rom the depth
of their breasts Raised tearful cries to thee, Imploring pity on
their offspring. Those complaints might have moved a stone, But to the
suffering of people Thou, O Smintheus, wert less feeling than a stone!"

The song passed gradually into an elegy, plaintive and full of pain.
In the Circus there was silence. After a while Caesar, himself affected,
sang on,--

"With the sound of thy heavenly lyre Thou couldst drown the wailing, The
lament of hearts. At the sad sound of this song The eye to-day is filled
with tears, As a flower is filled with dew, But who can raise from dust
and ashes That day of fire, disaster, ruin? O Smintheus, where wert thou
then?"

Here his voice quivered and his eyes grew moist. Tears appeared on the
lids of the vestals; the people listened in silence before they burst
into a long unbroken storm of applause.

Meanwhile from outside through the vomitoria came the sound of creaking
vehicles on which were placed the bloody remnants of Christians, men,
women, and children, to be taken to the pits called "puticuli."

But the Apostle Peter seized his trembling white head with his hands,
and cried in spirit,--

"O Lord, O Lord! to whom hast Thou given rule over the earth, and why
wilt Thou found in this place Thy capital?"

Chapter LVI

THE sun had lowered toward its setting, and seemed to dissolve in the
red of the evening. The spectacle was finished. Crowds were leaving the
amphitheatre and pouring out to the city through the passages called
vomitoria. Only Augustians delayed; they were waiting for the stream
of people to pass. They had all left their seats and assembled at
the podium, in which Caesar appeared again to hear praises. Though the
spectators had not spared plaudits at the end of the song, Nero was not
satisfied; he had looked for enthusiasm touching on frenzy. In vain did
hymns of praise sound in his ears; in vain did vestals kiss his "divine"
hand, and while doing so Rubria bent till her reddish hair touched his
breast. Nero was not satisfied, and could not hide the fact. He was
astonished and also disturbed because Petronius was silent. Some
flattering and pointed word from his mouth would have been a great
consolation at that moment. Unable at last to restrain himself, Caesar
beckoned to the arbiter.

"Speak," said he, when Petronius entered the podium.

"I am silent," answered Petronius, coldly, "for I cannot find words.
Thou hast surpassed thyself."