereupon the Centurion, and the limp- 
 ing old keeper, immediately burst out in- 
 to loud laughter ; but Xerophrastes ri- 
 sing, and shaking his garment, said, with 
 some warmth, " Think not, Oh Sabinus, 
 that any sudden start of fear has thus ridi- 
 culously stretched me upon the floor ; but 
 attribute the mischance only to this rude 
 offspring of British earth, whose unreclaim- 
 ed natural feelings are still shamefully af- 
 fected by natural causes."
 
 258 
 
 " Castor and Pollux," quoth the Centu- 
 rion, — "you take everything too seriously, 
 my friend." 
 
 " I take it not seriously," replied he, with 
 admirable gravity. " My philosophy for- 
 bids me to do so ; it has steeled me against 
 externals." 
 
 " Has it so, in faith ?" rejoined the Cen- 
 turion. " I think something of your equa- 
 nimity is, in fact, owin* *** *£ trilling cir- 
 cumstance, that you have in reality received 
 no injury whatever from your tumble. And 
 as to steeling, let me tell you, I think the 
 iron in the grated- door there is much bet- 
 ter placed, than in the bosom of a philoso- 
 pher ; for, in the door, it serves the purpose 
 of preventing all harm ; but if these ani- 
 mals were once out, all the mental steel of 
 which you boast would not save every bone 
 in your body from being cracked in the 
 twanging of a bow-string." 
 
 " You speak," replied Xerophrastes, " as 
 if you had embraced the tenets of a sect 
 not worthy of the lovers of wisdom — You
 
 259 
 
 speak as if the artificial contrivances of hu- 
 man workmen were all in all. An iron- 
 cage may confine wild beasts ; but can 
 cages be made for all those misfortunes to 
 which mankind are liable, and against which 
 the force of the mind is their only means of 
 defence ? Can you cage the Eumenides, 
 when they come to avenge a life spent in 
 ignoble indolence and degrading luxury ?" 
 
 " In truth," replied the Centurion, with 
 a smile, " I have never seen the Eume- 
 nides except once, and that was in the thea- 
 tre of Athens. But Boto, perhaps, has been 
 more fortunate. Did you ever see the Eu- 
 menides, good Boto ?" 
 
 " No, master," replied, stupidly, the per- 
 plexed Boto, " I never was at the theatre." 
 
 " Ye Gods !" exclaimed the Stoic, his lips 
 smiling with lofty scorn — " Ye Gods ! of a 
 surety this Britain must have been the last 
 spot rescued from the dominion of Chaos !"
 
 260 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 But while we were yet contemplating 
 those enormous animals, and amused with 
 the perplexity of Boto, the trumpets were 
 blown in the Amphitheatre, and no sooner 
 did the sound of them penetrate into the 
 vaults, than it was evident, from the bustle 
 which ensued, that the Emperor had re- 
 turned to his place, and that the spectacle 
 was about to recommence. With all speed, 
 therefore, did we reascend to the upper 
 air, leaving the gladiators in the act of 
 mustering in their respective quarters of 
 the gloomy vault ; and the feeders not less 
 busied in preparing their beasts for the ex-
 
 261 
 
 pected combat. Had we not been under the 
 protection of Sabinus, we should have at- 
 tempted in vain to regain our places ; but 
 he being an acknowledged and current au 
 thority, known in every department of the 
 Amphitheatre, the door-keepers, and other 
 functionaries, durst refuse him nothing ; 
 insomuch, that room was made for us where 
 no room appeared ; and, in a word, we short- 
 ly found ourselves once more seated by the 
 side of Rubellia and Sextus. 
 
 The day was by this time considerably 
 advanced ; and, in spite of the awnings 
 spread all over head, the rays of the sun 
 were so powerful, that the marble benches 
 felt hot to the touch, wherever they were 
 exposed to them ; and altogether there was 
 such a glare and fervour throughout the 
 place, that my eyes began to be weary of 
 gazing ; and very gladly would I have re- 
 tired, rather than remain to see out the rest 
 of the exhibition. Nevertheless, there was 
 no appearance of any one having gone away 
 in weariness ; but, on the contrary, the seats,
 
 262 
 
 and even the passages, seemed to be more 
 crowded than they had been in the anterior 
 part of the morning. 
 
 The arena was perfectly vacant, when I 
 looked down upon it ; but in a short time, 
 a single old man, who, as Rubellia told me, 
 had, without doubt, been found guilty of 
 some atrocious wickedness, was led forth 
 from a small wicket on the one side, and 
 presently his fetters being struck off, those 
 that conducted him retired, leaving him 
 alone upon the sand. The eyes of this ma- 
 lefactor refused at first to look stedfastly on 
 the objects around him, and it seemed to me 
 that he had probably been long confined in 
 some dark place, so grievously did the daz- 
 zling splendour, reflected from the floor and 
 walls, appear to bewilder and confound him. 
 Nevertheless, after a brief space, he seemed, 
 in some measure, to recover himself, and 
 assumed a posture of calm resignation, lean- 
 ing with one hand against the parapet, as if 
 he needed support to uphold himself. Pallid 
 and extenuated were the outlines of the old
 
 263 
 
 man's visage, and his hair and beard exhi- 
 bited not a little of the squalidness atten- 
 dant on long and hopeless confinement ; 
 yet there was something in the attitude, and 
 even in the countenance, of the man, which 
 made me harbour the suspicion that he had 
 not, at some former period, been altogether 
 unacquainted with the luxuries and refine- 
 ments of social life. The beauty, indeed, of 
 the mould in which his form had originally 
 been cast, might, perhaps, have been the 
 sole cause of these casual demonstrations 
 of elegance ; yet it was impossible not to 
 regard the man with greater interest, by 
 reason of the contrast which imagination 
 could suggest between what he once might 
 have been, perhaps had been, and what he 
 now was. 
 
 A feeling of somewhat the same sort 
 seemed, of a truth, to pervade many more 
 in the assembly besides myself; and I heard 
 a continual whispering among those around 
 me, as if there was a general anxiety to learn
 
 264 
 
 something concerning the history of the 
 man. No one, however, appearing to be 
 able to say any thing concerning him, I 
 kept my eyes fixed upon himself, awaiting 
 the issue in silence. Judge then, what was 
 my surprise, when one of the heralds of Tra- 
 jan, having commanded that there should 
 be silence in the Amphitheatre, said, " Let 
 Thraso of Antioch come forth, and answer 
 to the things that shall be alleged against 
 him." To which the old man, that was alone 
 in the arena, immediately made reply, — 
 " Here am I — my name is Thraso of An- 
 tioch." — In vain, however, even after hear- 
 ing the well-remembered voice, did I at- 
 tempt to persuade myself that the face was 
 such as I had pictured within myself; for, 
 as to seeing it, I have already told you that 
 utter darkness prevailed in the dungeon all 
 the time I was there with him. 
 
 Then arose the Prefect of the city, who 
 had his place immediately under the chair 
 of the Prince, and said in a voice, which,
 
 265 
 
 although not loud, was heard distinctly all 
 through the Amphitheatre, — " Thraso of 
 Antioch, being accused of blasphemy and 
 contempt for the Gods, has been brought 
 hither, either to refute this charge, by doing 
 homage at the altar of Jupiter Best and 
 Greatest ; or, persisting in his rebellion 
 against Rome, and the Prince, and the re- 
 ligion of the state, to suffer openly the pu- 
 nishment which the laws of the state have 
 affixed to such perversity. Let him re- 
 main where he is until the Flamens invite 
 us all to join in the sacrifice.*' 
 
 Then Thraso, hearing these words, stept 
 forth into the middle of the arena, and fold- 
 ing his arms upon his breast, stood there 
 composedly, without once lifting up his 
 eyes, either to the place from which the 
 Prefect had spoken to him, or to any other 
 region of the Amphitheatre. The situa- 
 tion in which he stood was such, that I 
 commanded, where I sate, a full and dis- 
 tinct view of every movement of the old 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 266 
 
 man's countenance, and assuredly my eyes 
 were in no danger of being directed away 
 from him. For a few moments there was 
 perfect silence throughout the assembly, 
 until at length the same herald, who had 
 previously spoken, made proclamation for 
 the doors to be thrown open, that the priests 
 of Jupiter might have access to the arena. 
 Whereupon there was heard forthwith a 
 noise, as of the turning of some heavy ma- 
 chinery, and a part of the ground-work of 
 the arena itself appeared to be giving way, 
 right over against that quarter in which 
 Thraso had his station. But of this the 
 purpose was soon manifested, when there 
 arose from underneath into the space thus 
 vacated, a certain wooden stage, or plat- 
 form, covered all over with rich carpetings, 
 whereof the centre was occupied by a mar- 
 ble altar, set forth already with all the usual 
 appurtenances of sacrifice, and surmounted 
 on one side by a gigantic statue of bronze, in 
 which it was easy to recognise all the features
 
 267 
 
 of the great Phidian Jupiter. Neither had the 
 altar any sooner made its appearance there, 
 and the sound of the machinery, by which 
 its great weight had been lifted, ceased to 
 be heard, than even as the herald had given 
 command, the main gates of the Amphi- 
 theatre were expanded, and thereby a free 
 passage prepared for the procession of the 
 Flamens. With that, all those that were 
 present in the Amphitheatre, arose from 
 their seats and stood up, and a sweet sym- 
 phony of lutes and clarions ushered in the 
 sacred band to the place appointed for them. 
 And, first of all, there marched a train of 
 fifty beautiful boys, and then an equal num- 
 ber of very young maidens, all, both boys 
 and maidens, arrayed in white tunics, and 
 having their heads crowned with oaken 
 garlands, and bearing in their hands fresh 
 branches of the oak tree, which, above all 
 the other trees of the forest, is, as you have 
 heard and well know, held dear and sacred 
 to Jupiter. Then these youthful bands
 
 268 
 
 were separated, and they arranged them- 
 selves, the boys on the right, and the girls 
 on the left hand of the altar, some of them 
 standing on the arena itself, and others on 
 either side, upon the steps of the platform 
 whereon the altar was fixed ; and beautiful, 
 indeed, was their array, and comely and 
 guiltless were their looks ; and much mo- 
 desty was apparent, both in the downcast 
 eyes and closed lips, with which some of 
 them stood there to await the issue of their 
 coming, and in the juvenile admiration 
 wherewith others of them were regarding 
 the wide and splendid assemblage around 
 them ; insomuch, that I could not but feel 
 within myself a certain dread and fearful- 
 ness, when I saw the feet of so many ten- 
 der and innocent ones placed there upon 
 the same hot and guilty sand> which had so 
 often drunk the blood of fierce beasts and 
 cruel malefactors— alas ! — which had drunk 
 the blood of the innocent also — and which 
 was yet to drink thereof abundantly.
 
 269 
 
 And after them there came in the priests 
 themselves of Jupiter, arrayed in the white 
 garments of sacrifice, walking two by two, 
 the oldest and principal of them coming 
 last. And behind them again, were cer- 
 tain younger assistants, clothed also in 
 white, who led by a cord of silk inwrought 
 with threads of silver, a milk-white steer, 
 without spot or blemish, whose horns were 
 already gilt, and his broad brows crowned 
 with oak leaves and roses. And last of all 
 entered the Vestal Virgins, none of whom 
 had ever before been seen by me, and they 
 also walked two by two ; and no one could 
 contemplate, without veneration, the ma- 
 jesty of their demeanour. With broad fil- 
 lets were they bound around the forehead, 
 and deep flowing veils hung down to their 
 feet, entirely covering their faces and their 
 hands ; nevertheless, their dignity was ap- 
 parent ; and it was not the less impressive, 
 by reason of the great mystery in which 
 all things about them appeared to be enve- 
 loped.
 
 270 
 
 Imagine, therefore, to yourselves, how 
 magnificent was the appearance of all things, 
 when youths and damsels, and priests and 
 vestals, had taken their places, according 
 to the custom of their sacred observances ; 
 and all that innumerable company of spec- 
 tators yet standing up in the Amphi- 
 theatre, the choral-hymn was begun, in 
 which every voice there was united, except 
 only that of Thraso the Christian. Now, 
 it was the soft low voices of the young 
 maidens that sounded, and then these would 
 pause, and give place to the clearer and 
 more piercing notes of the boys that stood 
 on the other side of the altar ; then again 
 the priestesses of Vesta would break in from 
 afar with their equable harmony ; and anon 
 these in their turn ceasing, the Flamens of 
 Jupiter would lift up their strong deep 
 chaunting, until, at the appointed signal 
 from him that stood on the highest step of 
 £* altar,with the cup of libation in his hand, 
 the whole people that were present burst in 
 and joined in the pushing stream of the bur-
 
 271 
 
 den, " Jupiter, — Jupiter, hear us ! — hear 
 us, Father of Gods and men !" while the 
 wine was poured out, gushing red upon the 
 marble, and the incense flung on high from 
 fifty censers, rolled its waves of smoke all 
 over the surface of the arena, and quite up 
 to the gorgeous canopy of that resounding 
 Amphitheatre. Magnificent, indeed, was 
 the spectacle, and majestic the music ; yet 
 in the midst of it, how could I take away 
 my eyes from the pale and solitary old man, 
 by reason of whose presence alone all these 
 things were so ? With calm eyes did he 
 regard all the pageantry of those imperial 
 rites, — with closed lips did he stand amidst 
 all the shouting multitudes. He bowed not 
 his head ; he lifted not up his hand ; nei- 
 ther would he bend his knee, when the vic- 
 tim was slain before the horns of the altar ; 
 neither would he in any thing give sem- 
 blance of being a partaker in the worship. 
 At length the song ceased, and there was 
 a proclamation again for deep silence ; and
 
 272 
 
 the Prefect of the city, addressing himself 
 once more to Thraso, said unto him, " Im- 
 pious and unhappy man, with great cle- 
 mency have all things been conducted as 
 concerning thee. When, after long impri- 
 sonment, and innumerable exhortations in 
 private and in public, thou hadst always 
 rejected every means of safety, and spurned 
 from thee the pardon of those, in whose 
 hands thy being is placed, yet, notwith- 
 standing of all thine obstinacy and conti- 
 nual rebellion, was it determined, that, in 
 the face of all the people, thou shouldst 
 once more have free grace offered to thee, 
 provided only thou shouldst, when all the 
 assembly worshipped, join thy voice with 
 them, and bow thy head also toward the 
 altar of Jupiter. Nevertheless, all that now 
 hear me shall bear witness, that, with open 
 and visible contumacy, thou hast rejected 
 this opportunity also, of being reconciled 
 unto the prince and the empire, — that, when 
 every knee bent, and every voice was lifted
 
 273 
 
 up, thou alone hast stood upright, and thy 
 lips alone have been closed. If it be so, 
 that, from some inflicted, rather than vo- 
 luntary perversion of mind, thou hast ne- 
 ver yet been able to understand the danger 
 in which thou art placed, know now, that 
 there remains no hope at all for thee, except 
 for a moment ; and let the strong fear of 
 death open thine eyes, that thou may est see 
 where thou art, and for what purpose thou 
 hast been brought hither. Thou art a born 
 subject of Rome, and thy life can only be 
 held by thee, in virtue of obedience to the 
 laws of the Prince and the Senate. These 
 laws are clearer and more distinct upon 
 nothing, than the necessity that all men 
 should acknowledge the deities of Rome ; 
 and of good reason, since, if they be despi- 
 sed, and their authority set at naught, by 
 what means shall an oath be ratified, or a 
 pledge given ; or how may the head, which 
 counsels and protects, be assured that the 
 members shall not be lifted up against it ? 
 m %
 
 274 
 
 Let silence remain in the assembly, and let 
 Thraso of Antioch make his election, whe- 
 ther he will give obedience to the laws, or 
 suffer the penalty of their transgression." 
 
 Then the Prefect, and all those round 
 about Trajan, sat down, and there was a 
 deep silence throughout the lower region of 
 the Amphitheatre, where, for the most part, 
 they of condition were placed ; but when 
 the rabble, that sat above, beheld the stern 
 and resolute countenance with which the 
 old man stood there upon the arena, it seem- 
 ed as if they were enraged thereby beyond 
 measure, and there arose among them a 
 fierce uproar, and a shouting of hatred ; 
 and, amidst groans and hisses, there was a 
 cry from innumerable voices, of " Chris- 
 tian ! Christian ! — Blasphemer ! Blasphe- 
 mer !— Atheist ! Atheist !— A tiger ! A 
 tiger ! — Let loose a tiger upon the Chris- 
 tian !" 
 
 Nevertheless, the old man preserved un- 
 moved the stedfastness of his demeanour,
 
 275 
 
 and lifting up his eyes to the place from 
 whence the tumult proceeded, regarded the 
 ferocious multitude with a visage, not of 
 anger, or of scornfulness, but rather of pity, 
 and of calmness ; insomuch, that I percei- 
 ved the nobles and senators were somewhat 
 ashamed of the outcry, and the Prefect of 
 the city arose from his place, and beckoned 
 with his hand, until the people were weary 
 of shouting, and order was, in some mea- 
 sure, re-established in the Amphitheatre. 
 
 Then Thraso, perceiving that silence once 
 more prevailed, lifted up his hand, and bow- 
 ed himself before Trajan, and the great men 
 of authority that were near to his chair, and 
 said, with a firm clear voice, in the Roman 
 tongue, " My name, O Trajan, is Thraso — 
 the son of Androboulos. I am a native of 
 Antioch, in Syria, and have in all things, 
 except only in what pertains to this cause, 
 observed throughout all the years of my life 
 the statutes of the empire, as they, by whose 
 accusation I have been led hither, shall them-
 
 276 
 
 selves be constrained to bear abundant wit- 
 ness for me this day. My father was a Greek 
 of Macedonian extraction, being descended 
 from one of those that came into Syria be- 
 neath the banners of the great King Seleu- 
 cus ; but he took to wife a maiden of the 
 Hebrew nation, and in process of time be- 
 came a proselyte to the faith of her fathers. 
 Nevertheless, he lived in trust and honour 
 beneath the governors appointed by those 
 that were before you in the empire, and 
 brought up me and all his children to reve- 
 rence, in all things that are lawful, the au- 
 thority of Caesar. But as to the faith of 
 the true God, whose worshippers ye blind- 
 ly and foolishly call atheists and blasphe- 
 mers, from that he neither swerved himself, 
 nor would permit any of those that were in 
 his household to depart. Now, when he 
 had been a dweller for some time in Jeru- 
 salem, the great city of the Jews, he began 
 to examine into those things which were 
 reported publicly concerning Jesus of Naza-
 
 277 
 
 reth, who is also called the Christ, of which 
 things, not a few, that had been eye-wit- 
 nesses, were then living in that city. And 
 when he had been satisfied from their tes- 
 timony, that those miracles, of which you 
 have all heard, were in truth performed in 
 the sight of the people by Jesus of Naza- 
 reth, and had listened unto the words of 
 their teachers, and saw how they proved 
 that the old prophets of the Hebrews had 
 foretold those wonderful works, he percei- 
 ved that Jesus of Nazareth was indeed the 
 Christ of God, and the great Deliverer that 
 had been promised to that people, even 
 from the time of the patriarchs, and the 
 beginning of their nation. And he believed 
 on him with all his household ; and I also, 
 from a stripling, have, although unworthy, 
 been a Christian ; for by that name were 
 they first called in Antioch, the city of my 
 birth, 
 
 " But being brought into trouble by rea- 
 son of his religion, which the rulers of the
 
 278 
 
 Jews abhorred, my father departed, after a 
 time, from Jerusalem, and dwelt with my 
 mother in one of the villages of Palestine, 
 until his death. Not long after which time, 
 the Jews rebelled against Caesar, and the 
 great war began, which terminated in the 
 overthrow of Jerusalem, and the utter ruin 
 of their nation. Now, when Vespasian first 
 came with his army into those regions, I, 
 being without employment in the place 
 where we had our habitation, and having, 
 moreover, taken up a great, and perhaps a 
 sinful, wrath against the Jews, on account 
 of the sufferings which my father had un- 
 dergone among them, and of the evils which, 
 at their hands, our whole household had 
 sustained, joined myself to one of the bands 
 of Syrian auxiliaries ; and although my mo- 
 ther entreated me, could not be persuaded 
 to refrain from following the camp of Cae- 
 sar along with them. Of which thing it 
 has often since then repented me, and in 
 which, it may be, I still hold myself not to
 
 279 
 
 have done altogether as was right ; for if 
 the Jews had offended Caesar, it was, in- 
 deed, a reasonable thing that Csesar should 
 visit them with his vengeance ; but, per- 
 adventure, it behoved not any of them that 
 were descended from the fathers of that 
 people, to take part in the warfare. Ne- 
 vertheless, being then young, and full of 
 life, and, as I have said, irritated by the sense 
 of domestic injuries, I scrupled not to ful- 
 fil in all things the duty of a true soldier, 
 and followed the eagles of Vespasian and 
 his son, even to the day when the lines 
 were drawn around the Holy City ; and it 
 was manifest, that the war could have no 
 end, but in the eternal overthrow of the 
 power of the Jews. Neither did the length 
 of the siege weary me, or produce within 
 me any sort of unwillingness ; but, on the 
 contrary, so long as the city was beleaguer- 
 ed, I remained with the band in which I 
 had numbered myself, and did in all things 
 such service as my strength would permit.
 
 280 
 
 Even among the soldiers that have guarded 
 my prison, since I was led into Rome for 
 the sake of that accusation which has been 
 brought against me in the matter of my 
 belief, — even among them, I have seen the 
 faces of some that were my comrades in 
 that fierce war, and that long beleaguer- 
 ment, who also, if they be commanded, will 
 not refuse to bear testimony before you, 
 that all these are true, even as I have said, 
 and that I was a faithful soldier, both of 
 Vespasian and of Titus, unto the last. Nei- 
 ther, indeed, did I lay down arms imme^ 
 diately when Jerusalem had been sacked, 
 and the Temple burnt, according to the 
 prediction of Christ, but went with Caesar 
 along the sea-coast, and was present with 
 him all through the journey ings he made in 
 Egypt, even to the day when he made his 
 great festival at Alexandria, and crowned 
 the Ox Apis with his own hands, in the 
 presence of all that people. On which day 
 it was, that, for the first time, I also was
 
 281 
 
 accused of being a Christian, and at the 
 command of Titus himself, was interroga- 
 ted by one of the rulers of the army. 
 
 " Now with shame and confusion of face 
 must I acknowlege, that on that day I, from 
 desire of life, forgot myself utterly, and 
 being deserted of all stedfastness, went up 
 to the altar in presence of my judge, and 
 offered gifts there to one of the idols of the 
 Egyptians, whereon I was declared free of 
 all blame ; and even received honour and 
 commendation thereafter from them, on ac- 
 count of my services in the war. But, from 
 that day, my spirit sunk within me, and I 
 knew not what to do, by reason of the sor- 
 row that came upon me for that which I 
 had done ; insomuch, that I grew weary of 
 all things, and determined to leave the band 
 in which I was serving, that I might seek 
 out, if it were possible, the habitation of my 
 mother, and make atonement in secret for 
 the wickedness of which I, unhappy and 
 fearful man, had been guilty at Alexandria. 
 Being absolved, therefore, from my oath of
 
 282 
 
 service, on account of the length of time I 
 had remained with the army, I departed 
 from Egypt, and, after a time, found out 
 my mother where she was dwelling in the 
 mountainous country of Palestine, to the 
 north of Jerusalem. In going thither, how- 
 ever, I was constrained to pass by the place 
 where I had so long lain in your camp, O, 
 Romans ! and to look with my own eyes on 
 the sorrowful desolation of that ancient city, 
 where so many holy prophets of the He- 
 brews had ministered, and so many great 
 kings reigned in the days of the old time, 
 when their nation flourished, and was cho- 
 sen and favoured of the Almighty. And it 
 was then, indeed, that I first began to re- 
 pent me of having been present in the host 
 of Titus, and of having had a part in that 
 terrible destruction ; to which, when I add- 
 ed the recollection of my own miserable ti- 
 morousness, when I was accused, by rea- 
 son of the faith that was in me, at Alexan- 
 dria — of a surety, great was my perplexity, 
 and I fled across the mountains with much
 
 283 
 
 speed, seeking in vain to fly from the stings 
 and perpetual torment of my own medita- 
 tions, which nevertheless continued even 
 more and more to sink into my spirit ; in- 
 somuch, that when I came into the place 
 where my mother was dwelling, scarcely 
 could she recognize me, wasted and worn 
 as 1 was with that perpetual misery of 
 shame and repentance. Without reproach- 
 es, however, and indeed with great kind- 
 ness, did she receive me into her habita- 
 tion, even although, as I have said, she had 
 been much offended with me because of 
 my going up to the beleaguerment of the 
 city of her fathers. But when I, being hum- 
 bled, made confession to her and her house- 
 hold, and to all the faithful that were in 
 that place, of the grievous sin whereof I 
 had been guilty in Egypt, both she and all 
 the rest of them busied themselves conti- 
 nually to comfort me, and to assure me 
 that there was yet hope, if my repentance 
 were sincere, and my resolution immove-
 
 284 
 
 able never again to yield myself to any si- 
 milar temptation. One of them also, that 
 had been ordained of the disciples of Christ 
 to minister in holy things among the scat- 
 tered believers that dwelt up and down in 
 that region, eame not many days after to 
 the same place, and having publicly heard 
 my confession in presence of the Church 
 there, gave unto me absolution, and admit- 
 ted me once more to be a partaker with 
 them in the ordinances of the sanctuary. 
 From which day, O Trajan ! I have never 
 again been so far deserted of myself, as to 
 fall back into that miserable error, or by any 
 cowardly word of mine, to deny the faith 
 that is in me, which is the faith of the True 
 God that made heaven and earth, and of 
 his Son Jesus Christ, whom he sent into the 
 world to teach loving kindness, and long- 
 suffering, and patience, among all kindreds, 
 and tongues, and nations of mankind ; and 
 to make expiation, by the accursed death 
 of the cross, for the evil and the wicked-
 
 285 
 
 ness that is in the world. From which faith, 
 should I now depart, out of terror for that 
 which, by your command, may befal me in 
 this place, of a surety no comfort could 
 ever again come to me in my mind, for I 
 should be bowed down, and utterly miser- 
 able, out of grief and shame ; which as you 
 yourself, O Caesar, will admit and acknow- 
 ledge, is far worse than death itself, or any 
 evil which the body of man can sustain. 
 Neither could I have any hope of being re- 
 conciled unto the True God, whom I should 
 have so, once and again, denied ; insomuch, 
 that neither in life nor in death should I be 
 able to have any happiness; — for in life, what 
 happiness is there to him that is ashamed 
 of himself? — and, in departing from life, 
 what comfort can be given to him, that, 
 knowing the truth, hath openly abjured the 
 truth for the sake of a few, at the utmost, 
 and these most miserable and unhappy 
 years ? I am an old man, and my near 
 kindred and my friends are already dead, 
 so that poor after all, and not worthy to be
 
 286 
 
 mentioned, is the sacrifice on which I have 
 this day resolved. And as for you, O Ro- 
 mans, should I now make shipwreck of my 
 faith, and tell a lie to save my life before 
 you, with what contempt would yourselves 
 be constrained forthwith to look upon me ? 
 Whosoever is wise among you, according 
 to the philosophy of the earth, would ut- 
 terly despise me ; and whosoever is brave 
 and stedfast of spirit, would think foul scorn 
 that a soldier of Titus should be so much 
 afraid to die. Therefore, O Trajan, am I 
 resolved to endure all things rather than 
 sacrifice to your gods ; and if such be your 
 will, I will not refuse to die for this cause, 
 to which witness has already been borne in 
 Rome by the blood of so many apostles, 
 and other noble martyrs of Christ." 
 
 The old man, having said these words, 
 bowed himself once more reverently be- 
 fore Trajan, and then folding his arms in 
 his cloak, appeared to await submissively, 
 yet boldly, whatever might be appointed 
 concerning him* Stedfastly did I look upon
 
 287 
 
 his face at that moment, to see whether it 
 might exhibit no traces of wavering, or at 
 least, if pride barred irresolution, whether, 
 nevertheless, there might not appear some 
 token of natural sorrow, and human unwil- 
 lingness to die ; yet in vain did I scruti- 
 nize and seek therein for any such symp- 
 toms of spiritual weakness ; for although it 
 was visible that, with the exertion of so 
 long standing and speaking, to say nothing 
 of thought and anxiety, his bodily strength 
 was much spent, still his eye preserved all 
 its firmness, and his brow remained quite 
 serene ; and the parched lips of the old man 
 did not once betray the least shadow of 
 trembling. Methinks I see him even now, 
 as he then stood — his deep calm eyes some- 
 times turned upwards to Trajan, but for the 
 most part bent downwards to the ground, 
 beneath those grey brows of his, whose 
 dark shade rested upon his large solemn 
 eyelids. Upon his broad front, as he stoop- 
 ed, no hair appeared, but long hoary ring- 
 lets, clustered down on either side, ming- 
 
 8
 
 288 
 
 ling with the venerable, although dishevel- 
 led beard, that lay upon his bosom. Heroic 
 meekness was enthroned visibly upon all 
 his lineaments, and a murmur began to 
 run through the assembly, as if— even in a 
 Christian — it were not possible to contem* 
 plate such things without admiration. 
 
 But as they afterwards related to me — 
 for I myself was not indeed sufficiently at- 
 tentive to it — Trajan, who had as yet, du- 
 ring all the occurrences of the day, preser- 
 ved unmoved the majestic serenity of his 
 countenance, when he observed this last 
 movement in the spirit of the assembly, be- 
 gan all at once to be very indignant, that 
 such things should occur in such a place, in 
 consequence of the appearance merely, and 
 the language, of a culprit and a Christian. 
 I confess it, that I was too much occupied 
 with gazing on Thraso, to have any leisure 
 for remarking the particulars of the deport- 
 ment of any other person present — no, not 
 even of Trajan himself; yet such had been
 
 289 
 
 the effect produced on me by the history 
 which the old man delivered of himself, 
 that I indeed was not prepared at the mo- 
 ment to find the strong arm of power di- 
 rected ruthlessly, and immediately against 
 him. At least, said I to myself, after such 
 a statement as this, the Prince will insti- 
 tute an inquiry among all those now pre- 
 sent in the capital, who are likely to be able 
 eitherto contradict essentially, or to confirm 
 essentially, the narrative in which this man 
 has thought fit to embody his only defence. 
 Many years indeed have elapsed since the 
 walls of Jerusalem were shattered by the 
 engines of Rome, and the golden gate of 
 its antique temple refused to be any protec- 
 tion against the furious soldiery of Titus. 
 Yet surely not a few of such as were pre- 
 sent in that proud host, must be still in life ; 
 yea, not a few of them must be now pre- 
 sent in the capital of the world. The old 
 spearman, with whom I talked in the guard- 
 room, and beside the ramparts underneath 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 290 
 
 which Thraso was imprisoned, he surely 
 cannot be the only witness that remains to 
 give testimony to the truth of that which 
 we have heard. He at least there is, and 
 we shall forthwith have him at least con- 
 fronted with Thraso. 
 
 Such were my own thoughts within me ; 
 judge, therefore, what was my astonish- 
 ment when I heard the trumpet sound, 
 and perceived that its note, without any 
 word being spoken, was at once received as 
 a sufficient warning by the priests and the 
 vestals, and the youths and the damsels, 
 and all those that had in any way been con- 
 nected with the service of the altar, that 
 had appeared on the arena, to retire from 
 the place whereon they stood, and leave 
 the old man there alone, to await the issue 
 of his destiny. Immediately on the signal 
 being given by the trumpet, did all these 
 begin to move away ; but although in si- 
 lence they had at first marched into the 
 Amphitheatre, they did not retire from it 
 in silence. Another hymn, on the contrary,
 
 891 
 
 in which also, as it seemed, different parts 
 were allotted for each different order of sing- 
 ers, was begun to be sung by them even be- 
 fore they had moved from the arena ; and 
 after the last of their procession had disap- 
 peared behind the wide folding-doors of the 
 Amphitheatre, we still heard their voices 
 chaunting solemnly until they had enter- 
 ed the great Temple of Isis and Serapis, 
 which, as I think, I have already said, 
 stands over against it, on the very brink of 
 the Esquiline. And while all were yet 
 listening to their singing, and to the di- 
 vine harmony of lutes, and other sweet- 
 sounding instruments, that accompanied 
 their voices, the slaves, and other attend- 
 ants upon the duties of the place, removed 
 every thing from the arena, except only the 
 altar and statue of Jupiter, which were still 
 left where they had been placed ; insomuch, 
 that ere they had made an end of singing, 
 and we of listening, the old man was left 
 alone there as at the beginning, when he
 
 £92 
 
 first came forth into the centre of the Am- 
 phitheatre. 
 
 But just when deep silence once more 
 prevailed all over the immense assembly, 
 and expectation was most intense concern- 
 ing what should be at length command- 
 ed by Trajan, it fell out so, that a little 
 bald ape escaped through the bars of one 
 of the grated doors, which were along the 
 boundary-wall of the arena, and leaping 
 forth upon the sand, began to skip up and 
 down, challenging, by all manner of fool- 
 ish gestures, the attention of those that sate 
 over against it, leaning down from the pa- 
 rapet. And immediately certain painted 
 courtezans, that were sitting not far from 
 thence, with gilded breasts and bright-co- 
 loured garlands, and all other gorgeous 
 trappings of the degradation of harlotry, 
 began to throw down apples and nuts to 
 the obscene creature, and to testify much 
 delight in the grimaces with which it re- 
 ceived them, hopping to and fro, and cast-
 
 293 
 
 ing them away, and then catching them 
 up again, with continual gibbering and 
 prating ; and no sooner did the rabble that 
 were above perceive these things, than they 
 all, as with one consent, began to applaud and 
 to shout loudly ; insomuch, that the vault- 
 ed vomitories and wide arches of entrance, 
 and all the marble walls of the spacious 
 Amphitheatre, re-echoed in a moment with 
 peals of laughter, and with every wild sound 
 of carelessness and merriment. While, in 
 the meantime, the African feeders and na- 
 ked gladiators, and all those hangers-on of 
 the Amphitheatre, whom we had seen in 
 the dark places down below, hearing now 
 the sounds that had arisen among the as- 
 sembly, began to shew themselves in crowds 
 from behind the same grated doors through 
 one of which the monkey had escaped, and 
 to partake in the mirth of the spectators, 
 and to whistle upon the creature, and to 
 excite it to new caperings, by their out- 
 cries and jeerings ; insomuch, that it seem- 
 ed as if the minds of all present were en-
 
 29* 
 
 tirely occupied with the pranks of this 
 brute ; arid that almost it was forgotten 
 amidst the tumult, not only for what pur- 
 pose all that solemn and stately pageantry 
 of priests and vestals had just been exhi- 
 bited before them ; but even that such a 
 being as Thraso was standing there upon 
 the same arena, whereon that moping ape 
 w^as diverting the multitude by its ridicu- 
 lous gestures. 
 
 Now, for myself, who had never before 
 looked upon any creature of this disgust- 
 ing tribe, and had gathered only some ge- 
 neral notion of its appearance, from the 
 treatises of the physiologists, and the nar- 
 ratives of travellers, I could not, indeed, 
 refuse to contemplate at first its motions, 
 with some curiosity and attention ; but of 
 a truth, I knew not, after the scene had 
 lasted for a little space, whether to be more 
 humbled within myself by the monkey's 
 filthy mimickings of the form and atti- 
 tudes of mankind, or by the display of bru- 
 tish heartlessness, which burst forth from
 
 295 
 
 all that countless multitude, while gazing 
 on that spectacle of humiliation. 
 
 But it was not until my eye fell again 
 on Thraso, who stood all this time solitary 
 and silent amidst the surrounding hubbub, 
 that my sorrow and indignation were the 
 greatest, and that I felt the deepest scorn 
 for the minds of those that filled the Am- 
 phitheatre around me. There stood the 
 old man even as before, with his arms fold- 
 ed in his gown, and his eyes resting on the 
 sand before him, pale, calm, and unmoved 
 in his meekness, even as if his ears had not 
 once received any sound of all the shout- 
 ings and the joyous laughters of thatunpi~ 
 tying rabble, that had come there to behold 
 him die. Once, indeed — it was but once — 
 I thought I could perceive that a slight 
 emotion of contempt wreathed for an in- 
 stant his thin and bloodless lips ; but it 
 seemed as if that were but the involuntary 
 and momentary passing over him of one 
 proud thought, and that he spurned it from
 
 296 
 
 him immediately, as a thing unworthy of 
 the resolute and determined mind of his in- 
 tegrity, choosing rather to array himself in 
 the divine armour of patience, than to op- 
 pose, with any weapon of human passion, 
 the insults heaped upon his head by the 
 cruel callousness of that degenerate congre- 
 gation of men. And, whether it were so, 
 that the sight of all this did not affect me 
 alone with such reflections, or only that 
 they in authority were afraid too much of 
 the day might be occupied with what form- 
 ed so unseemly an addition to the regular 
 and ordained business of the assembly, — 
 concerning this matter, I, indeed, cannot 
 pretend to offer any conjecture ; but so it 
 was, that while the uproar of mirth was 
 yet at its height, certain of the lictors that 
 were about the consular chairs, leapt down 
 into the arena, and beat the monkey back 
 again among the feeders, and other base 
 hirelings, that stood behind the grated doors 
 of which I have spoken. Whereupon there
 
 297 
 
 was at once an end of the tumult, and the 
 lictors having reascended to their places, 
 the eyes of all men there present began 
 once more to fix themselves upon Thraso 
 the Christian. 
 
 And he also, when he perceived that it 
 was so, and was sensible of the silence 
 that once more prevailed, it seemed as if 
 he, too, were aware that at last his ap- 
 pointed hour had come, and that he must 
 needs prepare himself in good earnest for 
 the abiding of the issue. For, instead of 
 continuing stedfast in his place, as he had 
 done during all the time he had as yet been 
 exposed there, it appeared as if now at 
 length, being swallowed up in the contem- 
 plation of his approaching fate, he had quite 
 forgotten all the rules he had laid down to 
 himself concerning his behaviour on the 
 arena. — Of a surety, I mean not to say that 
 he had now lost remembrance of the cou- 
 rage which hitherto he had manifested, — 
 or even, that any the least symptom of 
 n2
 
 298 
 
 changeableness was made visible upon his 
 countenance. But it seemed to me, of a 
 truth, that of such things as he had de- 
 termined upon within himself before he 
 came thither, touching the mere external 
 demeanour of his bodily frame, the memo- 
 ry now, in this final moment of expecta- 
 tion, had somewhat passed away ; for Thra- 
 so stood still no longer on the centre of 
 the arena ; but retaining his arms folded 
 as they had been, and his eyes fixed upon 
 the sand, he began to pace rapidly to and 
 fro, in presence of all the multitude — tra- 
 versing all the open space whereon he alone 
 now was, from side to side, without so much 
 as once looking up, or exhibiting any to- 
 ken that he was conscious of the presence 
 of any man. By and by, nevertheless, in 
 the deeper knittings of his brows, and in 
 the closer pressure of his extenuated lips, 
 and then again in the quivering of the 
 nerves and muscles upon the arms and legs 
 of the old man, as he moved to arid fro be-
 
 299 
 
 fore us, it was testified abundantly how 
 keenly the spirit was at work within ; the 
 strong soul wrestling, it may be, with some 
 last stirring temptations of the flesh, andthe 
 mind itself not altogether refusing to be- 
 tray its sympathy with the natural shud- 
 derings of the body. But the moment 
 that the herald of Trajan commanded at- 
 tention in the assembly, and that the Pre- 
 fect of the city, who had formerly spoken 
 unto him, began again to prepare himself 
 for speaking, that moment did the old man 
 appear to return at once again entirely to 
 himself; and he fixed his eyes upon the Pre- 
 fect with even the same stedfastness as when 
 he made his oration to Trajan, and the whole 
 assembly of the people. 
 
 " By all the gods," whispered Sabinus at 
 that moment into my ear, — " by all the 
 gods of Olympus, this old man is a true sol- 
 dier of Vespasian and of Titus. He will 
 die, Valerius, for this superstition, even 
 with the constancy of a Roman." 
 
 " With all the constancy of a philoso-
 
 300 
 
 pher, say rather," quoth Xerophrastes, who 
 had overheard his whisper — " yea, with all 
 the constancy of a philosopher. Of a sure- 
 ty, there must be some lessons of nobility 
 in this faith of the Jews." 
 
 " Now, speak not, but look at the old 
 man," interrupted Rubellia ; " the signal is 
 given for the executioner to come forth 
 upon the arena." 
 
 And I looked, and saw that the Prefect 
 of the city was standing up in his place, 
 immediately below the chair of Trajan, and 
 immediately he began to speak ; and he 
 said, first, looking towards the people,- — 
 " Let there be silence, and let no man stir 
 in this place until this matter be ended." 
 And then addressing himself, as it seemed, 
 toThraso, — "With all patience," proceeded 
 he, " have the words which this man chose 
 to utter in his defence, been listened unto ; 
 but it must be manifest to all men, that 
 they contain no shadow of apology, but ra- 
 ther afford the strongest confirmation of all 
 that had before been alleged against him.
 
 301 
 
 Instead of departing from his error, or of- 
 fering any extenuation of its magnitude, 
 the words of his address have tended only 
 to shew what was already well known to 
 all that have had any dealings with the 
 adherents of this blasphemous sect ; that 
 their obstinacy is as great as their atheism 
 is perverse ; and that no clemency can, with- 
 out blame, be extended to their wilfulness, 
 neither to the scorn wherewith they are re- 
 solved to regard all things sacred. Never- 
 theless, inquiry has been made, and confir- 
 mation has been given, by those who were 
 present in the wars of the Divine Titus, as 
 to that which this man hath said concern- 
 ing his own service in the Roman host, 
 throughout the glorious campaign of Pales- 
 tine, and the siege of the city of the Jews. 
 For which service, it hath seemed right 
 unto Caesar, Ever-Merciful, that no cir- 
 cumstance of needless shame be added 
 unto the death by which this Christian 
 must now expiate before all them who have 
 seen his contempt of the sacrifice of Jupi-
 
 302 
 
 piter, and heard his words of blasphemy 
 against all the gods, the guilt of which, it 
 is manifest to all, he hath been justly and 
 necessarily accused. Let those, therefore, 
 who had been commanded to bring forth a 
 tiger, depart now with their beast, and let 
 this man be beheaded before the Altar of 
 Jupiter ; after which, for this day, the as- 
 sembly will disperse : for, until the morrow, 
 the spectacle of the wild animals, which the 
 Prince hath prepared, must be deferred." 
 
 And when he had said so, the Prefect 
 made his obeisance again to Csesar, and sate 
 down in his place, and immediately one of 
 the doors of the arena was flung open, and 
 there entered some slaves, bearing a wood- 
 en block upon their shoulders, behind whom 
 followed also certain ill-favoured blacks, 
 out of the company of African gladiators, 
 one of whom carried bare, in his hand, a 
 long and heavy sword, the surface of which 
 glittered brightly as he moved, even as if 
 it had been newly sharpened and burnish- 
 ed for the occasion. Seeing all which fatal
 
 303 
 
 preparations, Thraso immediately flung 
 aside the long cloak in which hitherto his 
 arms, and all his body, had been wrapped ; 
 and after regarding those that had come in 
 for a moment with a stedfast eye, he turn- 
 ed himself to the place where the Prefect 
 was sitting, as if he had yet one word to say 
 before he should submit himself unto the 
 sword of the African ; whereupon the Pre- 
 fect said, — " If the prisoner hath yet any 
 thing to offer, it is not too late for mercy — 
 Let him speak quickly." 
 
 " I have nothing more to offer, O Ro- 
 mans !" answered the old man, " as con- 
 cerning that of which I have spoken before. 
 But since already some favour has been ex- 
 tended to me by reason of my services in 
 the army of Ceesar, perhaps so neither will 
 this be refused, that my body should be 
 given to such as shall ask for it, that it may 
 be treated without indignity after my soul 
 is released from its habitation." 
 
 " It is granted," replied the Prefect.— 
 " Is there any thing more ?" 
 
 7
 
 304 
 
 "There is nothing," said the old man; 
 " this is all I had to ask of you." 
 
 With that the block, being already fixed 
 upon the sand immediately in front of the 
 Altar of Jupiter, one of the Africans mo- 
 ved towards Thraso, as if to conduct him 
 to the place where it behoved him to kneel ; 
 but he, observing what was his intention, 
 forthwith prevented him, and walked, of 
 himself, steadily close up to him in whose 
 hand the sword was unsheathed. Being 
 come thither, the old man immediately took 
 his station over against the block, and ha- 
 ving for a moment placed his hand upon 
 his eyes, and moved his lips, as it seemed, 
 in fervent supplication, dropped his one 
 knee on the ground, and stretched forth his 
 neck towards the block ; but suddenly, af- 
 ter he had done so, he sprung again upon 
 his feet, and began to gaze with a keen eye 
 all around the assembly, as if he were in 
 search of some one to whom he had some- 
 thing to say, the which he could not die 
 without speaking. In vain, however, as it 
 4
 
 S05 
 
 appeared, did he make this endeavour ; for 
 after a little space, he shook his head des- 
 pairingly, and gave over the stedfastness of 
 his look. Nevertheless, he lifted up his 
 voice, and, surveying once more the whole 
 face of the Amphitheatre round about, from 
 side to side, said audibly, — " There is one 
 here who made last night a promise to me 
 in my dungeon. I cannot see him where 
 he is ; but I conjure him to take good heed, 
 and execute, as he is a man and a Roman, 
 all those things which he said to me he would 
 do." - Now, when I heard him say so, I well 
 knew within myself that it was for me only 
 his eye had been searching, and half did I 
 arise from my seat, that he might see I was 
 there, and observe my resolution to keep the 
 faith I had plighted voluntarily to him in 
 his prison. But Sabinus, who had not wit- 
 nessed without attention the deep interest 
 with which I had all along been contempla- 
 ting the behaviour of the old man, called to 
 mind, without difficulty, how he had left
 
 306 
 
 me the night before to do his errand to 
 Thraso, and comprehending something of 
 that which was meant, held me firm upon 
 the bench, whispering at the same time, in 
 an earnest manner, " As you regard me, 
 Valerius, and as you regard your own safe- 
 ty, be still." 
 
 Being constrained after this manner, I 
 neither rose up, nor made any attempt to 
 attract the attention of Thraso—- for which 
 forbearance, I confess to you, I have since 
 that day undergone the visitation of not a 
 few bitter thoughts — but remained steadily 
 in my place, while the old man once more 
 addressed himself to kneel down upon the 
 block that was before him. Calmly now at 
 length did he kneel, and with much com- 
 posure did he place himself. Yet, before 
 the gladiator was ready to strike, he lifted 
 up his head once again, and gazed upwards 
 for a moment towards heaven, with such a 
 countenance of faith and hope, that there 
 went through all the assembly a murmur.
 
 307 
 
 as it were, and a stirring breath of admira- 
 tion. Then bowed he for the last time 
 his grey hairs, and almost before he had 
 rested his neck upon the tree, the strong 
 sword of the African smote thereon with 
 merciful fierceness, and the headless trunk 
 falling backwards upon the sand, the blood 
 spouted forth in a gushing stream, and 
 sprinkled all over with red drops the base 
 of the statue of Jupiter Capitolinus, and the 
 surface of the marble altar, whereupon the 
 sacrifice of the Flamens had that day been 
 offered. 
 
 The executioner having made an end of 
 his duty, forthwith wiped his sword from 
 the blood of the Christian, and advancing 
 towards the seats of the magistrates, claim- 
 ed the largess that was due to him from the 
 Prince's bounty, by reason of that which he 
 had done, — which when he had received, 
 as is the custom, he and all his attendants 
 withdrew immediately from the arena ; the 
 Emperor at the same moment, and the
 
 308 
 
 Consulars, and all they that were about 
 him, departing also themselves from the 
 assembly ; and the whole Amphitheatre 
 speedily being rilled with the clamours of 
 an universal upbreaking and dispersion of 
 that great multitude. 
 
 But as for us that had been sitting with 
 Rubellia, we could by no means be prevail- 
 ed with to accept of the lady's invitation to 
 go home with her to supper in the Subur- 
 ra ; for the fatigue, which had attended the 
 gazing on so many, and so various sorts of 
 spectacles, was not inconsiderable, and the 
 day being already far spent, we were all 
 willing to retire, as speedily as might be, 
 to our respective places of abode. As for 
 me, from Sabinus also, and Xerophrastes 
 and Sextus himself, I suddenly found my- 
 self separated, by reason of a sudden rush- 
 ing among the crowd that surrounded the 
 gates of the Amphitheatre ; so that after 
 waiting there for a space, in expectation of 
 being joined to them again, I perceived that
 
 309 
 
 I must of necessity return homewards en- 
 tirely by myself. 
 
 Neither, after a moment, was I sorry that 
 the thing had so fallen out ; for, of a truth, 
 the circumstances which had occurred in 
 my presence, had taken such possession of 
 my mind, that I was sensible a short time 
 spent by myself was very needful for the 
 regaining of my usual manner of converse. 
 Nay, so much was I occupied with those 
 things, that even after having come as far 
 as the Arch of Titus, I could not refrain 
 from turning back, and re-entering the 
 walls of the Amphitheatre, that I might 
 once more behold the place on which that 
 old man bad died. But when I had come 
 into the edifice, I found it now almost 
 utterly deserted of all the multitudes that 
 had filled it ; insomuch, that, walking over 
 from bench to bench, my steps sounded 
 as in a solitary place. I saw from a dis- 
 tance the body of Thraso still lying on 
 the spot where it had fallen ; but while I
 
 310 
 
 was yet looking thereon, and had some 
 purpose to approach nearer, there enter- 
 ed, by one of the private passages, those 
 friends of his to whom he had entreated 
 that his body might be given. Three men 
 and three women were all they that came 
 for that mournful office ; but both men and 
 women of them had their faces wrapped in 
 their garments, so that who they were, nei- 
 ther I, nor any one else, could be permitted 
 to discover. Having lifted up the body 
 and the head, they placed them together 
 reverently in a linen-sheet, and then laying 
 that upon a humble bier, they walked away 
 with their sad burden, and disappeared from 
 my view by the same postern through which 
 they had entered at first upon the arena. 
 But when they had gone away, the slaves 
 of the edifice speedily came in to put the 
 sand, and all other things therein, in order ; 
 and seeing their labour commenced, I also 
 was at length satisfied to take my final de- 
 parture.
 
 311 
 
 The sun had already been long gone down, 
 ere I, rilled with many melancholy medita- 
 tions, and well nigh spent utterly with the 
 weariness of a sleepless night and a thought- 
 ful day, reached at length the Martian 
 Field, and entered once more the hospi- 
 table mansion of my kinsman. 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 Edinburgh : 
 Printed by James Ballantyne and Co.