The Millennium Stadium is an arena fit for gladiators. But for 40 terrible minutes on Saturday, it seemed as if the 72,456 spectators gathered there were witnessing something even the ancient Romans never saw.
The Lions (of Leinster) were being thrown to the Christians – or at least to the Saints, as Northampton are known to their supporters – with gruesome consequences. Grown men could not bear to look, unless they were English or from Munster.
Then the saints turned the other cheek, as saints are supposed to do. The lions belatedly roared. In fact, only their supporters roared louder: first with relief, that at least their heroes were putting up a fight. Then came the realisation that this was more than a mere fight.
"Smile like you've just seen the greatest rugby comeback ever," a blue-shirted man with a camera ordered his son outside the stadium afterwards. It wasn't that much of an exaggeration.
The savaging of Northampton's holy men notwithstanding, there was something almost supernatural about Leinster's resurrection. If it had been the men in red, their fans would write songs about it, or maybe even a play. But there was a sense that, having equalled Munster's record of two European Cups, Leinster had also made up some ground in the myth-making at which their great rivals are adept. Move over the "Miracle Match": the Cardiff Comeback had taken its place in the annals.
Some of the rowdier Leinster fans celebrated outside the stadium with mock lineouts and scrums, and by launching up-and-unders with an actual rugby ball, which careered around perilously close to shop windows, including those of an RAF recruitment office. Most were more restrained. For at least an hour or two after the final whistle, the prevailing mood was a sense of wonder at what had happened, as knots of supporters drank beer outside Irish pubs – O'Neill's, Dempsey's, Callaghans – and offered competing explanations.
Was it Jonny Sexton's half-time talk? Was it Drico's wounded pride, having suffered the indignity of being run through for a try before defying his injured knee and the advancing years with a storming second half?
Or was it just that Northampton – whose approach to rugby is anything but saint-like, as two yellow cards attested – only had 40 minutes' worth of unrestrained ferocity in them, after which Leinster's natural superiority asserted itself?
There was a school of thought – at least 110 people-strong (the number who had travelled in two buses from Tullow) – that Seán O'Brien, the bullocking Irish flanker, had been a big influence. He certainly flew the flag, literally, for his old Carlow club: running to the stands at the end of the game to collect the maroon-and-white colours from his fan club and parade them around the pitch.
But maybe it was, after all, a miracle. If so, the hundreds of Leinster supporters who spent the weekend camping in Llandaff Rugby Club grounds must have been implicated. The grounds are overlooked by the ancient Llandaff Cathedral, which gives the club its logo – a mitre – and are shared with the adjoining Cathedral School.
In fact, the Irish visitors (there were some from Northampton too, but, as in Cardiff generally, they were heavily outnumbered) were confined to the margins of the field on Friday night, pending a school cricket match the next day. But by Saturday evening, new arrivals were encroaching on to the semi-sacred playing surface. Even before the party at the club's late-night bar, they were happy campers.
For others, meanwhile, the journey home was already under way. Those of us on the 2.45am sailing from Fishguard to Rosslare yesterday were able to relive the match in more ways than one. Screens in the bar replayed the game in all its glory. And if the emotional rollercoaster experience was missing, this was more than compensated for by the weather, as high winds tossed the boat around the way Leinster had earlier played with our feelings.
By the time we reached Rosslare at 7am, it was like the Wreck of the Hesperus onboard. Blue-shirted bodies lay asleep where they had fallen, in hallways and corridors.
A few seasick children whimpered in the comforting arms of parents. After a high-flying weekend, many Leinster supporters were relieved to be brought back to earth, via Wexford.
As for the few Munster fans on board, they were already looking forward to next weekend in Limerick, when they hope to add to the process.