The party of our friends sat down, three or four of them on a prostrate8 column, another on a shapeless lump of marble, once a Roman altar; others on the steps of one of the Christian9 shrines10. Goths and barbarians12 though they were, they chatted as gayly together as if they belonged to the gentle and pleasant race of people who now inhabit Italy. There was much pastime and gayety just then in the area of the Coliseum, where so many gladiators and Wild beasts had fought and died, and where so much blood of Christian martyrs13 had been lapped up by that fiercest of wild beasts, the Roman populace of yore. Some youths and maidens14 were running merry races across the open space, and playing at hide and seek a little way within the duskiness of the ground tier of arches, whence now and then you could hear the half-shriek, halflaugh of a frolicsome15 girl, whom the shadow had betrayed into a young man’s arms. Elder groups were seated on the fragments of pillars and blocks of marble that lay round the verge16 of the arena17, talking in the quick, short ripple18 of the Italian tongue. On the steps of the great black cross in the centre of the Coliseum sat a party singing scraps19 of songs, with much laughter and merriment between the stanzas20.
It was a strange place for song and mirth. That black cross marks one of the special blood-spots of the earth where, thousands of times over, the dying gladiator fell, and more of human agony has been endured for the mere21 pastime of the multitude than on the breadth of many battlefields. From all this crime and suffering, however, the spot has derived22 a more than common sanctity. An inscription23 promises seven years’ indulgence, seven years of remission from the pains of purgatory24, and earlier enjoyment25 of heavenly bliss26, for each separate kiss imprinted27 on the black cross. What better use could be made of life, after middle age, when the accumulated sins are many and the remaining temptations few, than to spend it all in kissing the black cross of the Coliseum!
Besides its central consecration28, the whole area has been made sacred by a range of shrines, which are erected29 round the circle, each commemorating30 some scene or circumstance of the Saviour’s passion and suffering. In accordance with an ordinary custom, a pilgrim was making his progress from shrine11 to shrine upon his knees, and saying a penitential prayer at each. Light-footed girls ran across the path along which he crept, or sported with their friends close by the shrines where he was kneeling. The pilgrim took no heed31, and the girls meant no irreverence32; for in Italy religion jostles along side by side with business and sport, after a fashion of its own, and people are accustomed to kneel down and pray, or see others praying, between two fits of merriment, or between two sins.
To make an end of our description, a red twinkle of light was visible amid the breadth of shadow that fell across the upper part of the Coliseum. Now it glimmered33 through a line of arches, or threw a broader gleam as it rose out of some profound abyss of ruin; now it was muffled34 by a heap of shrubbery which had adventurously35 clambered to that dizzy height; and so the red light kept ascending36 to loftier and loftier ranges of the structure, until it stood like a star where the blue sky rested against the Coliseum’s topmost wall. It indicated a party of English or Americans paying the inevitable37 visit by moonlight, and exalting38 themselves with raptures39 that were Byron’s, not their own.
Our company of artists sat on the fallen column, the pagan altar, and the steps of the Christian shrine, enjoying the moonlight and shadow, the present gayety and the gloomy reminiscences of the scene, in almost equal share. Artists, indeed, are lifted by the ideality of their pursuits a little way off the earth, and are therefore able to catch the evanescent fragrance40 that floats in the atmosphere of life above the heads of the ordinary crowd. Even if they seem endowed with little imagination individually, yet there is a property, a gift, a talisman41, common to their class, entitling them to partake somewhat more bountifully than other people in the thin delights of moonshine and romance.
“How delightful42 this is!” said Hilda; and she sighed for very pleasure.
“Yes,” said Kenyon, who sat on the column, at her side. “The Coliseum is far more delightful, as we enjoy it now, than when eighty thousand persons sat squeezed together, row above row, to see their fellow creatures torn by lions and tigers limb from limb. What a strange thought that the Coliseum was really built for us, and has not come to its best uses till almost two thousand years after it was finished!”
“The Emperor Vespasian scarcely had us in his mind,” said Hilda, smiling; “but I thank him none the less for building it.”
“He gets small thanks, I fear, from the people whose bloody43 instincts he pampered,” rejoined Kenyon. “Fancy a nightly assemblage of eighty thousand melancholy44 and remorseful45 ghosts, looking down from those tiers of broken arches, striving to repent46 of the savage47 pleasures which they once enjoyed, but still longing48 to enjoy them over again.”
“You bring a Gothic horror into this peaceful moonlight scene,” said Hilda.
“Nay, I have good authority for peopling the Coliseum with phantoms,” replied the sculptor49. “Do you remember that veritable scene in Benvenuto Cellini’s autobiography50, in which a necromancer51 of his acquaintance draws a magic circle—just where the black cross stands now, I suppose—and raises myriads52 of demons53? Benvenuto saw them with his own eyes,—giants, pygmies, and other creatures of frightful54 aspect, capering55 and dancing on yonder walls. Those spectres must have been Romans, in their lifetime, and frequenters of this bloody amphitheatre.”
“I see a spectre, now!” said Hilda, with a little thrill of uneasiness. “Have you watched that pilgrim, who is going round the whole circle of shrines, on his knees, and praying with such fervency56 at every one? Now that he has revolved57 so far in his orbit, and has the moonshine on his face as he turns towards us, methinks I recognize him!”
“And so do I,” said Kenyon. “Poor Miriam! Do you think she sees him?”
They looked round, and perceived that Miriam had risen from the steps of the shrine and disappeared. She had shrunk back, in fact, into the deep obscurity of an arch that opened just behind them.
Donatello, whose faithful watch was no more to be eluded58 than that of a hound, had stolen after her, and became the innocent witness of a spectacle that had its own kind of horror. Unaware59 of his presence, and fancying herself wholly unseen, the beautiful Miriam began to gesticulate extravagantly60, gnashing her teeth, flinging her arms wildly abroad, stamping with her foot.
It was as if she had stepped aside for an instant, solely61 to snatch the relief of a brief fit of madness. Persons in acute trouble, or laboring62 under strong excitement, with a necessity for concealing63 it, are prone64 to relieve their nerves in this wild way; although, when practicable, they find a more effectual solace65 in shrieking66 aloud.
Thus, as soon as she threw off her self-control, under the dusky arches of the Coliseum, we may consider Miriam as a mad woman, concentrating the elements of a long insanity67 into that instant.
“Signorina! signorina! have pity on me!” cried Donatello, approaching her; “this is too terrible!”
“How dare you look, at me!” exclaimed Miriam, with a start; then, whispering below her breath, “men have been struck dead for a less offence!”
“Donatello,” said Miriam, coming close to the young man, and speaking low, but still the almost insanity of the moment vibrating in her voice, “if you love yourself; if you desire those earthly blessings70, such as you, of all men, were made for; if you would come to a good old age among your olive orchards71 and your Tuscan vines, as your forefathers72 did; if you would leave children to enjoy the same peaceful, happy, innocent life, then flee from me. Look not behind you! Get you gone without another word.” He gazed sadly at her, but did not stir. “I tell you,” Miriam went on, “there is a great evil hanging over me! I know it; I see it in the sky; I feel it in the air! It will overwhelm me as utterly73 as if this arch should crumble74 down upon our heads! It will crush you, too, if you stand at my side! Depart, then; and make the sign of the cross, as your faith bids you, when an evil spirit is nigh. Cast me off, or you are lost forever.”
A higher sentiment brightened upon Donatello’s face than had hitherto seemed to belong to its simple expression and sensuous75 beauty.
“I will never quit you,” he said; “you cannot drive me from you.”
“Poor Donatello!” said Miriam in a changed tone, and rather to herself than him. “Is there no other that seeks me out, follows me,—is obstinate76 to share my affliction and my doom,—but only you! They call me beautiful; and I used to fancy that, at my need, I could bring the whole world to my feet. And lo! here is my utmost need; and my beauty and my gifts have brought me only this poor, simple boy. Half-witted, they call him; and surely fit for nothing but to be happy. And I accept his aid! To-morrow, to-morrow, I will tell him all! Ah! what a sin to stain his joyous77 nature with the blackness of a woe78 like mine!”
She held out her hand to him, and smiled sadly as Donatello pressed it to his lips. They were now about to emerge from the depth of the arch; but just then the kneeling pilgrim, in his revolution round the orbit of the shrines, had reached the one on the steps of which Miriam had been sitting. There, as at the other shrines, he prayed, or seemed to pray. It struck Kenyon, however,—who sat close by, and saw his face distinctly, that the suppliant79 was merely performing an enjoined80 penance81, and without the penitence82 that ought to have given it effectual life. Even as he knelt, his eyes wandered, and Miriam soon felt that he had detected her, half hidden as she was within the obscurity of the arch.
“He is evidently a good Catholic, however,” whispered one of the party. “After all, I fear we cannot identify him with the ancient pagan who haunts the catacombs.”
“The doctors of the Propaganda may have converted him,” said another; “they have had fifteen hundred years to perform the task.”
The company now deemed it time to continue their ramble83. Emerging from a side entrance of the Coliseum, they had on their left the Arch of Constantine, and above it the shapeless ruins of the Palace of the Caesars; portions of which have taken shape anew, in mediaeval convents and modern villas84. They turned their faces cityward, and, treading over the broad flagstones of the old Roman pavement, passed through the Arch of Titus. The moon shone brightly enough within it to show the seven-branched Jewish candlestick, cut in the marble of the interior. The original of that awful trophy85 lies buried, at this moment, in the yellow mud of the Tiber; and, could its gold of Ophir again be brought to light, it would be the most precious relic86 of past ages, in the estimation of both Jew and Gentile.
Standing87 amid so much ancient dust, it is difficult to spare the reader the commonplaces of enthusiasm, on which hundreds of tourists have already insisted. Over this half-worn pavement, and beneath this Arch of Titus, the Roman armies had trodden in their outward march, to fight battles a world’s width away. Returning victorious88, with royal captives and inestimable spoil, a Roman triumph, that most gorgeous pageant89 of earthly pride, had streamed and flaunted90 in hundred-fold succession over these same flagstones, and through this yet stalwart archway. It is politic91, however, to make few allusions92 to such a past; nor, if we would create an interest in the characters of our story, is it wise to suggest how Cicero’s foot may have stepped on yonder stone, or how Horace was wont93 to stroll near by, making his footsteps chime with the measure of the ode that was ringing in his mind. The very ghosts of that massive and stately epoch94 have so much density95 that the actual people of to-day seem the thinner of the two, and stand more ghost-like by the arches and columns, letting the rich sculpture be discerned through their ill-compacted substance.
The party kept onward96, often meeting pairs and groups of midnight strollers like themselves. On such a moonlight night as this, Rome keeps itself awake and stirring, and is full of song and pastime, the noise of which mingles97 with your dreams, if you have gone betimes to bed. But it is better to be abroad, and take our own share of the enjoyable time; for the languor98 that weighs so heavily in the Roman atmosphere by day is lightened beneath the moon and stars.
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1
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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shrines
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| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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frolicsome
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| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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stanzas
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| 节，段( stanza的名词复数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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commemorating
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| v.纪念，庆祝( commemorate的现在分词 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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irreverence
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| n.不尊敬 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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adventurously
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| adv.爱冒险地 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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exalting
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| a.令人激动的，令人喜悦的 | |
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raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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42
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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43
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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autobiography
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| n.自传 | |
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51
necromancer
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| n. 巫师 | |
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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53
demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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54
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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55
capering
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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fervency
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| n.热情的；强烈的；热烈 | |
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revolved
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 )；细想 | |
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eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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extravagantly
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| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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suppliant
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| adj.哀恳的；n.恳求者，哀求者 | |
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80
enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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82
penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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84
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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85
trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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86
relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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87
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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89
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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90
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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politic
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| adj.有智虑的；精明的；v.从政 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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density
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| n.密集，密度，浓度 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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97
mingles
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| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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