that these represent the flesh and blood of Christ. After the meal, they kiss each other, but there is nothing wrong in that.”
Nero waved my words away as if brushing off a fly.
“Don’t annoy me, Manilianus,” he said. “We all know that you’re not exactly a genius, even if you have some good qualities. The Christians have pulled wool over your eyes.”
“Exactly,” said Tigellinus. “Our Minutus is much too credulous. The Christian magicians have distorted his eyes. I myself was in some considerable difficulties during the interrogations. Outwardly they show a meek face, seem respectable and entice the poor by offering them free meals. But whoever pursues their mysteries exposes himself to their magic.”
The only thing we achieved was that Nero realized that two or three thousand prisoners would suffice for his show, and he gave Tigellinus authority to release those who disclaimed their superstition as long as there would be sufficient members left for a trial.
“Let us meanwhile think up something pleasant to amuse the people,” he suggested. “Tigellinus, you must see to it that there are also some healthy girls and youths for the theater performance and not just branded slaves.”
When I went back to the Praetorian camp with Tigellinus, I thought that Nero was considering some funny and shameful theater performance as a punishment for most of the Christians, and then releasing them after a few had been executed to satisfy the people.
Tigellinus said nothing. He had his own plans, although I did not know it at the time.
We went out on to the parade ground. The prisoners were exhausted by the sun, for it was a hot autumn day. They had received food and water from the city, but it had not sufficed for them all. Many who were hungry and thirsty asked to be allowed to provide themselves with food, as the laws and custom permitted.
When Tigellinus caught sight of a respectable man in a toga, he stopped and spoke to him in a friendly way.
“Did you take part in setting Rome on fire?” he asked, and on receiving a negative reply, he said, “Have you been punished for any shameful crime before?” When he had received a satisfactory reply, he then cried out delightedly, “Good! You look like an honorable man. You can go free if you promise to disclaim the Christians’ pernicious beliefs. I suppose you’ve got a hundred sesterces to pay for the costs of arrest?”
But he was unpleasantly surprised, and to tell the truth, I was surprised too, to hear one after the other calmly reply that they could not deny Christ, who had saved them from their sins and called them to his kingdom. Otherwise they said they would be glad to go home and pay fifty, a hundred, or even five hundred sesterces to cover the expense they had caused the State.
Finally Tigellinus was in such a hurry to achieve something that he turned a deaf ear and muttered the question: “You forswear Christ then, don’t you?” and answered every denial with a hasty: “Good, then you can go.” He even ceased demanding bribes, as long as the more respectable prisoners would agree to go away. But many of them were so stubborn that they secredy turned back to the parade ground and hid themselves among the other Christians.
Meanwhile Tigellinus had the Praetorians on duty in die city spread it about that he was thinking of having the people responsible for the fire of Rome marched right through the ruins along the via Sacra to the other side of the river, where they would be detained in Nero’s circus. He let it be known to the guards that he had no objections if one or two prisoners were allowed to escape into the crowd on the way. Some of the older people and the weaker women complained that it was a long way, but Tigellinus swore jestingly that he could not provide sedans for everyone for every little promenade.
A howling mob assembled along the road and threw dirt and stones at the Christians, but the procession turned out to be so unimaginably long that even the worst troublemakers’ tired long before the end was in sight. I myself rode back and forth along the procession and saw to it that the Praetorians did their duty and protected the prisoners from the crowd.
Some of them struck the prisoners so hard that they remained lying on the ground in their own blood, but when we reached the via Sacra and the sky turned red and the shadows lengthened, a strange silence descended on the crowds along the wayside. It was as if the whole city had for one moment fallen into a ghost-like silence. The Praetorians looked anxiously around, for among them a rumor had spread that the sky would open and Christ would step down in his glory to protect his people.
Exhausted from hunger, thirst and lack of sleep, many of the Christians sat down on the edge of the road when their legs would no longer carry them, but they were not pestered any longer. They called out after the others, begging not to be left behind and deprived of their share of Christ’s joy. So the more enterprising among the Christians hired some of the wagons used to cart rubble and building stone, and then put those who had fallen by the wayside into them. Soon the procession was being followed by a hundred or so carts so that no one need be left behind. Tigellinus did nothing to stop this, but he swore that the Christians were more obdurate in their superstition than he ever would have imagined.
He made a mistake when he led the procession across Aesculapius island and the Jewish part of Vatican. Dusk had already fallen and when the crowd following the procession saw the Jews, they again became unruly, began to ill-treat them and break into Jewish houses for loot. Tigellinus had to order most of the procession’s escort to restore order, so the stream of Christians had to make their own way to the circus on Vatican.
I heard the men and women at the head of the procession ask one another whether they were going the right way. Some went astray in the darkness of Agrippina’s gardens, but toward the morning, everyone had somehow found his way to the circus. It was said that not a single Christian had run away, but I find that hard to believe. As darkness fell and the fights raged in the fourteenth sector of the city, it would have been a simple matter for anyone to slip away home.
Naturally there was not enough room for that number of people in the cellars and stables, and many had to lie down on the arena sand. Tigellinus allowed them to make up beds from the hay store and he had the water pipes in the stables opened for them. This was not from consideration, but because he as a Roman was responsible for the Christians.
Some children who had lost their parents and some girls whom the Praetorians had singled out of the crowd to defile, thus fulfilling the demands of Roman law that no virgin can be condemned to physical punishment, I sternly commantled to go home, in the name of Christ, for otherwise they would not have obeyed me. I was not the only one who in the confusion was forced to appeal to Christ. I overheard the Praetorians in charge of the queues for water clumsily giving their orders in the name of Christ. Otherwise they would never have kept any order at all.
Depressed, I returned to Tigellinus and we again reported to Nero on Esquiline.
“Where have you been?” Nero said impatiently when he saw me. “Just when I needed you for once. Tell me what you’ve got in the way of wild animals in the menagerie?”
I told him the choice was very limited, for we had been forced to reduce the number of animals because of the water and fodder shortages caused by the fire. For hunting game, I explained unsuspectingly, I had virtually nothing except Hyrcanian bison and harrier hounds. Sabina had her lions, of course.
“But,” I said gloomily, “with the crushing new water taxes, I don’t think we’ll be able to increase our stock of animals.”
“During my reign,” said Nero, “I have been accused of being too mild and of widening the gap still further between the people and the former great virtues of Rome. So for once, they will have what they want, however distasteful I personally think it is. But the Christians’ terrible crime and their enduring hatred of mankind justify it. So they’ll go to the wild animals. I’ve already gone through the myths to find ideas for suitable tableaux. Fifty virgins can be the Danaides and fifty youths their menfolk. Dirce was the one who was tied to the horns of a bull.”
“But,” I protested, “during your reign, not even the worst criminals have been condemned to the wild animals. I thought we’d finished with that kind of barbaric custom. I’m not prepared for that sort of thing. I haven’t the necessary wild animals. No, I refuse to consider it.”
Nero’s neck swelled with rage.
“Rome is mistaken if she thinks I’m afraid to see blood in the sand,” he cried. “You will do as I say. Whoever represents Dirce shall be tied to the horns of the bison. The hounds can tear a hundred or so to pieces.”
“But, my lord,” I said. “They are trained to hunt only wild animals. They won’t touch human beings.” After a moment’s thought, I added cautiously: “Of course, we could arm the prisoners and let them hunt the bison with the
