Coelia was conducted back to the cell in which she had before been confined, beneath the floor of the temple, where only the coarsest viands were allowed her to sustain nature. She was guarded night and day by two vestals, who were directed to summon assistance should they require it. Coecus was satisfied that the death of the vestal would prove to the multitude that the ancient religion of Rome was still paramount, notwithstanding the predilections of the emperor in favour of Christianity, and the privileges he was inclined to grant to the Nazarenes. He therefore hardened his heart against all feeling of pity at the terrible fate about to be inflicted on the innocent maiden, and now prepared, with all the energy of his nature, to make arrangements for the grand procession about to take place, and which he had resolved should precede the cruel ceremony he had determined to carry out. He was well aware that the Emperor Constantine would forbid so barbarous an act; but as he was engaged in the East in building his new city, it was impossible for him to hear of it for a long time to come, and although, when he became cognisant of what had occurred, he would undoubtedly blame the pontiffs, Coecus believed that he and the other members of the college had yet sufficient influence in Rome to set even Augustus himself at defiance.
The day broke bright and beautiful. All the altars in the temples and the shrines in the streets were gaily decorated with wreaths and flowers; while banners and gaily-coloured cloths were hung out from the windows, or over the walls of the private houses, in the streets through which the procession was to pass. As usual, numbers of religious mendicants—belonging to a brotherhood devoted to begging—with huge satchels on their backs, and figures of gods or demigods in their hands, were on foot, eager to collect contributions from the multitude assembled on the occasion. The members of several other heathen brotherhoods also might have been seen hurrying through the city, to take their part in the spectacle.
Now the procession streamed forth from the temple of Flora, which formed one of a line of magnificent temples extending from the Flavian amphitheatre to the north of the Palatine and Capitoline hills—that of Rome and Venus being the most easterly, and nearest to the amphitheatre. As it appeared, shouts of joy and applause were raised by the multitude. There had been no lack of persons ready to perform the duty of carrying the banners and figures of the gods and the goddesses. Coecus had also secured the assistance of as large a number of the female part of the population as he could collect, for he believed that could he keep them attached to the old faith, there would be less danger of their husbands becoming its opponents. Some hundreds of dames and damsels dressed in white, their heads adorned with glittering jewels and bright wreaths, issued from the temple, scattering handfuls of flowers before and around them. Bands of musicians performed their most lively airs suited to the occasion; vast numbers of young children, dressed likewise in white, with floral ornaments, chanted at intervals hymns in honour of the goddess. Priests also, of numerous temples, with shorn crowns, there were, carrying banners or figures of the gods they served, or sacred relics. The heathen magistrates and officers of state had willingly consented to attend and exhibit themselves in the procession, although the Christians had universally refused, under any pretence, to take a part in the idolatrous performance. Coecus, as he watched the pageant winding its enormous length along the streets, the banners and gilded statues glittering in the sun, before he took his accustomed place with his brother pontiffs, felt satisfied that the larger portion of the population of Rome still sided with them.
Gaius alone, as he walked along, muttered not a few expressions of discontent. “To say the least of it, these processions are a bore,” he grumbled. “They may please the mob, but sensible men ridicule them; and we who superintend them, and have thus to parade through the streets, have become the laughing-stock of all the wise men and philosophers. It will in no way benefit us, notwithstanding the trouble we take in the matter: how completely I have failed of convincing my young nephew of the advisability of the worship of the immortal gods his running away and refusing to return is strong evidence. As to putting to death this poor girl Coelia, I do not half like it. The emperor will visit us with his anger should her Christian friends prove her innocence, as they are sure to attempt doing. They are wonderfully active in defending their own friends, when they can do so by means of the law, without having recourse to force. This may be on account of their mean and timid spirits; though it is said that they fight well in battle, and that the emperor places great dependence on their courage and fidelity. Well, well, ‘Times change, and we must change with them,’ as one of our poets sings; but for my part I would rather have retained our old-fashioned ways. What has endured so long must be the best. The oldest religion cannot but be the right one, at all events most suited to the multitude, while it has not failed to bring a copious revenue into our coffers, and that, after all, is the matter of chief consequence to us. All the accounts, however, which come from Byzantium show that Augustus is becoming more and more inclined to favour these Christians. I wish that Coecus hid not been so obstinate, and would at once have consented to abandon our failing cause.”
When passing close to the Arch of Constantino, which had been erected after the visit of the emperor to Rome close to the Flavian amphitheatre, he glanced up at it with a look of contempt. “What can be expected of our Romans nowadays, when the whole architectural talent of our city can only produce a monstrosity like that!” he observed to a brother pontiff walking next to him. “‘The times are changed, and we must change with them,’” he repeated, “if we wish to retain our position.”
The other pontiff only shook his head, and groaned.