Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year

THE STRUGGLE IN THE ARENA

Senators, vestals, Cæsar, the Augustans, and the people
gazed with the delight of experts at his mighty limbs as 15
large as tree trunks, at his breast as large as two shields
joined together, and his arms of a Hercules. The murmur
rose every instant. For those multitudes there could be
no higher pleasure than to look at those muscles in play
in the exertion of a struggle. The murmur rose to shouts,
and eager questions were put: Where did the people live 5
who could produce such a giant?

He stood there, in the middle of the amphitheater, naked,
more like a stone colossus than a man, with a collected
expression, and at the same time the sad look of a barbarian;
and while surveying the empty arena, he gazed 10
wonderingly with his blue childlike eyes, now at the spectators,
now at Cæsar, now at the grating of the cunicula,
whence, as he thought, his executioners would come.

At that moment when he stepped into the arena his
simple heart was beating for the last time with the hope 15
that perhaps a cross was waiting for him; but when he
saw neither the cross nor the hole in which it might be put,
he thought that he was unworthy of such favor—that he
would find death in another way, and surely from wild
beasts. He was unarmed, and had determined to die as 20
became a confessor of the "Lamb," peacefully and patiently.
Meanwhile he wished to pray once more to the
Savior; so he knelt on the arena, joined his hands, and
raised his eyes toward the stars which were glittering in the
lofty opening of the amphitheater. 25

That act displeased the crowds. They had had enough
of those Christians who died like sheep. They understood
that if the giant would not defend himself the spectacle
would be a failure. Here and there hisses were heard.
Some began to cry for scourgers, whose office it was to 30
lash combatants unwilling to fight. But soon all had
grown silent, for no one knew what was waiting for the
giant, nor whether he would not be ready to struggle when
he met death eye to eye.

In fact, they had not long to wait. Suddenly the shrill
sound of brazen trumpets was heard, and at that signal a
grating opposite Cæsar's podium was opened, and into the 5
arena rushed, amid shouts of beast keepers, an enormous
German aurochs, bearing on his head the naked body of a
woman.

"Lygia! Lygia!" cried Vinicius.

Then he seized his hair near the temples, squirmed like a10
man who feels a sharp dart in his body, and began to
repeat in hoarse accents:

"I believe! I believe! O Christ, a miracle!"

And he did not even feel that Petronius covered his
head that moment with the toga. It seemed to him that 15
death or pain had closed his eyes. He did not look, he did
not see. The feeling of some awful emptiness possessed him.
In his head there remained not a thought; his lips merely
repeated, as if in madness,

"I believe! I believe! I believe!" 20

This time the amphitheater was silent. The Augustans
rose in their places, as one man, for in the arena something
uncommon had happened. That Lygian, obedient and
ready to die, when he saw his queen on the horns of the
wild beast sprang up as if touched by living fire, and 25
bending forward he ran at the raging animal.

From all breasts a sudden cry of amazement was heard,
after which came deep silence.

The Lygian fell on the raging bull in a twinkle, and seized
him by the horns. 30

"Look!" cried Petronius, snatching the toga from the
head of Vinicius.

The latter rose; his face was as pale as linen, and he looked
into the arena with a glassy, vacant stare.

All breasts ceased to breathe. In the amphitheater a fly
might be heard on the wing. People could not believe their
own eyes. Since Rome was Rome, no one had seen such a 5
spectacle.

The Lygian held the wild beast by the horns. The man's
feet sank in the sand to his ankles, his back was bent like a
drawn bow, his head was hidden between his shoulders, on
his arms the muscles came out so that the skin almost 10
burst from their pressure; but he had stopped the bull in
his tracks. And the man and the beast remained so still
that the spectators thought themselves looking at a picture
showing a deed of Hercules or Theseus, or a group hewn
from stone. 15

But in that apparent repose there was a tremendous
exertion of two struggling forces. The bull sank his feet
as well as did the man in the sand, and his dark, shaggy
body was curved so that it seemed a gigantic ball.
Which of the two would fail first, which would fall first,—that 20
was the question for those spectators enamored of such
struggles; a question which at that moment meant more
for them than their own fate, than all Rome and its lordship
over the world.

That Lygian was in their eyes then a demigod worthy of 25
honor and statues. Cæsar himself stood up as well as
others. He and Tigellinus, hearing of the man's strength,
had arranged this spectacle purposely, and said to each
other with a jeer, "Let that slayer of Croton kill the
bull which we choose for him"; so they looked now with 30
amazement at that picture as if not believing that it
could be real.

In the amphitheater were men who had raised their
arms and remained in that posture. Sweat covered the
faces of others, as if they themselves were struggling with
the beast. In the Circus nothing was heard save the
sound of flame in the lamps, and the crackle of bits of coal 5
as they dropped from the torches. Their voices died on
the lips of the spectators, but their hearts were beating
in their breasts as if to split them. It seemed to all that
the struggle was lasting for ages. But the man and the
beast continued on in their monstrous exertion; one 10
might have said that they were planted in the earth.

Meanwhile a dull roar resembling a groan was heard from
the arena, after which a brief shout was wrested from every
breast, and again there was silence. People thought
themselves dreaming till the enormous head of the bull 15
began to turn in the iron hands of the barbarian. The
face, neck, and arms of the Lygian grew purple; his back
bent still more. It was clear that he was rallying the
remnant of his superhuman strength, but that he could
not last long. 20

Duller and duller, hoarser and hoarser, more and more
painful grew the groan of the bull as it mingled with the
whistling breath from the breast of the giant. The head of
the beast turned more and more, and from his jaws came a
long, foaming tongue. 25

A moment more, and to the ears of spectators sitting
nearer came as it were the crack of breaking bones; then the
beast rolled on the earth with his neck twisted in death.

The giant removed in a twinkle the ropes from the horns
of the bull, and, raising the maiden, began to breathe 30
hurriedly. His face became pale, his hair stuck together
from sweat, his shoulders and arms seemed flooded with
water. For a moment he stood as if only half conscious;
then he raised his eyes and looked at the spectators.

The amphitheater had gone wild.

The walls of the building were trembling from the roar of
tens of thousands of people. Since the beginning of spectacles 5
there was no memory of such excitement. Those
who were sitting on the highest rows came down, crowding
in the passages between benches to look more nearly at the
strong man. Everywhere were heard cries for mercy,
passionate and persistent, which soon turned into one 10
unbroken thunder. That giant had become dear to those
people enamored of physical strength; he was the first
personage in Rome.

He understood that the multitudes were striving to grant
him his life and restore him his freedom, but clearly his15
thought was not on himself alone. He looked around
awhile; then approached Cæsar's podium, and holding
the body of the maiden on his outstretched arms, raised his
eyes with entreaty, as if to say,

"Have mercy on her! Save the maiden. I did that for 20
her sake!"

The spectators understood perfectly what he wanted.
At sight of the unconscious maiden, who near the enormous
Lygian seemed a child, emotion seized the multitude of
senators and knights. Her slender form, as white as if 25
chiseled from alabaster, her fainting, the dreadful danger
from which the giant had freed her, and finally her beauty
and attachment had moved every heart. Some thought
the man a father begging mercy for his child. Pity burst
forth suddenly, like a flame. They had had blood, death, 30
and torture in sufficiency. Voices choked with tears began
to entreat mercy for both.

Meanwhile, Ursus, holding the girl in his arms, moved
around the arena, and with his eyes and with motions begged
her life for her. Now Vinicius started up from his seat,
sprang over the barrier which separated the front places
from the arena, and, running to Lygia, covered her naked 5
body with his toga.

Then he tore apart the tunic on his breast, laid bare the
scars left by wounds received in the Armenian war, and
stretched out his hands to the audience.

Then the enthusiasm of the multitude passed everything 10
seen in a circus before. The crowd stamped and howled.
Voices calling for mercy grew simply terrible. People not
only took the part of the athlete, but rose in defense of the
soldier, the maiden, their love. Thousands of spectators
turned to Cæsar with flashes of anger in their eyes and with 15
clinched fists.

But Cæsar halted and hesitated. Against Vinicius he
had no hatred indeed, and the death of Lygia did not
concern him; but he preferred to see the body of the maiden
rent by the horns of the bull or torn by the claws of beasts. 20
His cruelty, his deformed imagination and deformed desires,
found a kind of delight in such spectacles. And now the
people wanted to rob him. Hence anger appeared on his
bloated face. Self-love also would not let him yield to the
wish of the multitude, and still he did not dare to oppose 25
it, through his inborn cowardice.

So he gazed around to see if, among the Augustans at
least, he could not find fingers turned down in sign of death.
But Petronius held up his hand, and looked almost challengingly
into Nero's face. Vestinius, superstitious but 30
inclined to enthusiasm, a man who feared ghosts but not
the living, gave a sign for mercy also.

Then Nero turned to the place where command over the
pretorians was held by the stern Subrius Flavius, hitherto
devoted with whole soul to him, and saw something unusual.
The face of the old tribune was stern, but covered with
tears, and he was holding his hand up in sign of mercy. 5

Now rage began to possess the multitude. Dust rose
from beneath the stamping feet, and filled the amphitheater.
In the midst of shouts were heard cries: "Ahenobarbus!
Matricide! Incendiary!"

Nero was alarmed. The people were absolute lords in the 10
Circus. He wanted their favor on his side against the
senate and the patricians, and especially after the burning
of Rome he strove by all means to win it, and turn their
anger against the Christians. He understood, besides,
that to oppose longer was simply dangerous. A disturbance15
begun in the Circus might seize the whole city, and have
results incalculable. And seeing everywhere frowning brows,
moved faces, and eyes fixed on him, he gave the sign for
mercy.

—Quo Vadis.

POLONIUS'S ADVICE TO HIS SON

By William Shakespeare

—Hamlet.

MERCY

By William Shakespeare

—The Merchant of Venice.

GOOD BOOKS YOU SHOULD KNOW

The following list of book titles suggests some good library browsing for you. Try reading one good book a week outside of school hours. Aside from the immediate pleasure and knowledge derived, you will thus establish an invaluable habit and set up for yourself standards of literary judgment.