Mercury signed to a servant, who stood in the doorway with a shining axe in his hand, ready to give the ‘coup de grace’ to the victim. One mighty stroke—as a butcher might fell an ox—and all was over. Immediately a second ruffian came forward with a harpoon in his hand. He struck it into the bleeding corpse, with brutal force, and the remains of the hapless Marcus were dragged away to the Porta Libitinensis—the gate of the dead.
The whole scene was repeated twice more, and in neither case did the people respite the conquered victim. They seemed possessed with a special blood-thirstiness. It was not till the fourth scene, a tilting-match, when a rider, who was a favorite with the women, happened to be unhorsed, that their thumbs were turned up, so that the admired and splendid champion, who had so often proved victorious and the hero of many a gallant adventure, should be respited to achieve future deeds of valor. His antagonist’s lance had pierced his thigh; cries of “Habet,”[149] resounded from the upper galleries, and when the women had pronounced in his favor, three slaves came forward and carried him away with the utmost care.
These single combats on foot and horseback were only introductory. The fights with wild beasts were now to begin. When the servants had strewn the arena with sand[150] and, so far as possible, hidden the traces of blood, the master of the ceremonies appeared once more, and proclaimed: “The criminal, Calenus, condemned as a Nazarene, will fight with a mountain lion from Gaetulia.”
“Calenus, a wretch—one of the brood of traitors,[151] and a contemner of the gods!” said the stranger behind Lycoris.
The door opened, and two slaves led forward the tall, solemn figure of the sightless man, with his long snow-white hair. He held in his hands a wooden cross, the symbol of his faith, the only weapon that the tyrant’s ferocity had vouchsafed him.
“He was a soldier,” their unknown informant whispered, “and often punished for his insubordination. Let us see how he will behave himself now!”
“How can he fight?” said Lycoris, “he is blind. Only see how helplessly he stands there; he does not know which way to turn.”
“Blindness cannot save a criminal from punishment.”
“Punishment, by all means; but the master of the ceremonies said a fight!”
“Well, and why not?” said the young man scornfully. “The Nazarenes declare, that their cross is a mighty weapon, and that their God shows them a path even in darkness.”