nearly one o’clock
And then , too , the new religion everywhere hunted down the old one , stole its temples , overturned its gods . Earthly deposits probably completed the disaster -- there were , it is said , both earthquakes and inundations -- and the soil was ever rising , the alluvia of the young Christian world buried the ancient pagan society . And after the pillaging of the temples , the theft of the bronze roofs and marble columns , the climax came with the filching of the stones torn from the Colosseum and the Theatre of Marcellus , with the pounding of the statuary and sculpture-work , thrown into kilns to procure the lime needed for the new monuments of Catholic Rome . It was nearly one o'clock , and Pierre awoke as from a dream . The sun-rays were streaming in a golden rain between the shiny leaves of the ever-green oaks above him , and down below Rome lay dozing , overcome by the great heat . Then he made up his mind to leave the garden , and went stumbling over the rough pavement of the Clivus Victoriae , his mind still haunted by blinding visions . To complete his day , he had resolved to visit the old Appian Way during the afternoon , and , unwilling to return to the Via Giulia , he lunched at a suburban tavern , in a large , dim room , where , alone with the buzzing flies , he lingered for more than two hours , awaiting the sinking of the sun .