But the sea was deserted
and mute, and so was the watery abyss.
Listlessly Lazarus set foot on the streets of the Eternal City, as
though all its riches, all the majesty of its gigantic edifices, all
the lustre and beauty and music of refined life, were simply the echo
of the wind in the desert, or the misty images of hot running sand.
Chariots whirled by; the crowd of strong, beautiful, haughty men
passed on, builders of the Eternal City and proud partakers of its
life; songs rang out; fountains laughed; pearly laughter of women
filled the air, while the drunkard philosophised and the sober ones
smilingly listened; horseshoes rattled on the pavement. And surrounded
on all sides by glad sounds, a fat, heavy man moved through the centre
of the city like a cold spot of silence, sowing in his path grief,
anger and vague, carking distress. Who dared to be sad in Rome?
indignantly demanded frowning citizens; and in two days the
swift-tongued Rome knew of Lazarus, the man miraculously raised from
the grave, and timidly evaded him.
There were many brave men ready to try their strength, and at their
senseless call Lazarus came obediently.
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