he sky recovered its radiant blue, and
when it became known that the statue of Serapis had escaped uninjured
in the siege of his sanctuary--when Cynegius, the Imperial legate, and
Evagrius, the city-prefect, had entered the theatre with much
pomp, followed by several senators and ladies and gentlemen of
rank-Christians, Heathen, and Jews--the most timid took courage; the
games had been postponed for an hour, and before the first team was led
into the arched shed whence the chariots started, the seats, though less
densely packed than usual, were amply filled.
The number of chariots entered for competition was by no means smaller
than on former occasions, for the heathen had strained every nerve to
show their fellow-citizens of different creeds, and especially Caesar's
representative, that, in spite of persecution and in defiance of
Imperial edicts, they were still a power worthy of consideration. The
Christians, on their part, did their utmost to outdo the idolaters on
the same ground where, not long since, they had held quite the second
place.
The Bishop's epigram: That Christianity had ceased to be the religion of
the poor, was amply confirmed; the greater proportion of the places for
senators, officials and rich citizens were occupied by its adherents,
and the men and women who professed the Faith were by no means behind
their heathen peers in magnificence of dress and jewels.
The horses, too, entered by the Christians could not fail to please
the connoisseur, as they punctually made their appearance behind the
starting-place, though he might have felt more confidence--and not
without reason--in the heathen steeds, and more particularly in their
drivers, each of whom had won on an average nine races out of ten.
The horses in the quadriga with which Marcus, the son of Mary, made his
appearance in the arena had never before been driven in the Hippodrome.
Demetrius, the owner's brother, had bred and trained them--four
magnificent black Arabs--and they excited much interest among the
knowing judges who were wont to collect and lounge about the 'oppidum',
as it was called, behind the 'carceres'--[The covered sheds or stalls
in which the horses were brought to wait for the start.]--to inspect the
racers, predict the winner, offer counsel to the drivers, and make
bets. These perfect creatures were perhaps as fine as the famous team
of golden bays belonging to Iphicrates, which so often had proved
victorious; but the
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