"QUO VADIS\n\nA NARRATIVE OF THE TIME OF NERO\n\nby Henryk Sienkiewicz\n\n\nTranslated from the Polish by Jeremiah Curtin\n\n\n\n TO AUGUSTE COMTE,\n\n Of San Francisco, Cal.,\n\n MY DEAR FRIEND AND CLASSMATE, I BEG TO DEDICATE THIS VOLUME.\n\n JEREMIAH CURTIN\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY\n\nIN the trilogy \"With Fire and Sword,\" \"The Deluge,\" and \"Pan Michael,\"\nSienkiewicz has given pictures of a great and decisive epoch in modern\nhistory. The results of the struggle begun under Bogdan Hmelnitski have\nbeen felt for more than two centuries, and they are growing daily in\nimportance. The Russia which rose out of that struggle has become a\npower not only of European but of world-wide significance, and, to all\nhuman seeming, she is yet in an early stage of her career.\n\nIn \"Quo Vadis\" the author gives us pictures of opening scenes in the\nconflict of moral ideas with the Roman Empire,--a conflict from which\nChristianity issued as the leading force in history.\n\nThe Slays are not so well known to Western Europe or to us as they\nare sure to be in the near future; hence the trilogy, with all its\npopularity and merit, is not appreciated yet as it will be.\n\nThe conflict described in \"Quo Vadis\" is of supreme interest to a vast\nnumber of persons reading English; and this book will rouse, I think,\nmore attention at first than anything written by Sienkiewicz hitherto.\n\nJEREMIAH CURTIN\n\nILOM, NORTHERN GUATEMALA,\n\nJune, 1896\n\n\n\n\n\nQUO VADIS\n\nQuo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero\n\n\n\n\nChapter I\n\n\nPETRONIUS woke only about midday, and as usual greatly wearied. The\nevening before he had been at one of Nero's feasts, which was prolonged\ntill late at night. For some time his health had been failing. He said\nhimself that he woke up benumbed, as it were, and without power of\ncollecting his thoughts. But the morning bath and careful kneading of\nthe body by trained slaves hastened gradually the course of his slothful\nblood, roused him, quickened him, restored his strength, so that he\nissued from the elæothesium, that is, the last division of the bath, as\nif he had risen from the dead, with eyes gleaming from wit and gladness,\nrejuvenated, filled with life, exquisite, so unapproachable that Otho\nhimself could not compare with him, and was really that which he had\nbeen called,--arbiter elegantiarum.\n\nHe visited the public baths rarely, only when some rhetor happened there\nwho roused admiration and who was spoken of in the city, or when in the\nephebias there were combats of exceptional interest. Moreover, he had in\nhis own \"insula\" private baths which Celer, the famous contemporary\nof Severus, had extended for him, reconstructed and arranged with such\nuncommon taste that Nero himself acknowledged their excellence over\nthose of the Emperor, though the imperial baths were more extensive and\nfinished with incomparably greater luxury.\n\nAfter that feast, at which he was bored by the jesting of Vatinius with\nNero, Lucan, and Seneca, he took part in a diatribe as to whether woman\nhas a soul. Rising late, he used, as was his custom, the baths. Two\nenormous balneatores laid him on a cypress table covered with snow-white\nEgyptian byssus, and with hands dipped in perfumed olive oil began to\nrub his shapely body; and he waited with closed eyes till the heat\nof the laconicum and the heat of their hands passed through him and\nexpelled weariness.\n\nBut after a certain time he spoke, and opened his eyes; he inquired\nabout the weather, and then about gems which the jeweller Idomeneus\nhad promised to send him for examination that day. It appeared that the\nweather was beautiful, with a light breeze from the Alban hills, and\nthat the gems had not been brought. Petronius closed his eyes again, and\nhad given command to bear him to the tepidarium, when from behind\nthe curtain the nomenclator looked in, announcing that young Marcus\nVinicius, recently returned from Asia Minor, had come to visit him.\n\nPetronius ordered to admit the guest to the tepidarium, to which he\nwas borne himself. Vinicius was the son of his oldest sister, who years\nbefore had married Marcus Vinicius, a man of consular dignity from the\ntime of Tiberius. The young man was serving then under Corbulo against\nthe Parthians, and at the close of the war had returned to the city.\nPetronius had for him a certain weakness bordering on attachment, for\nMarcus was beautiful and athletic, a young man who knew how to preserve\na certain aesthetic measure in his profligacy; this, Petronius prized\nabove everything.\n\n\"A greeting to Petronius,\" said the young man, entering the tepidarium\nwith a springy step. \"May all the gods grant thee success, but\nespecially Asklepios and Kypris, for under their double protection\nnothing evil can meet one.\"\n\n\"I greet thee in Rome, and may thy rest be sweet after war,\" replied\nPetronius, extending his hand from between the folds of soft karbas\nstuff in which he was wrapped. \"What's to be heard in Armenia; or since\nthou wert in Asia, didst thou not stumble into Bithynia?\"\n\nPetronius on a time had been proconsul in Bithynia, and, what is more,\nhe had governed with energy and justice. This was a marvellous contrast\nin the character of a man noted for effeminacy and love of luxury; hence\nhe was fond of mentioning those times, as they were a proof of what he\nhad been, and of what he might have become had it pleased him.\n\n\"I happened to visit Heraklea,\" answered Vinicius. \"Corbulo sent me\nthere with an order to assemble reinforcements.\"\n\n\"Ah, Heraklea! I knew at Heraklea a certain maiden from Colchis,\nfor whom I would have given all the divorced women of this city, not\nexcluding Poppæa. But these are old stories. Tell me now, rather, what\nis to be heard from the Parthian boundary. It is true that they weary me\nevery Vologeses of them, and Tiridates and Tigranes,--those barbarians\nwho, as young Arulenus insists, walk on all fours at home, and pretend\nto be human only when in our presence. But now people in Rome speak much\nof them, if only for the reason that it is dangerous to speak of aught\nelse.\"\n\n\"The war is going badly, and but for Corbulo might be turned to defeat.\"\n\n\"Corbulo! by Bacchus! a real god of war, a genuine Mars, a great leader,\nat the same time quick-tempered, honest, and dull. I love him, even for\nthis,--that Nero is afraid of him.\"\n\n\"Corbulo is not a dull man.\"\n\n\"Perhaps thou art right, but for that matter it is all one. Dulness,\nas Pyrrho says, is in no way worse than wisdom, and differs from it in\nnothing.\"\n\nVinicius began to talk of the war; but when Petronius closed his eyes\nagain, the young man, seeing his uncle's tired and somewhat emaciated\nface, changed the conversation, and inquired with a certain interest\nabout his health.\n\nPetronius opened his eyes again.\n\nHealth!--No. He did not feel well. He had not gone so far yet, it is\ntrue, as young Sissena, who had lost sensation to such a degree that\nwhen he was brought to the bath in the morning he inquired, \"Am I\nsitting?\" But he was not well. Vinicius had just committed him to the\ncare of Asklepios and Kypris. But he, Petronius, did not believe in\nAsklepios. It was not known even whose son that Asklepios was, the son\nof Arsinoe or Koronis; and if the mother was doubtful, what was to be\nsaid of the father? Who, in that time, could be sure who his own father\nwas?\n\nHereupon Petronius began to laugh; then he continued,--\"Two years ago,\nit is true, I sent to Epidaurus three dozen live blackbirds and a goblet\nof gold; but dost thou know why? I said to myself, 'Whether this helps\nor not, it will do me no harm.' Though people make offerings to the\ngods yet, I believe that all think as I do,--all, with the exception,\nperhaps, of mule-drivers hired at the Porta Capena by travellers.\nBesides Asklepios, I have had dealings with sons of Asklepios. When\nI was troubled a little last year in the bladder, they performed an\nincubation for me. I saw that they were tricksters, but I said to\nmyself: 'What harm! The world stands on deceit, and life is an illusion.\nThe soul is an illusion too. But one must have reason enough to\ndistinguish pleasant from painful illusions.' I shall give command to\nburn in my hypocaustum, cedar-wood sprinkled with ambergris, for during\nlife I prefer perfumes to stenches. As to Kypris, to whom thou hast also\nconfided me, I have known her guardianship to the extent that I have\ntwinges in my right foot. But as to the rest she is a good goddess! I\nsuppose that thou wilt bear sooner or later white doves to her altar.\"\n\n\"True,\" answered Vinicius. \"The arrows of the Parthians have not reached\nmy body, but a dart of Amor has struck me--unexpectedly, a few stadia\nfrom a gate of this city.\"\n\n\"By the white knees of the Graces! thou wilt tell me of this at a\nleisure hour.\"\n\n\"I have come purposely to get thy advice,\" answered Marcus.\n\nBut at that moment the epilatores came, and occupied themselves with\nPetronius. Marcus, throwing aside his tunic, entered a bath of tepid\nwater, for Petronius invited him to a plunge bath.\n\n\"Ah, I have not even asked whether thy feeling is reciprocated,\" said\nPetronius, looking at the youthful body of Marcus, which was as if cut\nout of marble. \"Had Lysippos seen thee, thou wouldst be ornamenting now\nthe gate leading to the Palatine, as a statue of Hercules in youth.\"\n\nThe young man smiled with satisfaction, and began to sink in the bath,\nsplashing warm water abundantly on the mosaic which represented Hera at\nthe moment when she was imploring Sleep to lull Zeus to rest. Petronius\nlooked at him with the satisfied eye of an artist.\n\nWhen Vinicius had finished and yielded himself in turn to the\nepilatores, a lector came in with a bronze tube at his breast and rolls\nof paper in the tube.\n\n\"Dost wish to listen?\" asked Petronius.\n\n\"If it is thy creation, gladly!\" answered the young tribune; \"if not,\nI prefer conversation. Poets seize people at present on every street\ncorner.\"\n\n\"Of course they do. Thou wilt not pass any basilica, bath, library, or\nbook-shop without seeing a poet gesticulating like a monkey. Agrippa, on\ncoming here from the East, mistook them for madmen. And it is just such\na time now. Cæsar writes verses; hence all follow in his steps. Only it\nis not permitted to write better verses than Cæsar, and for that reason\nI fear a little for Lucan. But I write prose, with which, however, I do\nnot honor myself or others. What the lector has to read are codicilli of\nthat poor Fabricius Veiento.\"\n\n\"Why 'poor'?\"\n\n\"Because it has been communicated to him that he must dwell in Odyssa\nand not return to his domestic hearth till he receives a new command.\nThat Odyssey will be easier for him than for Ulysses, since his wife\nis no Penelope. I need not tell thee, for that matter, that he acted\nstupidly. But here no one takes things otherwise than superficially. His\nis rather a wretched and dull little book, which people have begun to\nread passionately only when the author is banished. Now one hears on\nevery side, 'Scandala! scandala!' and it may be that Veiento invented\nsome things; but I, who know the city, know our patres and our women,\nassure thee that it is all paler than reality. Meanwhile every man is\nsearching in the book,--for himself with alarm, for his acquaintances\nwith delight. At the book-shop of Avirnus a hundred copyists are writing\nat dictation, and its success is assured.\"\n\n\"Are not thy affairs in it?\"\n\n\"They are; but the author is mistaken, for I am at once worse and less\nflat than he represents me. Seest thou we have lost long since the\nfeeling of what is worthy or unworthy,--and to me even it seems that in\nreal truth there is no difference between them, though Seneca, Musonius,\nand Trasca pretend that they see it. To me it is all one! By Hercules,\nI say what I think! I have preserved loftiness, however, because I know\nwhat is deformed and what is beautiful; but our poet, Bronzebeard, for\nexample, the charioteer, the singer, the actor, does not understand\nthis.\"\n\n\"I am sorry, however, for Fabricius! He is a good companion.\"\n\n\"Vanity ruined the man. Every one suspected him, no one knew certainly;\nbut he could not contain himself, and told the secret on all sides in\nconfidence. Hast heard the history of Rufinus?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then come to the frigidarium to cool; there I will tell thee.\"\n\nThey passed to the frigidarium, in the middle of which played a fountain\nof bright rose-color, emitting the odor of violets. There they sat in\nniches which were covered with velvet, and began to cool themselves.\nSilence reigned for a time. Vinicius looked awhile thoughtfully at a\nbronze faun which, bending over the arm of a nymph, was seeking her lips\neagerly with his lips.\n\n\"He is right,\" said the young man. \"That is what is best in life.\"\n\n\"More or less! But besides this thou lovest war, for which I have no\nliking, since under tents one's finger-nails break and cease to be rosy.\nFor that matter, every man has his preferences. Bronzebeard loves song,\nespecially his own; and old Scaurus his Corinthian vase, which stands\nnear his bed at night, and which he kisses when he cannot sleep. He has\nkissed the edge off already. Tell me, dost thou not write verses?\"\n\n\"No; I have never composed a single hexameter.\"\n\n\"And dost thou not play on the lute and sing?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"And dost thou drive a chariot?\"\n\n\"I tried once in Antioch, but unsuccessfully.\"\n\n\"Then I am at rest concerning thee. And to what party in the hippodrome\ndost thou belong?\"\n\n\"To the Greens.\"\n\n\"Now I am perfectly at rest, especially since thou hast a large property\nindeed, though thou art not so rich as Pallas or Seneca. For seest thou,\nwith us at present it is well to write verses, to sing to a lute, to\ndeclaim, and to compete in the Circus; but better, and especially safer,\nnot to write verses, not to play, not to sing, and not to compete in\nthe Circus. Best of all, is it to know how to admire when Bronzebeard\nadmires. Thou art a comely young man; hence Poppæa may fall in love with\nthee. This is thy only peril. But no, she is too experienced; she cares\nfor something else. She has had enough of love with her two husbands;\nwith the third she has other views. Dost thou know that that stupid\nOtho loves her yet to distraction? He walks on the cliffs of Spain, and\nsighs; he has so lost his former habits, and so ceased to care for his\nperson, that three hours each day suffice him to dress his hair. Who\ncould have expected this of Otho?\"\n\n\"I understand him,\" answered Vinicius; \"but in his place I should have\ndone something else.\"\n\n\"What, namely?\"\n\n\"I should have enrolled faithful legions of mountaineers of that\ncountry. They are good soldiers,--those Iberians.\"\n\n\"Vinicius! Vinicius! I almost wish to tell thee that thou wouldst not\nhave been capable of that. And knowest why? Such things are done, but\nthey are not mentioned even conditionally. As to me, in his place, I\nshould have laughed at Poppæa, laughed at Bronzebeard, and formed for\nmyself legions, not of Iberian men, however, but Iberian women. And what\nis more, I should have written epigrams which I should not have read to\nany one,--not like that poor Rufinus.\"\n\n\"Thou wert to tell me his history.\"\n\n\"I will tell it in the unctorium.\"\n\nBut in the unctorium the attention of Vinicius was turned to other\nobjects; namely, to wonderful slave women who were waiting for the\nbathers. Two of them, Africans, resembling noble statues of ebony,\nbegan to anoint their bodies with delicate perfumes from Arabia; others,\nPhrygians, skilled in hairdressing, held in their hands, which were\nbending and flexible as serpents, combs and mirrors of polished steel;\ntwo Grecian maidens from Kos, who were simply like deities, waited as\nvestiplicæ, till the moment should come to put statuesque folds in the\ntogas of the lords.\n\n\"By the cloud-scattering Zeus!\" said Marcus Vinicius, \"what a choice\nthou hast!\"\n\n\"I prefer choice to numbers,\" answered Petronius. \"My whole 'familia'\n[household servants] in Rome does not exceed four hundred, and I judge\nthat for personal attendance only upstarts need a greater number of\npeople.\"\n\n\"More beautiful bodies even Bronzebeard does not possess,\" said\nVinicius, distending his nostrils.\n\n\"Thou art my relative,\" answered Petronius, with a certain friendly\nindifference, \"and I am neither so misanthropic as Barsus nor such a\npedant as Aulus Plautius.\"\n\nWhen Vinicius heard this last name, he forgot the maidens from Kos for a\nmoment, and, raising his head vivaciously, inquired,--\"Whence did Aulus\nPlautius come to thy mind? Dost thou know that after I had disjointed\nmy arm outside the city, I passed a number of days in his house? It\nhappened that Plautius came up at the moment when the accident happened,\nand, seeing that I was suffering greatly, he took me to his house; there\na slave of his, the physician Merion, restored me to health. I wished to\nspeak with thee touching this very matter.\"\n\n\"Why? Is it because thou hast fallen in love with Pomponia perchance? In\nthat case I pity thee; she is not young, and she is virtuous! I cannot\nimagine a worse combination. Brr!\"\n\n\"Not with Pomponia--eheu!\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"With whom, then?\"\n\n\"If I knew myself with whom? But I do not know to a certainty her name\neven,--Lygia or Callina? They call her Lygia in the house, for she comes\nof the Lygian nation; but she has her own barbarian name, Callina. It is\na wonderful house,--that of those Plautiuses. There are many people in\nit; but it is quiet there as in the groves of Subiacum. For a number\nof days I did not know that a divinity dwelt in the house. Once about\ndaybreak I saw her bathing in the garden fountain; and I swear to thee\nby that foam from which Aphrodite rose, that the rays of the dawn passed\nright through her body. I thought that when the sun rose she would\nvanish before me in the light, as the twilight of morning does. Since\nthen, I have seen her twice; and since then, too, I know not what rest\nis, I know not what other desires are, I have no wish to know what the\ncity can give me. I want neither women, nor gold, nor Corinthian bronze,\nnor amber, nor pearls, nor wine, nor feasts; I want only Lygia. I am\nyearning for her, in sincerity I tell thee, Petronius, as that Dream who\nis imaged on the Mosaic of thy tepidarium yearned for Paisythea,--whole\ndays and night do I yearn.\"\n\n\"If she is a slave, then purchase her.\"\n\n\"She is not a slave.\"\n\n\"What is she? A freed woman of Plautius?\"\n\n\"Never having been a slave, she could not be a freed woman.\"\n\n\"Who is she?\"\n\n\"I know not,--a king's daughter, or something of that sort.\"\n\n\"Thou dost rouse my curiosity, Vinicius.\"\n\n\"But if thou wish to listen, I will satisfy thy curiosity straightway.\nHer story is not a long one. Thou art acquainted, perhaps personally,\nwith Vannius, king of the Suevi, who, expelled from his country, spent a\nlong time here in Rome, and became even famous for his skilful play with\ndice, and his good driving of chariots. Drusus put him on the throne\nagain. Vannius, who was really a strong man, ruled well at first, and\nwarred with success; afterward, however, he began to skin not only his\nneighbors, but his own Suevi, too much. Thereupon Vangio and Sido, two\nsister's sons of his, and the sons of Vibilius, king of the Hermunduri,\ndetermined to force him to Rome again--to try his luck there at dice.\"\n\n\"I remember; that is of recent Claudian times.\"\n\n\"Yes! War broke out. Vannius summoned to his aid the Yazygi; his dear\nnephews called in the Lygians, who, hearing of the riches of Vannius,\nand enticed by the hope of booty, came in such numbers that Cæsar\nhimself, Claudius, began to fear for the safety of the boundary.\nClaudius did not wish to interfere in a war among barbarians, but he\nwrote to Atelius Hister, who commanded the legions of the Danube, to\nturn a watchful eye on the course of the war, and not permit them to\ndisturb our peace. Hister required, then, of the Lygians a promise not\nto cross the boundary; to this they not only agreed, but gave hostages,\namong whom were the wife and daughter of their leader. It is known to\nthee that barbarians take their wives and children to war with them. My\nLygia is the daughter of that leader.\"\n\n\"Whence dost thou know all this?\"\n\n\"Aulus Plautius told it himself. The Lygians did not cross the boundary,\nindeed; but barbarians come and go like a tempest. So did the Lygians\nvanish with their wild-ox horns on their heads. They killed Vannius's\nSuevi and Yazygi; but their own king fell. They disappeared with their\nbooty then, and the hostages remained in Hister's hands. The mother died\nsoon after, and Hister, not knowing what to do with the daughter, sent\nher to Pomponius, the governor of all Germany. He, at the close of the\nwar with the Catti, returned to Rome, where Claudius, as is known to\nthee, permitted him to have a triumph. The maiden on that occasion\nwalked after the car of the conqueror; but, at the end of the\nsolemnity,--since hostages cannot be considered captives, and since\nPomponius did not know what to do with her definitely--he gave her to\nhis sister Pomponia Græcina, the wife of Plautius. In that house where\nall--beginning with the masters and ending with the poultry in the\nhen-house--are virtuous, that maiden grew up as virtuous, alas! as\nGræcina herself, and so beautiful that even Poppæa, if near her, would\nseem like an autumn fig near an apple of the Hesperides.\"\n\n\"And what?\"\n\n\"And I repeat to thee that from the moment when I saw how the\nsun-rays at that fountain passed through her body, I fell in love to\ndistraction.\"\n\n\"She is as transparent as a lamprey eel, then, or a youthful sardine?\"\n\n\"Jest not, Petronius; but if the freedom with which I speak of my desire\nmisleads thee, know this,--that bright garments frequently cover deep\nwounds. I must tell thee, too, that, while returning from Asia, I slept\none night in the temple of Mopsus to have a prophetic dream. Well,\nMopsus appeared in a dream to me, and declared that, through love, a\ngreat change in my life would take place.\"\n\n\"Pliny declares, as I hear, that he does not believe in the gods, but he\nbelieves in dreams; and perhaps he is right. My jests do not prevent me\nfrom thinking at times that in truth there is only one deity, eternal,\ncreative, all-powerful, Venus Genetrix. She brings souls together; she\nunites bodies and things. Eros called the world out of chaos. Whether he\ndid well is another question; but, since he did so, we should recognize\nhis might, though we are free not to bless it.\"\n\n\"Alas! Petronius, it is easier to find philosophy in the world than wise\ncounsel.\"\n\n\"Tell me, what is thy wish specially?\"\n\n\"I wish to have Lygia. I wish that these arms of mine, which now embrace\nonly air, might embrace Lygia and press her to my bosom. I wish to\nbreathe with her breath. Were she a slave, I would give Aulus for her\none hundred maidens with feet whitened with lime as a sign that they\nwere exhibited on sale for the first time. I wish to have her in my\nhouse till my head is as white as the top of Soracte in winter.\"\n\n\"She is not a slave, but she belongs to the 'family' of Plautius; and\nsince she is a deserted maiden, she may be considered an 'alumna.'\nPlautius might yield her to thee if he wished.\"\n\n\"Then it seems that thou knowest not Pomponia Græcina. Both have become\nas much attached to her as if she were their own daughter.\"\n\n\"Pomponia I know,--a real cypress. If she were not the wife of Aulus,\nshe might be engaged as a mourner. Since the death of Julius she has\nnot thrown aside dark robes; and in general she looks as if, while still\nalive, she were walking on the asphodel meadow. She is, moreover, a\n'one-man woman'; hence, among our ladies of four and five divorces, she\nis straightway a phoenix. But! hast thou heard that in Upper Egypt the\nphoenix has just been hatched out, as 'tis said?--an event which happens\nnot oftener than once in five centuries.\"\n\n\"Petronius! Petronius! Let us talk of the phoenix some other time.\"\n\n\"What shall I tell thee, my Marcus? I know Aulus Plautius, who, though\nhe blames my mode of life, has for me a certain weakness, and even\nrespects me, perhaps, more than others, for he knows that I have never\nbeen an informer like Domitius Afer, Tigellinus, and a whole rabble\nof Ahenobarbus's intimates [Nero's name was originally L. Domitius\nAhenobarbus]. Without pretending to be a stoic, I have been offended\nmore than once at acts of Nero, which Seneca and Burrus looked at\nthrough their fingers. If it is thy thought that I might do something\nfor thee with Aulus, I am at thy command.\"\n\n\"I judge that thou hast the power. Thou hast influence over him; and,\nbesides, thy mind possesses inexhaustible resources. If thou wert to\nsurvey the position and speak with Plautius.\"\n\n\"Thou hast too great an idea of my influence and wit; but if that is the\nonly question, I will talk with Plautius as soon as they return to the\ncity.\"\n\n\"They returned two days since.\"\n\n\"In that case let us go to the triclinium, where a meal is now ready,\nand when we have refreshed ourselves, let us give command to bear us to\nPlautius.\"\n\n\"Thou hast ever been kind to me,\" answered Vinicius, with vivacity; \"but\nnow I shall give command to rear thy statue among my lares,--just such a\nbeauty as this one,--and I will place offerings before it.\"\n\nThen he turned toward the statues which ornamented one entire wall\nof the perfumed chamber, and pointing to the one which represented\nPetronius as Hermes with a staff in his hand, he added,--\"By the light\nof Helios! if the 'godlike' Alexander resembled thee, I do not wonder at\nHelen.\"\n\nAnd in that exclamation there was as much sincerity as flattery; for\nPetronius, though older and less athletic, was more beautiful than even\nVinicius. The women of Rome admired not only his pliant mind and his\ntaste, which gained for him the title Arbiter elegantiæ, but also his\nbody. This admiration was evident even on the faces of those maidens\nfrom Kos who were arranging the folds of his toga; and one of whom,\nwhose name was Eunice, loving him in secret, looked him in the eyes with\nsubmission and rapture. But he did not even notice this; and, smiling\nat Vinicius, he quoted in answer an expression of Seneca about\nwoman,--Animal impudens, etc. And then, placing an arm on the shoulders\nof his nephew, he conducted him to the triclinium.\n\nIn the unctorium the two Grecian maidens, the Phrygians, and the two\nEthiopians began to put away the vessels with perfumes. But at that\nmoment, and beyond the curtain of the frigidarium, appeared the heads\nof the balneatores, and a low \"Psst!\" was heard. At that call one of\nthe Grecians, the Phrygians, and the Ethiopians sprang up quickly, and\nvanished in a twinkle behind the curtain. In the baths began a moment of\nlicense which the inspector did not prevent, for he took frequent part\nin such frolics himself. Petronius suspected that they took place; but,\nas a prudent man, and one who did not like to punish, he looked at them\nthrough his fingers.\n\nIn the unctorium only Eunice remained. She listened for a short time\nto the voices and laughter which retreated in the direction of the\nlaconicum. At last she took the stool inlaid with amber and ivory,\non which Petronius had been sitting a short time before, and put it\ncarefully at his statue. The unctorium was full of sunlight and the hues\nwhich came from the many-colored marbles with which the wall was faced.\nEunice stood on the stool, and, finding herself at the level of the\nstatue, cast her arms suddenly around its neck; then, throwing back her\ngolden hair, and pressing her rosy body to the white marble, she pressed\nher lips with ecstasy to the cold lips of Petronius.\n\n\n\n\nChapter II\n\n\nAfter a refreshment, which was called the morning meal and to which the\ntwo friends sat down at an hour when common mortals were already long\npast their midday prandium, Petronius proposed a light doze. According\nto him, it was too early for visits yet. \"There are, it is true,\"\nsaid he, \"people who begin to visit their acquaintances about sunrise,\nthinking that custom an old Roman one, but I look on this as barbarous.\nThe afternoon hours are most proper,--not earlier, however, than that\none when the sun passes to the side of Jove's temple on the Capitol and\nbegins to look slantwise on the Forum. In autumn it is still hot, and\npeople are glad to sleep after eating. At the same time it is pleasant\nto hear the noise of the fountain in the atrium, and, after the\nobligatory thousand steps, to doze in the red light which filters in\nthrough the purple half-drawn velarium.\"\n\nVinicius recognized the justice of these words; and the two men began\nto walk, speaking in a careless manner of what was to be heard on\nthe Palatine and in the city, and philosophizing a little upon life.\nPetronius withdrew then to the cubiculum, but did not sleep long. In\nhalf an hour he came out, and, having given command to bring verbena, he\ninhaled the perfume and rubbed his hands and temples with it.\n\n\"Thou wilt not believe,\" said he, \"how it enlivens and freshens one. Now\nI am ready.\"\n\nThe litter was waiting long since; hence they took their places, and\nPetronius gave command to bear them to the Vicus Patricius, to the\nhouse of Aulus. Petronius's \"insula\" lay on the southern slope of the\nPalatine, near the so-called Carinæ; their nearest way, therefore, was\nbelow the Forum; but since Petronius wished to step in on the way to see\nthe jeweller Idomeneus, he gave the direction to carry them along the\nVicus Apollinis and the Forum in the direction of the Vicus Sceleratus,\non the corner of which were many tabernæ of every kind.\n\nGigantic Africans bore the litter and moved on, preceded by slaves\ncalled pedisequii. Petronius, after some time, raised to his nostrils\nin silence his palm odorous with verbena, and seemed to be meditating on\nsomething.\n\n\"It occurs to me,\" said he after a while, \"that if thy forest goddess is\nnot a slave she might leave the house of Plautius, and transfer herself\nto thine. Thou wouldst surround her with love and cover her with wealth,\nas I do my adored Chrysothemis, of whom, speaking between us, I have\nquite as nearly enough as she has of me.\"\n\nMarcus shook his head.\n\n\"No?\" inquired Petronius. \"In the worst event, the case would be left\nwith Cæsar, and thou mayst be certain that, thanks even to my influence,\nour Bronzebeard would be on thy side.\"\n\n\"Thou knowest not Lygia,\" replied Vinicius.\n\n\"Then permit me to ask if thou know her otherwise than by sight? Hast\nspoken with her? hast confessed thy love to her?\"\n\n\"I saw her first at the fountain; since then I have met her twice.\nRemember that during my stay in the house of Aulus, I dwelt in a\nseparate villa, intended for guests, and, having a disjointed arm, I\ncould not sit at the common table. Only on the eve of the day for which\nI announced my departure did I meet Lygia at supper, but I could not\nsay a word to her. I had to listen to Aulus and his account of victories\ngained by him in Britain, and then of the fall of small states in Italy,\nwhich Licinius Stolo strove to prevent. In general I do not know whether\nAulus will be able to speak of aught else, and do not think that we\nshall escape this history unless it be thy wish to hear about the\neffeminacy of these days. They have pheasants in their preserves, but\nthey do not eat them, setting out from the principle that every pheasant\neaten brings nearer the end of Roman power. I met her a second time at\nthe garden cistern, with a freshly plucked reed in her hand, the top of\nwhich she dipped in the water and sprinkled the irises growing around.\nLook at my knees. By the shield of Hercules, I tell thee that they\ndid not tremble when clouds of Parthians advanced on our maniples with\nhowls, but they trembled before the cistern. And, confused as a youth\nwho still wears a bulla on his neck, I merely begged pity with my eyes,\nnot being able to utter a word for a long time.\"\n\nPetronius looked at him, as if with a certain envy. \"Happy man,\" said\nhe, \"though the world and life were the worst possible, one thing in\nthem will remain eternally good,--youth!\"\n\nAfter a while he inquired: \"And hast thou not spoken to her?\"\n\n\"When I had recovered somewhat, I told her that I was returning from\nAsia, that I had disjointed my arm near the city, and had suffered\nseverely, but at the moment of leaving that hospitable house I saw that\nsuffering in it was more to be wished for than delight in another place,\nthat sickness there was better than health somewhere else. Confused\ntoo on her part, she listened to my words with bent head while drawing\nsomething with the reed on the saffron-colored sand. Afterward she\nraised her eyes, then looked down at the marks drawn already; once\nmore she looked at me, as if to ask about something, and then fled on a\nsudden like a hamadryad before a dull faun.\"\n\n\"She must have beautiful eyes.\"\n\n\"As the sea--and I was drowned in them, as in the sea. Believe me that\nthe archipelago is less blue. After a while a little son of Plautius ran\nup with a question. But I did not understand what he wanted.\"\n\n\"O Athene!\" exclaimed Petronius, \"remove from the eyes of this youth the\nbandage with which Eros has bound them; if not, he will break his head\nagainst the columns of Venus's temple.\n\n\"O thou spring bud on the tree of life,\" said he, turning to Vinicius,\n\"thou first green shoot of the vine! Instead of taking thee to the\nPlautiuses, I ought to give command to bear thee to the house of\nGelocius, where there is a school for youths unacquainted with life.\"\n\n\"What dost thou wish in particular?\"\n\n\"But what did she write on the sand? Was it not the name of Amor, or a\nheart pierced with his dart, or something of such sort, that one might\nknow from it that the satyrs had whispered to the ear of that nymph\nvarious secrets of life? How couldst thou help looking on those marks?\"\n\n\"It is longer since I have put on the toga than seems to thee,\" said\nVinicius, \"and before little Aulus ran up, I looked carefully at those\nmarks, for I know that frequently maidens in Greece and in Rome draw on\nthe sand a confession which their lips will not utter. But guess what\nshe drew!\"\n\n\"If it is other than I supposed, I shall not guess.\"\n\n\"A fish.\"\n\n\"What dost thou say?\"\n\n\"I say, a fish. What did that mean,--that cold blood is flowing in her\nveins? So far I do not know; but thou, who hast called me a spring bud\non the tree of life, wilt be able to understand the sign certainly.\"\n\n\"Carissime! ask such a thing of Pliny. He knows fish. If old Apicius\nwere alive, he could tell thee something, for in the course of his\nlife he ate more fish than could find place at one time in the bay of\nNaples.\"\n\nFurther conversation was interrupted, since they were borne into crowded\nstreets where the noise of people hindered them.\n\nFrom the Vicus Apollinis they turned to the Boarium, and then entered\nthe Forum Romanum, where on clear days, before sunset, crowds of idle\npeople assembled to stroll among the columns, to tell and hear news, to\nsee noted people borne past in litters, and finally to look in at the\njewellery-shops, the book-shops, the arches where coin was changed,\nshops for silk, bronze, and all other articles with which the buildings\ncovering that part of the market placed opposite the Capitol were\nfilled.\n\nOne-half of the Forum, immediately under the rock of the Capitol, was\nburied already in shade; but the columns of the temples, placed higher,\nseemed golden in the sunshine and the blue. Those lying lower cast\nlengthened shadows on marble slabs. The place was so filled with columns\neverywhere that the eye was lost in them as in a forest.\n\nThose buildings and columns seemed huddled together. They towered some\nabove others, they stretched toward the right and the left, they climbed\ntoward the height, and they clung to the wall of the Capitol, or some\nof them clung to others, like greater and smaller, thicker and thinner,\nwhite or gold colored tree-trunks, now blooming under architraves,\nflowers of the acanthus, now surrounded with Ionic corners, now finished\nwith a simple Doric quadrangle. Above that forest gleamed colored\ntriglyphs; from tympans stood forth the sculptured forms of gods; from\nthe summits winged golden quadrigæ seemed ready to fly away through\nspace into the blue dome, fixed serenely above that crowded place of\ntemples. Through the middle of the market and along the edges of it\nflowed a river of people; crowds passed under the arches of the basilica\nof Julius Cæsar; crowds were sitting on the steps of Castor and Pollux,\nor walking around the temple of Vesta, resembling on that great marble\nbackground many-colored swarms of butterflies or beetles. Down immense\nsteps, from the side of the temple on the Capitol dedicated to Jupiter\nOptimus Maximus, came new waves; at the rostra people listened to chance\norators; in one place and another rose the shouts of hawkers selling\nfruit, wine, or water mixed with fig-juice; of tricksters; of venders\nof marvellous medicines; of soothsayers; of discoverers of hidden\ntreasures; of interpreters of dreams. Here and there, in the tumult of\nconversations and cries, were mingled sounds of the Egyptian sistra, of\nthe sambuké, or of Grecian flutes. Here and there the sick, the pious,\nor the afflicted were bearing offerings to the temples. In the midst of\nthe people, on the stone flags, gathered flocks of doves, eager for\nthe grain given them, and like movable many-colored and dark spots, now\nrising for a moment with a loud sound of wings, now dropping down again\nto places left vacant by people. From time to time the crowds opened\nbefore litters in which were visible the affected faces of women, or\nthe heads of senators and knights, with features, as it were, rigid and\nexhausted from living. The many-tongued population repeated aloud their\nnames, with the addition of some term of praise or ridicule. Among\nthe unordered groups pushed from time to time, advancing with measured\ntread, parties of soldiers, or watchers, preserving order on the\nstreets. Around about, the Greek language was heard as often as Latin.\n\nVinicius, who had not been in the city for a long time, looked with a\ncertain curiosity on that swarm of people and on that Forum Romanum,\nwhich both dominated the sea of the world and was flooded by it, so that\nPetronius, who divined the thoughts of his companion, called it \"the\nnest of the Quirites--without the Quirites.\" In truth, the local element\nwas well-nigh lost in that crowd, composed of all races and nations.\nThere appeared Ethiopians, gigantic light-haired people from the distant\nnorth, Britons, Gauls, Germans, sloping-eyed dwellers of Lericum; people\nfrom the Euphrates and from the Indus, with beards dyed brick color;\nSyrians from the banks of the Orontes, with black and mild eyes;\ndwellers in the deserts of Arabia, dried up as a bone; Jews, with their\nflat breasts; Egyptians, with the eternal, indifferent smile on their\nfaces; Numidians and Africans; Greeks from Hellas, who equally with the\nRomans commanded the city, but commanded through science, art, wisdom,\nand deceit; Greeks from the islands, from Asia Minor, from Egypt, from\nItaly, from Narbonic Gaul. In the throng of slaves, with pierced ears,\nwere not lacking also freemen,--an idle population, which Cæsar amused,\nsupported, even clothed,--and free visitors, whom the ease of life and\nthe prospects of fortune enticed to the gigantic city; there was no lack\nof venal persons. There were priests of Serapis, with palm branches in\ntheir hands; priests of Isis, to whose altar more offerings were brought\nthan to the temple of the Capitoline Jove; priests of Cybele, bearing\nin their hands golden ears of rice; and priests of nomad divinities; and\ndancers of the East with bright head-dresses, and dealers in amulets,\nand snake-tamers, and Chaldean seers; and, finally, people without any\noccupation whatever, who applied for grain every week at the storehouses\non the Tiber, who fought for lottery-tickets to the Circus, who spent\ntheir nights in rickety houses of districts beyond the Tiber, and sunny\nand warm days under covered porticos, and in foul eating-houses of the\nSubura, on the Milvian bridge, or before the \"insulæ\" of the great,\nwhere from time to time remnants from the tables of slaves were thrown\nout to them.\n\nPetronius was well known to those crowds. Vinicius's ears were\nstruck continually by \"Hic est!\" (Here he is). They loved him for his\nmunificence; and his peculiar popularity increased from the time when\nthey learned that he had spoken before Cæsar in opposition to the\nsentence of death issued against the whole \"familia,\" that is, against\nall the slaves of the prefect Pedanius Secundus, without distinction of\nsex or age, because one of them had killed that monster in a moment of\ndespair. Petronius repeated in public, it is true, that it was all one\nto him, and that he had spoken to Cæsar only privately, as the arbiter\nelegantiarum whose æsthetic taste was offended by a barbarous slaughter\nbefitting Scythians and not Romans. Nevertheless, people who were\nindignant because of the slaughter loved Petronius from that moment\nforth. But he did not care for their love. He remembered that that crowd\nof people had loved also Britannicus, poisoned by Nero; and Agrippina,\nkilled at his command; and Octavia, smothered in hot steam at the\nPandataria, after her veins had been opened previously; and Rubelius\nPlautus, who had been banished; and Thrasea, to whom any morning might\nbring a death sentence. The love of the mob might be considered rather\nof ill omen; and the sceptical Petronius was superstitious also. He had\na twofold contempt for the multitude,--as an aristocrat and an æsthetic\nperson. Men with the odor of roast beans, which they carried in their\nbosoms, and who besides were eternally hoarse and sweating from playing\nmora on the street-corners and peristyles, did not in his eyes deserve\nthe term \"human.\" Hence he gave no answer whatever to the applause,\nor the kisses sent from lips here and there to him. He was relating to\nMarcus the case of Pedanius, reviling meanwhile the fickleness of that\nrabble which, next morning after the terrible butchery, applauded Nero\non his way to the temple of Jupiter Stator. But he gave command to\nhalt before the book-shop of Avirnus, and, descending from the litter,\npurchased an ornamented manuscript, which he gave to Vinicius.\n\n\"Here is a gift for thee,\" said he.\n\n\"Thanks!\" answered Vinicius. Then, looking at the title, he inquired,\n\"'Satyricon'? Is this something new? Whose is it?\"\n\n\"Mine. But I do not wish to go in the road of Rufinus, whose history I\nwas to tell thee, nor of Fabricius Veiento; hence no one knows of this,\nand do thou mention it to no man.\"\n\n\"Thou hast said that thou art no writer of verses,\" said Vinicius,\nlooking at the middle of the manuscript; \"but here I see prose thickly\ninterwoven with them.\"\n\n\"When thou art reading, turn attention to Trimalchion's feast. As to\nverses, they have disgusted me, since Nero is writing an epic. Vitelius,\nwhen he wishes to relieve himself, uses ivory fingers to thrust down his\nthroat; others serve themselves with flamingo feathers steeped in olive\noil or in a decoction of wild thyme. I read Nero's poetry, and the\nresult is immediate. Straightway I am able to praise it, if not with a\nclear conscience, at least with a clear stomach.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he stopped the litter again before the shop of\nIdomeneus the goldsmith, and, having settled the affair of the gems,\ngave command to bear the litter directly to Aulus's mansion.\n\n\"On the road I will tell thee the story of Rufinus,\" said he, \"as proof\nof what vanity in an author may be.\"\n\nBut before he had begun, they turned in to the Vicus Patricius, and\nsoon found themselves before the dwelling of Aulus. A young and sturdy\n\"janitor\" opened the door leading to the ostium, over which a magpie\nconfined in a cage greeted them noisily with the word, \"Salve!\"\n\nOn the way from the second antechamber, called the ostium, to the atrium\nitself, Vinicius said,--\"Hast noticed that thee doorkeepers are\nwithout chains?\" \"This is a wonderful house,\" answered Petronius, in\nan undertone. \"Of course it is known to thee that Pomponia Græcina is\nsuspected of entertaining that Eastern superstition which consists in\nhonoring a certain Chrestos. It seems that Crispinilla rendered her\nthis service,--she who cannot forgive Pomponia because one husband has\nsufficed her for a lifetime. A one-man Woman! To-day, in Rome, it is\neasier to get a half-plate of fresh mushrooms from Noricum than to find\nsuch. They tried her before a domestic court--\"\n\n\"To thy judgment this is a wonderful house. Later on I will tell thee\nwhat I heard and saw in it.\"\n\nMeanwhile they had entered the atrium. The slave appointed to it, called\natriensis, sent a nomenclator to announce the guests; and Petronius,\nwho, imagining that eternal sadness reigned in this severe house, had\nnever been in it, looked around with astonishment, and as it were with a\nfeeling of disappointment, for the atrium produced rather an impression\nof cheerfulness. A sheaf of bright light falling from above through\na large opening broke into a thousand sparks on a fountain in a\nquadrangular little basin, called the impluvium, which was in the middle\nto receive rain falling through the opening during bad weather; this\nwas surrounded by anemones and lilies. In that house a special love for\nlilies was evident, for there were whole clumps of them, both white and\nred; and, finally, sapphire irises, whose delicate leaves were as if\nsilvered from the spray of the fountain. Among the moist mosses, in\nwhich lily-pots were hidden, and among the bunches of lilies were little\nbronze statues representing children and water-birds. In one corner a\nbronze fawn, as if wishing to drink, was inclining its greenish head,\ngrizzled, too, by dampness. The floor of the atrium was of mosaic; the\nwalls, faced partly with red marble and partly with wood, on which were\npainted fish, birds, and griffins, attracted the eye by the play of\ncolors. From the door to the side chamber they were ornamented with\ntortoise-shell or even ivory; at the walls between the doors were\nstatues of Aulus's ancestors. Everywhere calm plenty was evident, remote\nfrom excess, but noble and self-trusting.\n\nPetronius, who lived with incomparably greater show and elegance, could\nfind nothing which offended his taste; and had just turned to Vinicius\nwith that remark, when a slave, the velarius, pushed aside the curtain\nseparating the atrium from the tablinum, and in the depth of the\nbuilding appeared Aulus Plautius approaching hurriedly.\n\nHe was a man nearing the evening of life, with a head whitened by hoar\nfrost, but fresh, with an energetic face, a trifle too short, but still\nsomewhat eagle-like. This time there was expressed on it a certain\nastonishment, and even alarm, because of the unexpected arrival of\nNero's friend, companion, and suggester.\n\nPetronius was too much a man of the world and too quick not to notice\nthis; hence, after the first greetings, he announced with all the\neloquence and ease at his command that he had come to give thanks\nfor the care which his sister's son had found in that house, and that\ngratitude alone was the cause of the visit, to which, moreover, he was\nemboldened by his old acquaintance with Aulus.\n\nAulus assured him that he was a welcome guest; and as to gratitude, he\ndeclared that he had that feeling himself, though surely Petronius did\nnot divine the cause of it.\n\nIn fact, Petronius did not divine it. In vain did he raise his hazel\neyes, endeavoring to remember the least service rendered to Aulus or to\nany one. He recalled none, unless it might be that which he intended\nto show Vinicius. Some such thing, it is true, might have happened\ninvoluntarily, but only involuntarily.\n\n\"I have great love and esteem for Vespasian, whose life thou didst\nsave,\" said Aulus, \"when he had the misfortune to doze while listening\nto Nero's verses.\"\n\n\"He was fortunate,\" replied Petronius, \"for he did not hear them; but\nI will not deny that the matter might have ended with misfortune.\nBronzebeard wished absolutely to send a centurion to him with the\nfriendly advice to open his veins.\"\n\n\"But thou, Petronius, laughed him out of it.\"\n\n\"That is true, or rather it is not true. I told Nero that if Orpheus put\nwild beasts to sleep with song, his triumph was equal, since he had put\nVespasian to sleep. Ahenobarbus may be blamed on condition that to a\nsmall criticism a great flattery be added. Our gracious Augusta, Poppæa,\nunderstands this to perfection.\"\n\n\"Alas! such are the times,\" answered Aulus. \"I lack two front teeth,\nknocked out by a stone from the hand of a Briton, I speak with a hiss;\nstill my happiest days were passed in Britain.\"\n\n\"Because they were days of victory,\" added Vinicius.\n\nBut Petronius, alarmed lest the old general might begin a narrative of\nhis former wars, changed the conversation.\n\n\"See,\" said he, \"in the neighborhood of Præneste country people found\na dead wolf whelp with two heads; and during a storm about that\ntime lightning struck off an angle of the temple of Luna,--a thing\nunparalleled, because of the late autumn. A certain Cotta, too, who\nhad told this, added, while telling it, that the priests of that temple\nprophesied the fall of the city or, at least, the ruin of a great\nhouse,--ruin to be averted only by uncommon sacrifices.\"\n\nAulus, when he had heard the narrative, expressed the opinion that such\nsigns should not be neglected; that the gods might be angered by an\nover-measure of wickedness. In this there was nothing wonderful; and in\nsuch an event expiatory sacrifices were perfectly in order.\n\n\"Thy house, Plautius, is not too large,\" answered Petronius, \"though\na great man lives in it. Mine is indeed too large for such a wretched\nowner, though equally small. But if it is a question of the ruin of\nsomething as great, for example, as the domus transitoria, would it be\nworth while for us to bring offerings to avert that ruin?\"\n\nPlautius did not answer that question,--a carefulness which touched even\nPetronius somewhat, for, with all his inability to feel the difference\nbetween good and evil, he had never been an informer; and it was\npossible to talk with him in perfect safety. He changed the conversation\nagain, therefore, and began to praise Plautius's dwelling and the good\ntaste which reigned in the house.\n\n\"It is an ancient seat,\" said Plautius, \"in which nothing has been\nchanged since I inherited it.\"\n\nAfter the curtain was pushed aside which divided the atrium from the\ntablinum, the house was open from end to end, so that through the\ntablinum and the following peristyle and the hall lying beyond it which\nwas called the oecus, the glance extended to the garden, which seemed\nfrom a distance like a bright image set in a dark frame. Joyous,\nchildlike laughter came from it to the atrium.\n\n\"Oh, general!\" said Petronius, \"permit us to listen from near by to that\nglad laughter which is of a kind heard so rarely in these days.\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" answered Plautius, rising; \"that is my little Aulus and\nLygia, playing ball. But as to laughter, I think, Petronius, that our\nwhole life is spent in it.\"\n\n\"Life deserves laughter, hence people laugh at it,\" answered Petronius,\n\"but laughter here has another sound.\"\n\n\"Petronius does not laugh for days in succession,\" said Vinicius; \"but\nthen he laughs entire nights.\"\n\nThus conversing, they passed through the length of the house and reached\nthe garden, where Lygia and little Aulus were playing with balls, which\nslaves, appointed to that game exclusively and called spheristæ, picked\nup and placed in their hands. Petronius cast a quick passing glance at\nLygia; little Aulus, seeing Vinicius, ran to greet him; but the young\ntribune, going forward, bent his head before the beautiful maiden, who\nstood with a ball in her hand, her hair blown apart a little. She was\nsomewhat out of breath, and flushed.\n\nIn the garden triclinium, shaded by ivy, grapes, and woodbine, sat\nPomponia Græcina; hence they went to salute her. She was known to\nPetronius, though he did not visit Plautius, for he had seen her at the\nhouse of Antistia, the daughter of Rubelius Plautus, and besides at the\nhouse of Seneca and Polion. He could not resist a certain admiration\nwith which he was filled by her face, pensive but mild, by the dignity\nof her bearing, by her movements, by her words. Pomponia disturbed his\nunderstanding of women to such a degree that that man, corrupted to the\nmarrow of his bones, and self-confident as no one in Rome, not only felt\nfor her a kind of esteem, but even lost his previous self-confidence.\nAnd now, thanking her for her care of Vinicius, he thrust in, as it were\ninvoluntarily, \"domina,\" which never occurred to him when speaking, for\nexample, to Calvia Crispinilla, Scribonia, Veleria, Solina, and other\nwomen of high society. After he had greeted her and returned thanks, he\nbegan to complain that he saw her so rarely, that it was not possible to\nmeet her either in the Circus or the Amphitheatre; to which she answered\ncalmly, laying her hand on the hand of her husband:\n\n\"We are growing old, and love our domestic quiet more and more, both of\nus.\"\n\nPetronius wished to oppose; but Aulus Plautius added in his hissing\nvoice,--\"And we feel stranger and stranger among people who give Greek\nnames to our Roman divinities.\"\n\n\"The gods have become for some time mere figures of rhetoric,\" replied\nPetronius, carelessly. \"But since Greek rhetoricians taught us, it is\neasier for me even to say Hera than Juno.\"\n\nHe turned his eyes then to Pomponia, as if to signify that in presence\nof her no other divinity could come to his mind: and then he began to\ncontradict what she had said touching old age.\n\n\"People grow old quickly, it is true; but there are some who live\nanother life entirely, and there are faces moreover which Saturn seems\nto forget.\"\n\nPetronius said this with a certain sincerity even, for Pomponia Græcina,\nthough descending from the midday of life, had preserved an uncommon\nfreshness of face; and since she had a small head and delicate features,\nshe produced at times, despite her dark robes, despite her solemnity and\nsadness, the impression of a woman quite young.\n\nMeanwhile little Aulus, who had become uncommonly friendly with Vinicius\nduring his former stay in the house, approached the young man and\nentreated him to play ball. Lygia herself entered the triclinium after\nthe little boy. Under the climbing ivy, with the light quivering on her\nface, she seemed to Petronius more beautiful than at the first glance,\nand really like some nymph. As he had not spoken to her thus far,\nhe rose, inclined his head, and, instead of the usual expressions of\ngreeting, quoted the words with which Ulysses greeted Nausikaa,--\n\n\"I supplicate thee, O queen, whether thou art some goddess or a mortal!\nIf thou art one of the daughters of men who dwell on earth, thrice\nblessed are thy father and thy lady mother, and thrice blessed thy\nbrethren.\"\n\nThe exquisite politeness of this man of the world pleased even Pomponia.\nAs to Lygia, she listened, confused and flushed, without boldness to\nraise her eyes. But a wayward smile began to quiver at the corners of\nher lips, and on her face a struggle was evident between the timidity\nof a maiden and the wish to answer; but clearly the wish was victorious,\nfor, looking quickly at Petronius, she answered him all at once with the\nwords of that same Nausikaa, quoting them at one breath, and a little\nlike a lesson learned,--\n\n\"Stranger, thou seemest no evil man nor foolish.\"\n\nThen she turned and ran out as a frightened bird runs.\n\nThis time the turn for astonishment came to Petronius, for he had not\nexpected to hear verses of Homer from the lips of a maiden of whose\nbarbarian extraction he had heard previously from Vinicius. Hence he\nlooked with an inquiring glance at Pomponia; but she could not give\nhim an answer, for she was looking at that moment, with a smile, at the\npride reflected on the face of her husband.\n\nHe was not able to conceal that pride. First, he had become attached\nto Lygia as to his own daughter; and second, in spite of his old Roman\nprejudices, which commanded him to thunder against Greek and the spread\nof the language, he considered it as the summit of social polish. He\nhimself had never been able to learn it well; over this he suffered in\nsecret. He was glad, therefore, that an answer was given in the language\nand poetry of Homer to this exquisite man both of fashion and letters,\nwho was ready to consider Plautius's house as barbarian.\n\n\"We have in the house a pedagogue, a Greek,\" said he, turning to\nPetronius, \"who teaches our boy, and the maiden overhears the lessons.\nShe is a wagtail yet, but a dear one, to which we have both grown\nattached.\"\n\nPetronius looked through the branches of woodbine into the garden, and\nat the three persons who were playing there. Vinicius had thrown aside\nhis toga, and, wearing only his tunic, was striking the ball, which\nLygia, standing opposite, with raised arms was trying to catch. The\nmaiden did not make a great impression on Petronius at the first glance;\nshe seemed to him too slender. But from the moment when he saw her more\nnearly in the triclinium he thought to himself that Aurora might look\nlike her; and as a judge he understood that in her there was something\nuncommon. He considered everything and estimated everything; hence her\nface, rosy and clear, her fresh lips, as if set for a kiss, her eyes\nblue as the azure of the sea, the alabaster whiteness of her forehead,\nthe wealth of her dark hair, with the reflection of amber or Corinthian\nbronze gleaming in its folds, her slender neck, the divine slope of her\nshoulders, the whole posture, flexible, slender, young with the youth of\nMay and of freshly opened flowers. The artist was roused in him, and the\nworshipper of beauty, who felt that beneath a statue of that maiden one\nmight write \"Spring.\" All at once he remembered Chrysothemis, and pure\nlaughter seized him. Chrysothemis seemed to him, with golden powder on\nher hair and darkened brows, to be fabulously faded,--something in\nthe nature of a yellowed rose-tree shedding its leaves. But still Rome\nenvied him that Chrysothemis. Then he recalled Poppæa; and that most\nfamous Poppæa also seemed to him soulless, a waxen mask. In that maiden\nwith Tanagrian outlines there was not only spring, but a radiant soul,\nwhich shone through her rosy body as a flame through a lamp.\n\n\"Vinicius is right,\" thought he, \"and my Chrysothemis is old, old!--as\nTroy!\"\n\nThen he turned to Pomponia Græcina, and, pointing to the garden,\nsaid,--\"I understand now, domina, why thou and thy husband prefer this\nhouse to the Circus and to feasts on the Palatine.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered she, turning her eyes in the direction of little Aulus\nand Lygia.\n\nBut the old general began to relate the history of the maiden, and what\nhe had heard years before from Atelius Hister about the Lygian people\nwho lived in the gloom of the North.\n\nThe three outside had finished playing ball, and for some time had\nbeen walking along the sand of the garden, appearing against the dark\nbackground of myrtles and cypresses like three white statues. Lygia held\nlittle Aulus by the hand. After they had walked a while they sat on a\nbench near the fish-pond, which occupied the middle of the garden. After\na time Aulus sprang up to frighten the fish in the transparent water,\nbut Vinicius continued the conversation begun during the walk.\n\n\"Yes,\" said he, in a low, quivering voice, scarcely audible; \"barely had\nI cast aside the pretexta, when I was sent to the legions in Asia. I\nhad not become acquainted with the city, nor with life, nor with love.\nI know a small bit of Anacreon by heart, and Horace; but I cannot like\nPetronius quote verses, when reason is dumb from admiration and unable\nto find its own words. While a youth I went to school to Musonius,\nwho told me that happiness consists in wishing what the gods wish, and\ntherefore depends on our will. I think, however, that it is something\nelse,--something greater and more precious, which depends not on\nthe will, for love only can give it. The gods themselves seek that\nhappiness; hence I too, O Lygia, who have not known love thus\nfar, follow in their footsteps. I also seek her who would give me\nhappiness--\"\n\nHe was silent--and for a time there was nothing to be heard save the\nlight plash of the water into which little Aulus was throwing pebbles\nto frighten the fish; but after a while Vinicius began again in a voice\nstill softer and lower,--\"But thou knowest of Vespasian's son Titus?\nThey say that he had scarcely ceased to be a youth when he so loved\nBerenice that grief almost drew the life out of him. So could I too\nlove, O Lygia! Riches, glory, power are mere smoke, vanity! The rich\nman will find a richer than himself; the greater glory of another\nwill eclipse a man who is famous; a strong man will be conquered by a\nstronger. But can Cæsar himself, can any god even, experience greater\ndelight or be happier than a simple mortal at the moment when at his\nbreast there is breathing another dear breast, or when he kisses beloved\nlips? Hence love makes us equal to the gods, O Lygia.\"\n\nAnd she listened with alarm, with astonishment, and at the same time as\nif she were listening to the sound of a Grecian flute or a cithara. It\nseemed to her at moments that Vinicius was singing a kind of wonderful\nsong, which was instilling itself into her ears, moving the blood in\nher, and penetrating her heart with a faintness, a fear, and a kind\nof uncomprehended delight. It seemed to her also that he was telling\nsomething which was in her before, but of which she could not give\naccount to herself. She felt that he was rousing in her something which\nhad been sleeping hitherto, and that in that moment a hazy dream\nwas changing into a form more and more definite, more pleasing, more\nbeautiful.\n\nMeanwhile the sun had passed the Tiber long since, and had sunk low over\nthe Janiculum. On the motionless cypresses ruddy light was falling, and\nthe whole atmosphere was filled with it. Lygia raised on Vinicius her\nblue eyes as if roused from sleep; and he, bending over her with a\nprayer quivering in his eyes, seemed on a sudden, in the reflections\nof evening, more beautiful than all men, than all Greek and Roman gods\nwhose statues she had seen on the façades of temples. And with\nhis fingers he clasped her arm lightly just above the wrist and\nasked,--\"Dost thou not divine what I say to thee, Lygia?\"\n\n\"No,\" whispered she as answer, in a voice so low that Vinicius barely\nheard it.\n\nBut he did not believe her, and, drawing her hand toward him more\nvigorously, he would have drawn it to his heart, which, under the\ninfluence of desire roused by the marvellous maiden, was beating like a\nhammer, and would have addressed burning words to her directly had not\nold Aulus appeared on a path set in a frame of myrtles, who said,\nwhile approaching them,--\"The sun is setting; so beware of the evening\ncoolness, and do not trifle with Libitina.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Vinicius; \"I have not put on my toga yet, and I do not\nfeel the cold.\"\n\n\"But see, barely half the sun's shield is looking from behind the hill.\nThat is a sweet climate of Sicily, where people gather on the square\nbefore sunset and take farewell of disappearing Phoebus with a choral\nsong.\"\n\nAnd, forgetting that a moment earlier he had warned them against\nLibitina, he began to tell about Sicily, where he had estates and large\ncultivated fields which he loved. He stated also that it had come to his\nmind more than once to remove to Sicily, and live out his life there in\nquietness. \"He whose head winters have whitened has bad enough of hoar\nfrost. Leaves are not falling from the trees yet, and the sky smiles on\nthe city lovingly; but when the grapevines grow yellow-leaved, when snow\nfalls on the Alban hills, and the gods visit the Campania with piercing\nwind, who knows but I may remove with my entire household to my quiet\ncountry-seat?\"\n\n\"Wouldst thou leave Rome?\" inquired Vinicius, with sudden alarm.\n\n\"I have wished to do so this long time, for it is quieter in Sicily and\nsafer.\"\n\nAnd again he fell to praising his gardens, his herds, his house hidden\nin green, and the hills grown over with thyme and savory, among which\nwere swarms of buzzing bees. But Vinicius paid no heed to that bucolic\nnote; and from thinking only of this, that he might lose Lygia, he\nlooked toward Petronius as if expecting salvation from him alone.\n\nMeanwhile Petronius, sitting near Pomponia, was admiring the view of\nthe setting sun, the garden, and the people standing near the fish-pond.\nTheir white garments on the dark background of the myrtles gleamed like\ngold from the evening rays. On the sky the evening light had begun to\nassume purple and violet hues, and to change like an opal. A strip of\nthe sky became lily-colored. The dark silhouettes of the cypresses grew\nstill more pronounced than during bright daylight. In the people, in the\ntrees, in the whole garden there reigned an evening calm.\n\nThat calm struck Petronius, and it struck him especially in the people.\nIn the faces of Pomponia, old Aulus, their son, and Lygia there was\nsomething such as he did not see in the faces which surrounded him every\nday, or rather every night. There was a certain light, a certain repose,\na certain serenity, flowing directly from the life which all lived\nthere. And with a species of astonishment he thought that a beauty and\nsweetness might exist which he, who chased after beauty and sweetness\ncontinually, had not known. He could not hide the thought in himself,\nand said, turning to Pomponia,--\"I am considering in my soul how\ndifferent this world of yours is from the world which our Nero rules.\"\n\nShe raised her delicate face toward the evening light, and said with\nsimplicity,--\"Not Nero, but God, rules the world.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed. Near the triclinium were heard in the\nalley, the steps of the old general, Vinicius, Lygia, and little Aulus;\nbut before they arrived, Petronius had put another question--\"But\nbelievest thou in the gods, then, Pomponia?\"\n\n\"I believe in God, who is one, just, and all-powerful,\" answered the\nwife of Aulus Plautius.\n\n\n\n\nChapter III\n\n\n\"SHE believes in God who is one, all-powerful, and just,\" said\nPetronius, when he found himself again in the litter with Vinicius. \"If\nher God is all-powerful, He controls life and death; and if He is\njust, He sends death justly. Why, then, does Pomponia wear mourning for\nJulius? In mourning for Julius she blames her God. I must repeat this\nreasoning to our Bronzebeard, the monkey, since I consider that in\ndialectics I am the equal of Socrates. As to women, I agree that each\nhas three or four souls, but none of them a reasoning one. Let Pomponia\nmeditate with Seneca or Cornutus over the question of what their great\nLogos is. Let them summon at once the shades of Xenophanes, Parmenides,\nZeno, and Plato, who are as much wearied there in Cimmerian regions as\na finch in a cage. I wished to talk with her and with Plautius about\nsomething else. By the holy stomach of the Egyptian Isis! If I had told\nthem right out directly why we came, I suppose that their virtue would\nhave made as much noise as a bronze shield under the blow of a club.\nAnd I did not dare to tell! Wilt thou believe, Vinicius, I did not dare!\nPeacocks are beautiful birds, but they have too shrill a cry. I feared\nan outburst. But I must praise thy choice. A real 'rosy-fingered\nAurora.' And knowest thou what she reminded me of too?--Spring! not our\nspring in Italy, where an apple-tree merely puts forth a blossom here\nand there, and olive groves grow gray, just as they were gray before,\nbut the spring which I saw once in Helvetia,--young, fresh, bright\ngreen. By that pale moon, I do not wonder at thee, Marcus; but know that\nthou art loving Diana, because Aulus and Pomponia are ready to tear thee\nto pieces, as the dogs once tore Actæon.\"\n\nVinicius was silent a time without raising his head; then he began to\nspeak with a voice broken by passion,--\"I desired her before, but now I\ndesire her still more. When I caught her arm, flame embraced me. I\nmust have her. Were I Zeus, I would surround her with a cloud, as he\nsurrounded Io, or I would fall on her in rain, as he fell on Danaë; I\nwould kiss her lips till it pained! I would hear her scream in my arms.\nI would kill Aulus and Pomponia, and bear her home in my arms. I will\nnot sleep to-night. I will give command to flog one of my slaves, and\nlisten to his groans--\"\n\n\"Calm thyself,\" said Petronius. \"Thou hast the longing of a carpenter\nfrom the Subura.\"\n\n\"All one to me what thou sayst. I must have her. I have turned to thee\nfor aid; but if thou wilt not find it, I shall find it myself. Aulus\nconsiders Lygia as a daughter; why should I look on her as a slave? And\nsince there is no other way, let her ornament the door of my house, let\nher anoint it with wolf's fat, and let her sit at my hearth as wife.\"\n\n\"Calm thyself, mad descendant of consuls. We do not lead in barbarians\nbound behind our cars, to make wives of their daughters. Beware of\nextremes. Exhaust simple, honorable methods, and give thyself and me\ntime for meditation. Chrysothemis seemed to me too a daughter of Jove,\nand still I did not marry her, just as Nero did not marry Acte, though\nthey called her a daughter of King Attalus. Calm thyself! Think that if\nshe wishes to leave Aulus for thee, he will have no right to detain her.\nKnow also that thou art not burning alone, for Eros has roused in her\nthe flame too. I saw that, and it is well to believe me. Have patience.\nThere is a way to do everything, but to-day I have thought too much\nalready, and it tires me. But I promise that to-morrow I will think of\nthy love, and unless Petronius is not Petronius, he will discover some\nmethod.\"\n\nThey were both silent again.\n\n\"I thank thee,\" said Vinicius at last. \"May Fortune be bountiful to\nthee.\"\n\n\"Be patient.\"\n\n\"Whither hast thou given command to bear us?\"\n\n\"To Chrysothemis.\"\n\n\"Thou art happy in possessing her whom thou lovest.\"\n\n\"I? Dost thou know what amuses me yet in Chrysothemis? This, that she is\nfalse to me with my freedman Theokles, and thinks that I do not\nnotice it. Once I loved her, but now she amuses me with her lying and\nstupidity. Come with me to her. Should she begin to flirt with thee, and\nwrite letters on the table with her fingers steeped in wine, know that I\nshall not be jealous.\"\n\nAnd he gave command to bear them both to Chrysothemis.\n\nBut in the entrance Petronius put his hand on Vinicius's shoulder, and\nsaid,--\"Wait; it seems to me that I have discovered a plan.\"\n\n\"May all the gods reward thee!\"\n\n\"I have it! I judge that this plan is infallible. Knowest what, Marcus?\"\n\n\"I listen to thee, my wisdom.\"\n\n\"Well, in a few days the divine Lygia will partake of Demeter's grain in\nthy house.\"\n\n\"Thou art greater than Cæsar!\" exclaimed Vinicius with enthusiasm.\n\n\n\n\nChapter IV\n\n\nIN fact, Petronius kept his promise. He slept all the day following his\nvisit to Chrysothemis, it is true; but in the evening he gave command to\nbear him to the Palatine, where he had a confidential conversation with\nNero; in consequence of this, on the third day a centurion, at the\nhead of some tens of pretorian soldiers, appeared before the house of\nPlautius.\n\nThe period was uncertain and terrible. Messengers of this kind were more\nfrequently heralds of death. So when the centurion struck the hammer at\nAulus's door, and when the guard of the atrium announced that there\nwere soldiers in the anteroom, terror rose through the whole house.\nThe family surrounded the old general at once, for no one doubted that\ndanger hung over him above all. Pomponia, embracing his neck with\nher arms, clung to him with all her strength, and her blue lips moved\nquickly while uttering some whispered phrase. Lygia, with a face pale\nas linen, kissed his hand; little Aulus clung to his toga. From the\ncorridor, from chambers in the lower story intended for servant-women\nand attendants, from the bath, from the arches of lower dwellings, from\nthe whole house, crowds of slaves began to hurry out, and the cries of\n\"Heu! heu, me miserum!\" were heard. The women broke into great weeping;\nsome scratched their cheeks, or covered their heads with kerchiefs.\n\nOnly the old general himself, accustomed for years to look death\nstraight in the eye, remained calm, and his short eagle face became as\nrigid as if chiselled from stone. After a while, when he had silenced\nthe uproar, and commanded the attendants to disappear, he said,--\"Let me\ngo, Pomponia. If my end has come, we shall have time to take leave.\"\n\nAnd he pushed her aside gently; but she said,--\"God grant thy fate and\nmine to be one, O Aulus!\"\n\nThen, failing on her knees, she began to pray with that force which fear\nfor some dear one alone can give.\n\nAulus passed out to the atrium, where the centurion was waiting for him.\nIt was old Caius Hasta, his former subordinate and companion in British\nwars.\n\n\"I greet thee, general,\" said he. \"I bring a command, and the greeting\nof Cæsar; here are the tablets and the signet to show that I come in his\nname.\"\n\n\"I am thankful to Cæsar for the greeting, and I shall obey the command,\"\nanswered Aulus. \"Be welcome, Hasta, and say what command thou hast\nbrought.\"\n\n\"Aulus Plautius,\" began Hasta, \"Cæsar has learned that in thy house is\ndwelling the daughter of the king of the Lygians, whom that king during\nthe life of the divine Claudius gave into the hands of the Romans as a\npledge that the boundaries of the empire would never be violated by the\nLygians. The divine Nero is grateful to thee, O general, because thou\nhast given her hospitality in thy house for so many years; but, not\nwishing to burden thee longer, and considering also that the maiden as\na hostage should be under the guardianship of Cæsar and the senate, he\ncommands thee to give her into my hands.\"\n\nAulus was too much a soldier and too much a veteran to permit himself\nregret in view of an order, or vain words, or complaint. A slight\nwrinkle of sudden anger and pain, however, appeared on his forehead.\nBefore that frown legions in Britain had trembled on a time, and even\nat that moment fear was evident on the face of Hasta. But in view of the\norder, Aulus Plautius felt defenceless. He looked for some time at the\ntablets and the signet; then raising his eyes to the old centurion, he\nsaid calmly,--\"Wait, Hasta, in the atrium till the hostage is delivered\nto thee.\"\n\nAfter these words he passed to the other end of the house, to the\nhall called oecus, where Pomponia Græcina, Lygia, and little Aulus were\nwaiting for him in fear and alarm.\n\n\"Death threatens no one, nor banishment to distant islands,\" said he;\n\"still Cæsar's messenger is a herald of misfortune. It is a question of\nthee, Lygia.\"\n\n\"Of Lygia?\" exclaimed Pomponia, with astonishment.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Aulus.\n\nAnd turning to the maiden, he began: \"Lygia, thou wert reared in our\nhouse as our own child; I and Pomponia love thee as our daughter. But\nknow this, that thou art not our daughter. Thou art a hostage, given\nby thy people to Rome, and guardianship over thee belongs to Cæsar. Now\nCæsar takes thee from our house.\"\n\nThe general spoke calmly, but with a certain strange, unusual voice.\nLygia listened to his words, blinking, as if not understanding what the\nquestion was. Pomponia's cheeks became pallid. In the doors leading\nfrom the corridor to the oecus, terrified faces of slaves began to show\nthemselves a second time.\n\n\"The will of Cæsar must be accomplished,\" said Aulus.\n\n\"Aulus!\" exclaimed Pomponia, embracing the maiden with her arms, as if\nwishing to defend her, \"it would be better for her to die.\"\n\nLygia, nestling up to her breast, repeated, \"Mother, mother!\" unable in\nher sobbing to find other words.\n\nOn Aulus's face anger and pain were reflected again. \"If I were alone in\nthe world,\" said he, gloomily, \"I would not surrender her alive, and my\nrelatives might give offerings this day to 'Jupiter Liberator.' But I\nhave not the right to kill thee and our child, who may live to happier\ntimes. I will go to Cæsar this day, and implore him to change his\ncommand. Whether he will hear me, I know not. Meanwhile, farewell,\nLygia, and know that I and Pomponia ever bless the day in which thou\ndidst take thy seat at our hearth.\"\n\nThus speaking, he placed his hand on her head; but though he strove to\npreserve his calmness, when Lygia turned to him eyes filled with tears,\nand seizing his hand pressed it to her lips, his voice was filled with\ndeep fatherly sorrow.\n\n\"Farewell, our joy, and the light of our eyes,\" said he.\n\nAnd he went to the atrium quickly, so as not to let himself be conquered\nby emotion unworthy of a Roman and a general.\n\nMeanwhile Pomponia, when she had conducted Lygia to the cubiculum, began\nto comfort, console, and encourage her, uttering words meanwhile which\nsounded strangely in that house, where near them in an adjoining chamber\nthe lararium remained yet, and where the hearth was on which Aulus\nPlautius, faithful to ancient usage, made offerings to the household\ndivinities. Now the hour of trial had come. On a time Virginius had\npierced the bosom of his own daughter to save her from the hands of\nAppius; still earlier Lucretia had redeemed her shame with her life.\nThe house of Cæsar is a den of infamy, of evil, of crime. But we, Lygia,\nknow why we have not the right to raise hands on ourselves! Yes! The law\nunder which we both live is another, a greater, a holier, but it gives\npermission to defend oneself from evil and shame even should it happen\nto pay for that defence with life and torment. Whoso goes forth pure\nfrom the dwelling of corruption has the greater merit thereby. The earth\nis that dwelling; but fortunately life is one twinkle of the eye, and\nresurrection is only from the grave; beyond that not Nero, but Mercy\nbears rule, and there instead of pain is delight, there instead of tears\nis rejoicing.\n\nNext she began to speak of herself. Yes! she was calm; but in her breast\nthere was no lack of painful wounds. For example, Aulus was a cataract\non her eye; the fountain of light had not flowed to him yet. Neither was\nit permitted her to rear her son in Truth. When she thought, therefore,\nthat it might be thus to the end of her life, and that for them a moment\nof separation might come which would be a hundred times more grievous\nand terrible than that temporary one over which they were both suffering\nthen, she could not so much as understand how she might be happy even in\nheaven without them. And she had wept many nights through already, she\nhad passed many nights in prayer, imploring grace and mercy. But she\noffered her suffering to God, and waited and trusted. And now, when\na new blow struck her, when the tyrant's command took from her a dear\none,--the one whom Aulus had called the light of their eyes,--she\ntrusted yet, believing that there was a power greater than Nero's and a\nmercy mightier than his anger.\n\nAnd she pressed the maiden's head to her bosom still more firmly. Lygia\ndropped to her knees after a while, and, covering her eyes in the folds\nof Pomponia's peplus, she remained thus a long time in silence; but when\nshe stood up again, some calmness was evident on her face.\n\n\"I grieve for thee, mother, and for father and for my brother; but I\nknow that resistance is useless, and would destroy all of us. I promise\nthee that in the house of Cæsar I will never forget thy words.\"\n\nOnce more she threw her arms around Pomponia's neck; then both went out\nto the oecus, and she took farewell of little Aulus, of the old Greek\ntheir teacher, of the dressing-maid who had been her nurse, and of all\nthe slaves. One of these, a tall and broad-shouldered Lygian, called\nUrsus in the house, who with other servants had in his time gone with\nLygia's mother and her to the camp of the Romans, fell now at her feet,\nand then bent down to the knees of Pomponia, saying,--\"O domina! permit\nme to go with my lady, to serve her and watch over her in the house of\nCæsar.\"\n\n\"Thou art not our servant, but Lygia's,\" answered Pomponia; \"but if they\nadmit thee through Cæsar's doors, in what way wilt thou be able to watch\nover her?\"\n\n\"I know not, domina; I know only that iron breaks in my hands just as\nwood does.\"\n\nWhen Aulus, who came up at that moment, had heard what the question was,\nnot only did he not oppose the wishes of Ursus, but he declared that he\nhad not even the right to detain him. They were sending away Lygia as a\nhostage whom Cæsar had claimed, and they were obliged in the same way to\nsend her retinue, which passed with her to the control of Cæsar. Here he\nwhispered to Pomponia that under the form of an escort she could add as\nmany slaves as she thought proper, for the centurion could not refuse to\nreceive them.\n\nThere was a certain comfort for Lygia in this. Pomponia also was glad\nthat she could surround her with servants of her own choice. Therefore,\nbesides Ursus, she appointed to her the old tire-woman, two maidens from\nCyprus well skilled in hair-dressing, and two German maidens for the\nbath. Her choice fell exclusively on adherents of the new faith; Ursus,\ntoo, had professed it for a number of years. Pomponia could count on the\nfaithfulness of those servants, and at the same time consoled herself\nwith the thought that soon grains of truth would be in Cæsar's house.\n\nShe wrote a few words also, committing care over Lygia to Nero's\nfreedwoman, Acte. Pomponia had not seen her, it is true, at meetings of\nconfessors of the new faith; but she had heard from them that Acte had\nnever refused them a service, and that she read the letters of Paul of\nTarsus eagerly. It was known to her also that the young freedwoman lived\nin melancholy, that she was a person different from all other women of\nNero's house, and that in general she was the good spirit of the palace.\n\nHasta engaged to deliver the letter himself to Acte. Considering it\nnatural that the daughter of a king should have a retinue of her own\nservants, he did not raise the least difficulty in taking them to the\npalace, but wondered rather that there should be so few. He begged\nhaste, however, fearing lest he might be suspected of want of zeal in\ncarrying out orders.\n\nThe moment of parting came. The eyes of Pomponia and Lygia were filled\nwith fresh tears; Aulus placed his hand on her head again, and after a\nwhile the soldiers, followed by the cry of little Aulus, who in defence\nof his sister threatened the centurion with his small fists, conducted\nLygia to Cæsar's house.\n\nThe old general gave command to prepare his litter at once; meanwhile,\nshutting himself up with Pomponia in the pinacotheca adjoining the oecus,\nhe said to her,--\"Listen to me, Pomponia. I will go to Cæsar, though\nI judge that my visit will be useless; and though Seneca's word means\nnothing with Nero now, I will go also to Seneca. To-day Sophonius,\nTigellinus, Petronius, or Vatinius have more influence. As to Cæsar,\nperhaps he has never even heard of the Lygian people; and if he has\ndemanded the delivery of Lygia, the hostage, he has done so because some\none persuaded him to it,--it is easy to guess who could do that.\"\n\nShe raised her eyes to him quickly.\n\n\"Is it Petronius?\"\n\n\"It is.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed; then the general continued,--\"See what it\nis to admit over the threshold any of those people without conscience or\nhonor. Cursed be the moment in which Vinicius entered our house, for\nhe brought Petronius. Woe to Lygia, since those men are not seeking a\nhostage, but a concubine.\"\n\nAnd his speech became more hissing than usual, because of helpless rage\nand of sorrow for his adopted daughter. He struggled with himself some\ntime, and only his clenched fists showed how severe was the struggle\nwithin him.\n\n\"I have revered the gods so far,\" said he; \"but at this moment I think\nthat not they are over the world, but one mad, malicious monster named\nNero.\"\n\n\"Aulus,\" said Pomponia. \"Nero is only a handful of rotten dust before\nGod.\"\n\nBut Aulus began to walk with long steps over the mosaic of the\npinacotheca. In his life there had been great deeds, but no great\nmisfortunes; hence he was unused to them. The old soldier had grown more\nattached to Lygia than he himself had been aware of, and now he could\nnot be reconciled to the thought that he had lost her. Besides, he felt\nhumiliated. A hand was weighing on him which he despised, and at the\nsame time he felt that before its power his power was as nothing.\n\nBut when at last he stifled in himself the anger which disturbed his\nthoughts, he said,--\"I judge that Petronius has not taken her from\nus for Cæsar, since he would not offend Poppæa. Therefore he took her\neither for himself or Vinicius. Today I will discover this.\"\n\nAnd after a while the litter bore him in the direction of the Palatine.\nPomponia, when left alone, went to little Aulus, who did not cease\ncrying for his sister, or threatening Cæsar.\n\n\n\n\nChapter V\n\n\nAULUS had judged rightly that he would not be admitted to Nero's\npresence. They told him that Cæsar was occupied in singing with the\nlute-player, Terpnos, and that in general he did not receive those whom\nhe himself had not summoned. In other words, that Aulus must not attempt\nin future to see him.\n\nSeneca, though ill with a fever, received the old general with due\nhonor; but when he had heard what the question was, he laughed bitterly,\nand said,--\"I can render thee only one service, noble Plautius, not to\nshow Cæsar at any time that my heart feels thy pain, or that I should\nlike to aid thee; for should Cæsar have the least suspicion on this\nhead, know that he would not give thee back Lygia, though for no other\nreason than to spite me.\"\n\nHe did not advise him, either, to go to Tigellinus or Vatinius or\nVitelius. It might be possible to do something with them through money;\nperhaps, also, they would like to do evil to Petronius, whose influence\nthey were trying to undermine, but most likely they would disclose\nbefore Nero how dear Lygia was to Plautius, and then Nero would all the\nmore resolve not to yield her to him. Here the old sage began to speak\nwith a biting irony, which he turned against himself: \"Thou hast been\nsilent, Plautius, thou hast been silent for whole years, and Cæsar does\nnot like those who are silent. How couldst thou help being carried\naway by his beauty, his virtue, his singing, his declamation, his\nchariot-driving, and his verses? Why didst thou not glorify the death\nof Britannicus, and repeat panegyrics in honor of the mother-slayer,\nand not offer congratulations after the stifling of Octavia? Thou art\nlacking in foresight, Aulus, which we who live happily at the court\npossess in proper measure.\"\n\nThus speaking, he raised a goblet which he carried at his belt, took\nwater from a fountain at the impluvium, freshened his burning lips, and\ncontinued,--\"Ah, Nero has a grateful heart. He loves thee because thou\nhast served Rome and glorified its name at the ends of the earth; he\nloves me because I was his master in youth. Therefore, seest thou, I\nknow that this water is not poisoned, and I drink it in peace. Wine in\nmy own house would be less reliable. If thou art thirsty, drink boldly\nof this water. The aqueducts bring it from beyond the Alban hills, and\nany one wishing to poison it would have to poison every fountain in\nRome. As thou seest, it is possible yet to be safe in this world and to\nhave a quiet old age. I am sick, it is true, but rather in soul than in\nbody.\"\n\nThis was true. Seneca lacked the strength of soul which Cornutus\npossessed, for example, or Thrasea; hence his life was a series of\nconcessions to crime. He felt this himself; he understood that an\nadherent of the principles of Zeno, of Citium, should go by another\nroad, and he suffered more from that cause than from the fear of death\nitself.\n\nBut the general interrupted these reflections full of grief.\n\n\"Noble Annæus,\" said he, \"I know how Cæsar rewarded thee for the care\nwith which thou didst surround his years of youth. But the author of\nthe removal of Lygia is Petronius. Indicate to me a method against him,\nindicate the influences to which he yields, and use besides with him all\nthe eloquence with which friendship for me of long standing can inspire\nthee.\"\n\n\"Petronius and I,\" answered Seneca, \"are men of two opposite camps; I\nknow of no method against him, he yields to no man's influence. Perhaps\nwith all his corruption he is worthier than those scoundrels with whom\nNero surrounds himself at present. But to show him that he has done an\nevil deed is to lose time simply. Petronius has lost long since that\nfaculty which distinguishes good from evil. Show him that his act is\nugly, he will be ashamed of it. When I see him, I will say, 'Thy act is\nworthy of a freedman.' If that will not help thee, nothing can.\"\n\n\"Thanks for that, even,\" answered the general.\n\nThen he gave command to carry him to the house of Vinicius, whom he\nfound at sword practice with his domestic trainer. Aulus was borne away\nby terrible anger at sight of the young man occupied calmly with fencing\nduring the attack on Lygia; and barely had the curtain dropped\nbehind the trainer when this anger burst forth in a torrent of bitter\nreproaches and injuries. But Vinicius, when he learned that Lygia had\nbeen carried away, grew so terribly pale that Aulus could not for even\nan instant suspect him of sharing in the deed. The young man's forehead\nwas covered with sweat; the blood, which had rushed to his heart for a\nmoment, returned to his face in a burning wave; his eyes began to shoot\nsparks, his mouth to hurl disconnected questions. Jealousy and rage\ntossed him in turn, like a tempest. It seemed to him that Lygia,\nonce she had crossed the threshold of Cæsar's house, was lost to him\nabsolutely. When Aulus pronounced the name of Petronius, suspicion flew\nlike a lightning flash through the young soldier's mind, that Petronius\nhad made sport of him, and either wanted to win new favor from Nero by\nthe gift of Lygia, or keep her for himself. That any one who had seen\nLygia would not desire her at once, did not find a place in his head.\nImpetuousness, inherited in his family, carried him away like a wild\nhorse, and took from him presence of mind.\n\n\"General,\" said he, with a broken voice, \"return home and wait for me.\nKnow that if Petronius were my own father, I would avenge on him the\nwrong done to Lygia. Return home and wait for me. Neither Petronius nor\nCæsar will have her.\"\n\nThen he went with clinched fists to the waxed masks standing clothed in\nthe atrium, and burst out,--\"By those mortal masks! I would rather kill\nher and myself.\" When he had said this, he sent another \"Wait for me\"\nafter Aulus, then ran forth like a madman from the atrium, and flew to\nPetronius's house, thrusting pedestrians aside on the way.\n\nAulus returned home with a certain encouragement. He judged that if\nPetronius had persuaded Cæsar to take Lygia to give her to Vinicius,\nVinicius would bring her to their house. Finally, the thought was no\nlittle consolation to him, that should Lygia not be rescued she would be\navenged and protected by death from disgrace. He believed that Vinicius\nwould do everything that he had promised. He had seen his rage, and he\nknew the excitability innate in the whole family. He himself, though he\nloved Lygia as her own father, would rather kill her than give her\nto Cæsar; and had he not regarded his son, the last descendant of his\nstock, he would doubtless have done so. Aulus was a soldier; he had\nhardly heard of the Stoics, but in character he was not far from their\nideas,--death was more acceptable to his pride than disgrace.\n\nWhen he returned home, he pacified Pomponia, gave her the consolation\nthat he had, and both began to await news from Vinicius. At moments when\nthe steps of some of the slaves were heard in the atrium, they thought\nthat perhaps Vinicius was bringing their beloved child to them, and\nthey were ready in the depth of their souls to bless both. Time passed,\nhowever, and no news came. Only in the evening was the hammer heard on\nthe gate.\n\nAfter a while a slave entered and handed Aulus a letter. The old\ngeneral, though he liked to show command over himself, took it with a\nsomewhat trembling hand, and began to read as hastily as if it were a\nquestion of his whole house.\n\nAll at once his face darkened, as if a shadow from a passing cloud had\nfallen on it.\n\n\"Read,\" said he, turning to Pomponia.\n\nPomponia took the letter and read as follows:--\n\n\"Marcus Vinicius to Aulus Plautius greeting. What has happened, has\nhappened by the will of Cæsar, before which incline your heads, as I and\nPetronius incline ours.\"\n\nA long silence followed.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI\n\n\nPETRONIUS was at home. The doorkeeper did not dare to stop Vinicius, who\nburst into the atrium like a storm, and, learning that the master of\nthe house was in the library, he rushed into the library with the same\nimpetus. Finding Petronius writing, he snatched the reed from his hand,\nbroke it, trampled the reed on the floor, then fixed his fingers into\nhis shoulder, and, approaching his face to that of his uncle, asked,\nwith a hoarse voice,--\"What hast thou done with her? Where is she?\"\n\nSuddenly an amazing thing happened. That slender and effeminate\nPetronius seized the hand of the youthful athlete, which was grasping\nhis shoulder, then seized the other, and, holding them both in his one\nhand with the grip of an iron vice, he said,--\"I am incapable only in\nthe morning; in the evening I regain my former strength. Try to\nescape. A weaver must have taught thee gymnastics, and a blacksmith thy\nmanners.\"\n\nOn his face not even anger was evident, but in his eyes there was a\ncertain pale reflection of energy and daring. After a while he let\nthe hands of Vinicius drop. Vinicius stood before him shamefaced and\nenraged.\n\n\"Thou hast a steel hand,\" said he; \"but if thou hast betrayed me, I\nswear, by all the infernal gods, that I will thrust a knife into thy\nbody, though thou be in the chambers of Cæsar.\"\n\n\"Let us talk calmly,\" said Petronius. \"Steel is stronger, as thou seest,\nthan iron; hence, though out of one of thy arms two as large as mine\nmight be made, I have no need to fear thee. On the contrary, I grieve\nover thy rudeness, and if the ingratitude of men could astonish me yet,\nI should be astonished at thy ingratitude.\"\n\n\"Where is Lygia?\"\n\n\"In a brothel,--that is, in the house of Cæsar.\"\n\n\"Petronius!\"\n\n\"Calm thyself, and be seated. I asked Cæsar for two things, which he\npromised me,--first, to take Lygia from the house of Aulus, and second\nto give her to thee. Hast thou not a knife there under the folds of thy\ntoga? Perhaps thou wilt stab me! But I advise thee to wait a couple of\ndays, for thou wouldst be taken to prison, and meanwhile Lygia would be\nwearied in thy house.\"\n\nSilence followed. Vinicius looked for some time with astonished eyes on\nPetronius; then he said,--\"Pardon me; I love her, and love is disturbing\nmy faculties.\"\n\n\"Look at me, Marcus. The day before yesterday I spoke to Cæsar as\nfollows: 'My sister's son, Vinicius, has so fallen in love with a lean\nlittle girl who is being reared with the Auluses that his house is\nturned into a steambath from sighs. Neither thou, O Cæsar, nor I--we who\nknow, each of us, what true beauty is--would give a thousand sesterces\nfor her; but that lad has ever been as dull as a tripod, and now he has\nlost all the wit that was in him.'\"\n\n\"Petronius!\"\n\n\"If thou understand not that I said this to insure Lygia's safety, I am\nready to believe that I told the truth. I persuaded Bronzebeard that a\nman of his æsthetic nature could not consider such a girl beautiful; and\nNero, who so far has not dared to look otherwise than through my eyes,\nwill not find in her beauty, and, not finding it, will not desire her.\nIt was necessary to insure ourselves against the monkey and take him\non a rope. Not he, but Poppæa, will value Lygia now; and Poppæa will\nstrive, of course, to send the girl out of the palace at the earliest.\nI said further to Bronzebeard, in passing: 'Take Lygia and give her to\nVinicius! Thou hast the right to do so, for she is a hostage; and if\nthou take her, thou wilt inflict pain on Aulus.' He agreed; he had not\nthe least reason not to agree, all the more since I gave him a chance\nto annoy decent people. They will make thee official guardian of the\nhostage, and give into thy hands that Lygian treasure; thou, as a friend\nof the valiant Lygians, and also a faithful servant of Cæsar, wilt not\nwaste any of the treasure, but wilt strive to increase it. Cæsar, to\npreserve appearances, will keep her a few days in his house, and then\nsend her to thy insula. Lucky man!\"\n\n\"Is this true? Does nothing threaten her there in Cæsar's house?\"\n\n\"If she had to live there permanently, Poppæa would talk about her to\nLocusta, but for a few days there is no danger. Ten thousand people\nlive in it. Nero will not see her, perhaps, all the more since he left\neverything to me, to the degree that just now the centurion was here\nwith information that he had conducted the maiden to the palace and\ncommitted her to Acte. She is a good soul, that Acte; hence I gave\ncommand to deliver Lygia to her. Clearly Pomponia Græcina is of that\nopinion too, for she wrote to Acte. To-morrow there is a feast at\nNero's. I have requested a place for thee at the side of Lygia.\"\n\n\"Pardon me, Caius, my hastiness. I judged that thou hadst given command\nto take her for thyself or for Cæsar.\"\n\n\"I can forgive thy hastiness; but it is more difficult to forgive rude\ngestures, vulgar shouts, and a voice reminding one of players at mora. I\ndo not like that style, Marcus, and do thou guard against it. Know that\nTigellinus is Cæsar's pander; but know also that if I wanted the\ngirl for myself now, looking thee straight in the eyes, I would say,\n'Vinicius! I take Lygia from thee and I will keep her till I am tired of\nher.\"\n\nThus speaking, he began to look with his hazel eyes straight into the\neyes of Vinicius with a cold and insolent stare. The young man lost\nhimself completely.\n\n\"The fault is mine,\" said he. \"Thou art kind and worthy. I thank thee\nfrom my whole soul. Permit me only to put one more question: Why didst\nthou not have Lygia sent directly to my house?\"\n\n\"Because Cæsar wishes to preserve appearances. People in Rome will talk\nabout this,--that we removed Lygia as a hostage. While they are talking,\nshe will remain in Cæsar's palace. Afterward she will be removed quietly\nto thy house, and that will be the end. Bronzebeard is a cowardly\ncur. He knows that his power is unlimited, and still he tries to give\nspecious appearances to every act. Hast thou recovered to the degree of\nbeing able to philosophize a little? More than once have I thought, Why\ndoes crime, even when as powerful as Cæsar, and assured of being beyond\npunishment, strive always for the appearances of truth, justice, and\nvirtue? Why does it take the trouble? I consider that to murder a\nbrother, a mother, a wife, is a thing worthy of some petty Asiatic king,\nnot a Roman Cæsar; but if that position were mine, I should not write\njustifying letters to the Senate. But Nero writes. Nero is looking for\nappearances, for Nero is a coward. But Tiberius was not a coward;\nstill he justified every step he took. Why is this? What a marvellous,\ninvoluntary homage paid to virtue by evil! And knowest thou what strikes\nme? This, that it is done because transgression is ugly and virtue\nis beautiful. Therefore a man of genuine æsthetic feeling is also a\nvirtuous man. Hence I am virtuous. To-day I must pour out a little\nwine to the shades of Protagoras, Prodicus, and Gorgias. It seems that\nsophists too can be of service. Listen, for I am speaking yet. I took\nLygia from Aulus to give her to thee. Well. But Lysippus would have made\nwonderful groups of her and thee. Ye are both beautiful; therefore my\nact is beautiful, and being beautiful it cannot be bad. Marcus, here\nsitting before thee is virtue incarnate in Caius Petronius! If Aristides\nwere living, it would be his duty to come to me and offer a hundred minæ\nfor a short treatise on virtue.\"\n\nBut Vinicius, as a man more concerned with reality than with treatises\non virtue, replied,--\"To-morrow I shall see Lygia, and then have her in\nmy house daily, always, and till death.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt have Lygia, and I shall have Aulus on my head. He will summon\nthe vengeance of all the infernal gods against me. And if the beast\nwould take at least a preliminary lesson in good declamation! He will\nblame me, however, as my former doorkeeper blamed my clients but him I\nsent to prison in the country.\"\n\n\"Aulus has been at my house. I promised to give him news of Lygia.\"\n\n\"Write to him that the will of the 'divine' Cæsar is the highest law,\nand that thy first son will bear the name Aulus. It is necessary that\nthe old man should have some consolation. I am ready to pray Bronzebeard\nto invite him to-morrow to the feast. Let him see thee in the triclinium\nnext to Lygia.\"\n\n\"Do not do that. I am sorry for them, especially for Pomponia.\"\n\nAnd he sat down to write that letter which took from the old general the\nremnant of his hope.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII\n\n\nONCE the highest heads in Rome inclined before Acte, the former favorite\nof Nero. But even at that period she showed no desire to interfere in\npublic questions, and if on any occasion she used her influence over\nthe young ruler, it was only to implore mercy for some one. Quiet and\nunassuming, she won the gratitude of many, and made no one her enemy.\nEven Octavia was unable to hate her. To those who envied her she seemed\nexceedingly harmless. It was known that she continued to love Nero with\na sad and pained love, which lived not in hope, but only in memories of\nthe time in which that Nero was not only younger and loving, but better.\nIt was known that she could not tear her thoughts and soul from those\nmemories, but expected nothing; since there was no real fear that Nero\nwould return to her, she was looked upon as a person wholly inoffensive,\nand hence was left in peace. Poppæa considered her merely as a quiet\nservant, so harmless that she did not even try to drive her from the\npalace.\n\nBut since Cæsar had loved her once and dropped her without offence in a\nquiet and to some extent friendly manner, a certain respect was retained\nfor her. Nero, when he had freed her, let her live in the palace, and\ngave her special apartments with a few servants. And as in their time\nPallas and Narcissus, though freedmen of Claudius, not only sat\nat feasts with Claudius, but also held places of honor as powerful\nministers, so she too was invited at times to Cæsar's table. This was\ndone perhaps because her beautiful form was a real ornament to a\nfeast. Cæsar for that matter had long since ceased to count with any\nappearances in his choice of company. At his table the most varied\nmedley of people of every position and calling found places. Among them\nwere senators, but mainly those who were content to be jesters as well.\nThere were patricians, old and young, eager for luxury, excess, and\nenjoyment. There were women with great names, who did not hesitate to\nput on a yellow wig of an evening and seek adventures on dark streets\nfor amusement's sake. There were also high officials, and priests who\nat full goblets were willing to jeer at their own gods. At the side of\nthese was a rabble of every sort: singers, mimes, musicians, dancers of\nboth sexes; poets who, while declaiming, were thinking of the\nsesterces which might fall to them for praise of Cæsar's verses; hungry\nphilosophers following the dishes with eager eyes; finally, noted\ncharioteers, tricksters, miracle-wrights, tale-tellers, jesters, and the\nmost varied adventurers brought through fashion or folly to a few days'\nnotoriety. Among these were not lacking even men who covered with long\nhair their ears pierced in sign of slavery.\n\nThe most noted sat directly at the tables; the lesser served to amuse\nin time of eating, and waited for the moment in which the servants would\npermit them to rush at the remnants of food and drink. Guests of this\nsort were furnished by Tigellinus, Vatinius, and Vitelius; for these\nguests they were forced more than once to find clothing befitting the\nchambers of Cæsar, who, however, liked their society, through feeling\nmost free in it. The luxury of the court gilded everything, and\ncovered all things with glitter. High and low, the descendants of great\nfamilies, and the needy from the pavements of the city, great artists,\nand vile scrapings of talent, thronged to the palace to sate their\ndazzled eyes with a splendor almost surpassing human estimate, and to\napproach the giver of every favor, wealth, and property,--whose single\nglance might abase, it is true, but might also exalt beyond measure.\n\nThat day Lygia too had to take part in such a feast. Fear, uncertainty,\nand a dazed feeling, not to be wondered at after the sudden change, were\nstruggling in her with a wish to resist. She feared Nero; she feared the\npeople and the palace whose uproar deprived her of presence of mind;\nshe feared the feasts of whose shamelessness she had heard from Aulus,\nPomponia Græcina, and their friends. Though young, she was not without\nknowledge, for knowledge of evil in those times reached even children's\nears early. She knew, therefore, that ruin was threatening her in the\npalace. Pomponia, moreover, had warned her of this at the moment of\nparting. But having a youthful spirit, unacquainted with corruption, and\nconfessing a lofty faith, implanted in her by her foster mother, she\nhad promised to defend herself against that ruin; she had promised\nher mother, herself and also that Divine Teacher in whom she not only\nbelieved, but whom she had come to love with her half-childlike heart\nfor the sweetness of his doctrine, the bitterness of his death, and the\nglory of his resurrection.\n\nShe was confident too that now neither Aulus nor Pomponia would be\nanswerable for her actions; she was thinking therefore whether it would\nnot be better to resist and not go to the feast. On the one hand fear\nand alarm spoke audibly in her soul; on the other the wish rose in her\nto show courage in suffering, in exposure to torture and death. The\nDivine Teacher had commanded to act thus. He had given the example\nhimself. Pomponia had told her that the most earnest among the adherents\ndesire with all their souls such a test, and pray for it. And Lygia,\nwhen still in the house of Aulus, had been mastered at moments by a\nsimilar desire. She had seen herself as a martyr, with wounds on her\nfeet and hands, white as snow, beautiful with a beauty not of earth, and\nborne by equally white angels into the azure sky; and her imagination\nadmired such a vision. There was in it much childish brooding, but\nthere was in it also something of delight in herself, which Pomponia had\nreprimanded. But now, when opposition to Cæsar's will might draw after\nit some terrible punishment, and the martyrdom scene of imagination\nbecome a reality, there was added to the beautiful visions and to the\ndelight a kind of curiosity mingled with dread, as to how they would\npunish her, and what kind of torments they would provide. And her soul,\nhalf childish yet, was hesitating on two sides. But Acte, hearing of\nthese hesitations, looked at her with astonishment as if the maiden\nwere talking in a fever. To oppose Cæsar's will, expose oneself from the\nfirst moment to his anger? To act thus one would need to be a child that\nknows not what it says. From Lygia's own words it appears that she is,\nproperly speaking, not really a hostage, but a maiden forgotten by her\nown people. No law of nations protects her; and even if it did, Cæsar\nis powerful enough to trample on it in a moment of anger. It has pleased\nCæsar to take her, and he will dispose of her. Thenceforth she is at his\nwill, above which there is not another on earth.\n\n\"So it is,\" continued Acte. \"I too have read the letters of Paul of\nTarsus, and I know that above the earth is God, and the Son of God, who\nrose from the dead; but on the earth there is only Cæsar. Think of this,\nLygia. I know too that thy doctrine does not permit thee to be what\nI was, and that to you as to the Stoics,--of whom Epictetus has told\nme,--when it comes to a choice between shame and death, it is permitted\nto choose only death. But canst thou say that death awaits thee and not\nshame too? Hast thou heard of the daughter of Sejanus, a young maiden,\nwho at command of Tiberius had to pass through shame before her death,\nso as to respect a law which prohibits the punishment of virgins with\ndeath? Lygia, Lygia, do not irritate Cæsar. If the decisive moment comes\nwhen thou must choose between disgrace and death, thou wilt act as thy\nfaith commands; but seek not destruction thyself, and do not irritate\nfor a trivial cause an earthly and at the same time a cruel divinity.\"\n\nActe spoke with great compassion, and even with enthusiasm; and being\na little short-sighted, she pushed her sweet face up to Lygia's as if\nwishing to see surely the effect of her words.\n\nBut Lygia threw her arms around Acte's neck with childish trustfulness\nand said,--\"Thou art kind, Acte.\"\n\nActe, pleased by the praise and confidence, pressed her to her heart;\nand then disengaging herself from the arms of the maiden, answered,--\"My\nhappiness has passed and my joy is gone, but I am not wicked.\" Then she\nbegan to walk with quick steps through the room and to speak to herself,\nas if in despair.\n\n\"No! And he was not wicked. He thought himself good at that time, and he\nwished to be good. I know that best. All his change came later, when he\nceased to love. Others made him what he is--yes, others--and Poppæa.\"\n\nHere her eyelids filled with tears. Lygia followed her for some time\nwith her blue eyes, and asked at last,--\"Art thou sorry for him, Acte?\"\n\n\"I am sorry for him!\" answered the Grecian, with a low voice. And\nagain she began to walk, her hands clinched as if in pain, and her face\nwithout hope.\n\n\"Dost thou love him yet, Acte?\" asked Lygia, timidly.\n\n\"I love him.\"\n\nAnd after a while she added,--\"No one loves him but me.\"\n\nSilence followed, during which Acte strove to recover her calmness,\ndisturbed by memories; and when at length her face resumed its usual\nlook of calm sorrow, she said,--\n\n\"Let us speak of thee, Lygia. Do not even think of opposing Cæsar; that\nwould be madness. And be calm. I know this house well, and I judge that\non Cæsar's part nothing threatens thee. If Nero had given command\nto take thee away for himself, he would not have brought thee to the\nPalatine. Here Poppæa rules; and Nero, since she bore him a daughter, is\nmore than ever under her influence. No, Nero gave command, it is true,\nthat thou shouldst be at the feast, but he has not seen thee yet; he\nhas not inquired about thee, hence he does not care about thee. Maybe he\ntook thee from Aulus and Pomponia only through anger at them. Petronius\nwrote me to have care of thee; and since Pomponia too wrote, as thou\nknowest, maybe they had an understanding. Maybe he did that at her\nrequest. If this be true, if he at the request of Pomponia will occupy\nhimself with thee, nothing threatens thee; and who knows if Nero may not\nsend thee back to Aulus at his persuasion? I know not whether Nero loves\nhim over much, but I know that rarely has he the courage to be of an\nopinion opposite to his.\"\n\n\"Ah, Acte!\" answered Lygia; \"Petronius was with us before they took\nme, and my mother was convinced that Nero demanded my surrender at his\ninstigation.\"\n\n\"That would be bad,\" said Acte. But she stopped for a while, and then\nsaid,--\"Perhaps Petronius only said, in Nero's presence at some supper,\nthat he saw a hostage of the Lygians at Aulus's, and Nero, who is\njealous of his own power, demanded thee only because hostages belong to\nCæsar. But he does not like Aulus and Pomponia. No! it does not seem to\nme that if Petronius wished to take thee from Aulus he would use such a\nmethod. I do not know whether Petronius is better than others of Cæsar's\ncourt, but he is different. Maybe too thou wilt find some one else who\nwould be willing to intercede for thee. Hast thou not seen at Aulus's\nsome one who is near Cæsar?\"\n\n\"I have seen Vespasian and Titus.\"\n\n\"Cæsar does not like them.\"\n\n\"And Seneca.\"\n\n\"If Seneca advised something, that would be enough to make Nero act\notherwise.\"\n\nThe bright face of Lygia was covered with a blush. \"And Vinicius-\"\n\n\"I do not know him.\"\n\n\"He is a relative of Petronius, and returned not long since from\nArmenia.\"\n\n\"Dost thou think that Nero likes him?\"\n\n\"All like Vinicius.\"\n\n\"And would he intercede for thee?\"\n\n\"He would.\"\n\nActe smiled tenderly, and said, \"Then thou wilt see him surely at the\nfeast. Thou must be there, first, because thou must,--only such a child\nas thou could think otherwise. Second, if thou wish to return to\nthe house of Aulus, thou wilt find means of beseeching Petronius and\nVinicius to gain for thee by their influence the right to return. If\nthey were here, both would tell thee as I do, that it would be madness\nand ruin to try resistance. Cæsar might not notice thy absence, it is\ntrue; but if he noticed it and thought that thou hadst the daring to\noppose his will, here would be no salvation for thee. Go, Lygia! Dost\nthou hear the noise in the palace? The sun is near setting; guests will\nbegin to arrive soon.\"\n\n\"Thou art right,\" answered Lygia, \"and I will follow thy advice.\"\n\nHow much desire to see Vinicius and Petronius there was in this resolve,\nhow much of woman's curiosity there was to see such a feast once in\nlife, and to see at it Cæsar, the court, the renowned Poppæa and other\nbeauties, and all that unheard-of splendor, of which wonders were\nnarrated in Rome, Lygia could not give account to herself of a\ncertainty. But Acte was right, and Lygia felt this distinctly. There was\nneed to go; therefore, when necessity and simple reason supported the\nhidden temptation, she ceased to hesitate.\n\nActe conducted her to her own unctorium to anoint and dress her; and\nthough there was no lack of slave women in Cæsar's house, and Acte had\nenough of them for her personal service, still, through sympathy for the\nmaiden whose beauty and innocence had caught her heart, she resolved to\ndress her herself. It became clear at once that in the young Grecian, in\nspite of her sadness and her perusal of the letters of Paul of Tarsus,\nthere was yet much of the ancient Hellenic spirit, to which physical\nbeauty spoke with more eloquence than aught else on earth. When she\nhad undressed Lygia, she could not restrain an exclamation of wonder at\nsight of her form, at once slender and full, created, as it were, from\npearl and roses; and stepping back a few paces, she looked with delight\non that matchless, spring-like form.\n\n\"Lygia,\" exclaimed she at last, \"thou art a hundred times more beautiful\nthan Poppæa!\"\n\nBut, reared in the strict house of Pomponia, where modesty was observed,\neven when women were by themselves, the maiden, wonderful as a wonderful\ndream, harmonious as a work of Praxiteles or as a song, stood alarmed,\nblushing from modesty, with knees pressed together, with her hands on\nher bosom, and downcast eyes. At last, raising her arms with sudden\nmovement, she removed the pins which held her hair, and in one moment,\nwith one shake of her head, she covered herself with it as with a\nmantle.\n\nActe, approaching her and touching her dark tresses, said,--\n\n\"Oh, what hair thou hast! I will not sprinkle golden powder on it; it\ngleams of itself in one place and another with gold, where it waves.\nI will add, perhaps, barely a sprinkle here and there; but lightly,\nlightly, as if a sun ray had freshened it. Wonderful must thy Lygian\ncountry be where such maidens are born!\n\n\"I do not remember it,\" answered Lygia; \"but Ursus has told me that with\nus it is forests, forests, and forests.\"\n\n\"But flowers bloom in those forests,\" said Acte, dipping her hand in a\nvase filled with verbena, and moistening Lygia's hair with it. When she\nhad finished this work, Acte anointed her body lightly with odoriferous\noils from Arabia, and then dressed her in a soft gold-colored tunic\nwithout sleeves, over which was to be put a snow-white peplus. But since\nshe had to dress Lygia's hair first, she put on her meanwhile a kind of\nroomy dress called synthesis, and, seating her in an armchair, gave her\nfor a time into the hands of slave women, so as to stand at a distance\nherself and follow the hairdressing. Two other slave women put on\nLygia's feet white sandals, embroidered with purple, fastening them to\nher alabaster ankles with golden lacings drawn crosswise. When at\nlast the hair-dressing was finished, they put a peplus on her in very\nbeautiful, light folds; then Acte fastened pearls to her neck, and\ntouching her hair at the folds with gold dust, gave command to the women\nto dress her, following Lygia with delighted eyes meanwhile.\n\nBut she was ready soon; and when the first litters began to appear\nbefore the main gate, both entered the side portico from which were\nvisible the chief entrance, the interior galleries, and the courtyard\nsurrounded by a colonnade of Numidian marble.\n\nGradually people passed in greater and greater numbers under the lofty\narch of the entrance, over which the splendid quadrigæ of Lysias seemed\nto bear Apollo and Diana into space. Lygia's eyes were struck by that\nmagnificence, of which the modest house of Aulus could not have given\nher the slightest idea. It was sunset; the last rays were falling on the\nyellow Numidian marble of the columns, which shone like gold in those\ngleams and changed into rose color also. Among the columns, at the\nside of white statues of the Danaides and others, representing gods or\nheroes, crowds of people flowed past,--men and women; resembling statues\nalso, for they were draped in togas, pepluses, and robes, falling with\ngrace and beauty toward the earth in soft folds, on which the rays of\nthe setting sun were expiring. A gigantic Hercules, with head in the\nlight yet, from the breast down sunk in shadow cast by the columns,\nlooked from above on that throng. Acte showed Lygia senators in\nwide-bordered togas, in colored tunics, in sandals with crescents on\nthem, and knights, and famed artists; she showed her Roman ladies, in\nRoman, in Grecian, in fantastic Oriental costume, with hair dressed in\ntowers or pyramids, or dressed like that of the statues of goddesses,\nlow on the head, and adorned with flowers. Many men and women did Acte\ncall by name, adding to their names histories, brief and sometimes\nterrible, which pierced Lygia with fear, amazement, and wonder. For her\nthis was a strange world, whose beauty intoxicated her eyes, but whose\ncontrasts her girlish understanding could not grasp. In those twilights\nof the sky, in those rows of motionless columns vanishing in the\ndistance, and in those statuesque people, there was a certain lofty\nrepose. It seemed that in the midst of those marbles of simple lines\ndemigods might live free of care, at peace and in happiness. Meanwhile\nthe low voice of Acte disclosed, time after time, a new and dreadful\nsecret of that palace and those people. See, there at a distance is the\ncovered portico on whose columns and floor are still visible red stains\nfrom the blood with which Caligula sprinkled the white marble when he\nfell beneath the knife of Cassius Chærea; there his wife was slain;\nthere his child was dashed against a stone; under that wing is the\ndungeon in which the younger Drusus gnawed his hands from hunger; there\nthe elder Drusus was poisoned; there Gemellus quivered in terror, and\nClaudius in convulsions; there Germanicus suffered,--everywhere those\nwalls had heard the groans and death-rattle of the dying; and those\npeople hurrying now to the feast in togas, in colored tunics, in\nflowers, and in jewels, may be the condemned of to-morrow; on more than\none face, perhaps, a smile conceals terror, alarm, the uncertainty of\nthe next day; perhaps feverishness, greed, envy are gnawing at this\nmoment into the hearts of those crowned demigods, who in appearance\nare free of care. Lygia's frightened thoughts could not keep pace with\nActe's words; and when that wonderful world attracted her eyes with\nincreasing force, her heart contracted within her from fear, and in\nher soul she struggled with an immense, inexpressible yearning for the\nbeloved Pomponia Græcina, and the calm house of Aulus, in which love,\nand not crime, was the ruling power.\n\nMeanwhile new waves of guests were flowing in from the Vicus Apollinis.\nFrom beyond the gates came the uproar and shouts of clients, escorting\ntheir patrons. The courtyard and the colonnades were swarming with the\nmultitude of Cæsar's slaves, of both sexes, small boys, and pretorian\nsoldiers, who kept guard in the palace. Here and there among dark or\nswarthy visages was the black face of a Numidian, in a feathered helmet,\nand with large gold rings in his ears. Some were bearing lutes and\ncitharas, hand lamps of gold, silver, and bronze, and bunches of\nflowers, reared artificially despite the late autumn season. Louder and\nlouder the sound of conversation was mingled with the splashing of the\nfountain, the rosy streams of which fell from above on the marble and\nwere broken, as if in sobs.\n\nActe had stopped her narration; but Lygia gazed at the throng, as if\nsearching for some one. All at once her face was covered with a blush,\nand from among the columns came forth Vinicius with Petronius. They\nwent to the great triclinium, beautiful, calm, like white gods, in their\ntogas. It seemed to Lygia, when she saw those two known and friendly\nfaces among strange people, and especially when she saw Vinicius, that\na great weight had fallen from her heart. She felt less alone. That\nmeasureless yearning for Pomponia and the house of Aulus, which had\nbroken out in her a little while before, ceased at once to be painful.\nThe desire to see Vinicius and to talk with him drowned in her other\nvoices. In vain did she remember all the evil which she had heard of the\nhouse of Cæsar, the words of Acte, the warnings of Pomponia; in spite of\nthose words and warnings, she felt all at once that not only must she be\nat that feast, but that she wished to be there. At the thought that soon\nshe would hear that dear and pleasant voice, which had spoken of love to\nher and of happiness worthy of the gods, and which was sounding like a\nsong in her ears yet, delight seized her straightway.\n\nBut the next moment she feared that delight. It seemed to her that she\nwould be false to the pure teaching in which she had been reared, false\nto Pomponia, and false to herself. It is one thing to go by constraint,\nand another to delight in such a necessity. She felt guilty, unworthy,\nand ruined.\n\nDespair swept her away, and she wanted to weep. Had she been alone, she\nwould have knelt down and beaten her breast, saying, \"Mea culpa! mea\nculpa!\" Acte, taking her hand at that moment, led her through the\ninterior apartments to the grand triclinium, where the feast was to\nbe. Darkness was in her eyes, and a roaring in her ears from internal\nemotion; the beating of her heart stopped her breath. As in a dream, she\nsaw thousands of lamps gleaming on the tables and on the walls; as in\na dream, she heard the shout with which the guests greeted Cæsar; as\nthrough a mist, she saw Cæsar himself. The shout deafened her, the\nglitter dazzled, the odors intoxicated; and, losing the remnant of her\nconsciousness, she was barely able to recognize Acte, who seated her at\nthe table and took a place at her side.\n\nBut after a while a low and known voice was heard at the other side,--\"A\ngreeting, most beautiful of maidens on earth and of stars in heaven. A\ngreeting to thee, divine Callina!\"\n\nLygia, having recovered somewhat, looked up; at her side was Vinicius.\nHe was without a toga, for convenience and custom had enjoined to cast\naside the toga at feasts. His body was covered with only a sleeveless\nscarlet tunic embroidered in silver palms. His bare arms were ornamented\nin Eastern fashion with two broad golden bands fastened above the elbow;\nbelow they were carefully stripped of hair. They were smooth, but too\nmuscular,--real arms of a soldier, they were made for the sword and the\nshield. On his head was a garland of roses. With brows joining above the\nnose, with splendid eyes and a dark complexion, he was the impersonation\nof youth and strength, as it were. To Lygia he seemed so beautiful\nthat though her first amazement had passed, she was barely able to\nanswer,--\"A greeting, Marcus.\"\n\n\"Happy,\" said he, \"are my eyes, which see thee; happy my ears, which\nhear thy voice, dearer to me than the sound of lutes or citharas. Were\nit commanded me to choose who was to rest here by my side at this feast,\nthou, Lygia, or Venus, I would choose thee, divine one!\"\n\nAnd he looked at the maiden as if he wished to sate himself with the\nsight of her, to burn her eyes with his eyes. His glance slipped from\nher face to her neck and bare arms, fondled her shapely outlines,\nadmired her, embraced her, devoured her; but besides desire, there was\ngleaming in him happiness, admiration, and ecstasy beyond limit.\n\n\"I knew that I should see thee in Cæsar's house,\" continued he; \"but\nstill, when I saw thee, such delight shook my whole soul, as if a\nhappiness entirely unexpected had met me.\"\n\nLygia, having recovered herself and feeling that in that throng and in\nthat house he was the only being who was near to her, began to converse\nwith him, and ask about everything which she did not understand and\nwhich filled her with fear. Whence did he know that he would find her in\nCæsar's house? Why is she there? Why did Cæsar take her from Pomponia?\nShe is full of fear where she is, and wishes to return to Pomponia. She\nwould die from alarm and grief were it not for the hope that Petronius\nand he will intercede for her before Cæsar.\n\nVinicius explained that he learned from Aulus himself that she had been\ntaken. Why she is there, he knows not. Cæsar gives account to no one of\nhis orders and commands. But let her not fear. He, Vinicius, is near her\nand will stay near her. He would rather lose his eyes than not see her;\nhe would rather lose his life than desert her. She is his soul, and\nhence he will guard her as his soul. In his house he will build to her,\nas to a divinity, an altar on which he will offer myrrh and aloes,\nand in spring saffron and apple-blossoms; and since she has a dread of\nCæsar's house, he promises that she shall not stay in it.\n\nAnd though he spoke evasively and at times invented, truth was to\nbe felt in his voice, because his feelings were real. Genuine pity\npossessed him, too, and her words went to his soul so thoroughly that\nwhen she began to thank him and assure him that Pomponia would love him\nfor his goodness, and that she herself would be grateful to him all\nher life, he could not master his emotion, and it seemed to him that\nhe would never be able in life to resist her prayer. The heart began to\nmelt in him. Her beauty intoxicated his senses, and he desired her;\nbut at the same time he felt that she was very dear to him, and that\nin truth he might do homage to her, as to a divinity; he felt also\nirresistible need of speaking of her beauty and of his own homage. As\nthe noise at the feast increased, he drew nearer to her, whispered kind,\nsweet words flowing from the depth of his soul, words as resonant as\nmusic and intoxicating as wine.\n\nAnd he intoxicated her. Amid those strange people he seemed to her ever\nnearer, ever dearer, altogether true, and devoted with his whole soul.\nHe pacified her; he promised to rescue her from the house of Cæsar; he\npromised not to desert her, and said that he would serve her. Besides,\nhe had spoken before at Aulus's only in general about love and the\nhappiness which it can give; but now he said directly that he loved her,\nand that she was dear and most precious to him. Lygia heard such words\nfrom a man's lips for the first time; and as she heard them it seemed\nto her that something was wakening in her as from a sleep, that some\nspecies of happiness was embracing her in which immense delight was\nmingled with immense alarm. Her cheeks began to burn, her heart to beat,\nher mouth opened as in wonder. She was seized with fear because she was\nlistening to such things, still she did not wish for any cause on earth\nto lose one word. At moments she dropped her eyes; then again she raised\nher clear glance to Vinicius, timid and also inquiring, as if she wished\nto say to him, \"Speak on!\" The sound of the music, the odor of flowers\nand of Arabian perfumes, began to daze her. In Rome it was the custom to\nrecline at banquets, but at home Lygia occupied a place between Pomponia\nand little Aulus. Now Vinicius was reclining near her, youthful,\nimmense, in love, burning; and she, feeling the heat that issued from\nhim, felt both delight and shame. A kind of sweet weakness, a kind of\nfaintness and forgetfulness seized her; it was as if drowsiness tortured\nher.\n\nBut her nearness to him began to act on Vinicius also. His nostrils\ndilated, like those of an Eastern steed. The beating of his heart with\nunusual throb was evident under his scarlet tunic; his breathing grew\nshort, and the expressions that fell from his lips were broken. For the\nfirst time, too, he was so near her. His thoughts grew disturbed; he\nfelt a flame in his veins which he tried in vain to quench with wine.\nNot wine, but her marvellous face, her bare arms, her maiden breast\nheaving under the golden tunic, and her form hidden in the white folds\nof the peplus, intoxicated him more and more. Finally, he seized her arm\nabove the wrist, as he had done once at Aulus's, and drawing her toward\nhim whispered, with trembling lips,--\"I love thee, Callina,--divine\none.\"\n\n\"Let me go, Marcus,\" said Lygia.\n\nBut he continued, his eyes mist-covered, \"Love me, my goddess!\"\n\nBut at that moment was heard the voice of Acte, who was reclining on the\nother side of Lygia.\n\n\"Cæsar is looking at you both.\"\n\nVinicius was carried away by sudden anger at Cæsar and at Acte. Her\nwords had broken the charm of his intoxication. To the young man even\na friendly voice would have seemed repulsive at such a moment, but he\njudged that Acte wished purposely to interrupt his conversation with\nLygia. So, raising his head and looking over the shoulder of Lygia at\nthe young freedwoman, he said with malice:\n\n\"The hour has passed, Acte, when thou didst recline near Cæsar's side\nat banquets, and they say that blindness is threatening thee; how then\ncanst thou see him?\"\n\nBut she answered as if in sadness: \"Still I see him. He, too, has short\nsight, and is looking at thee through an emerald.\"\n\nEverything that Nero did roused attention, even in those nearest\nhim; hence Vinicius was alarmed. He regained self-control, and began\nimperceptibly to look toward Cæsar. Lygia, who, embarrassed at the\nbeginning of the banquet, had seen Nero as in a mist, and afterward,\noccupied by the presence and conversation of Vinicius, had not looked at\nhim at all, turned to him eyes at once curious and terrified.\n\nActe spoke truly. Cæsar had bent over the table, half-closed one eye,\nand holding before the other a round polished emerald, which he used,\nwas looking at them. For a moment his glance met Lygia's eyes, and the\nheart of the maiden was straitened with terror. When still a child on\nAulus's Sicilian estate, an old Egyptian slave had told her of dragons\nwhich occupied dens in the mountains, and it seemed to her now that all\nat once the greenish eye of such a monster was gazing at her. She caught\nat Vinicius's hand as a frightened child would, and disconnected, quick\nimpressions pressed into her head: Was not that he, the terrible, the\nall-powerful? She had not seen him hitherto, and she thought that he\nlooked differently. She had imagined some kind of ghastly face, with\nmalignity petrified in its features; now she saw a great head, fixed on\na thick neck, terrible, it is true, but almost ridiculous, for from a\ndistance it resembled the head of a child. A tunic of amethyst color,\nforbidden to ordinary mortals, cast a bluish tinge on his broad and\nshort face. He had dark hair, dressed, in the fashion introduced by\nOtho, in four curls.\n\nHe had no beard, because he had sacrificed it recently to Jove,--for\nwhich all Rome gave him thanks, though people whispered to each other\nthat he had sacrificed it because his beard, like that of his whole\nfamily, was red. In his forehead, projecting strongly above his\nbrows, there remained something Olympian. In his contracted brows the\nconsciousness of supreme power was evident; but under that forehead of\na demigod was the face of a monkey, a drunkard, and a comedian,--vain,\nfull of changing desires, swollen with fat, notwithstanding his youth;\nbesides, it was sickly and foul. To Lygia he seemed ominous, but above\nall repulsive.\n\nAfter a while he laid down the emerald and ceased to look at her. Then\nshe saw his prominent blue eyes, blinking before the excess of light,\nglassy, without thought, resembling the eyes of the dead.\n\n\"Is that the hostage with whom Vinicius is in love?\" asked he, turning\nto Petronius.\n\n\"That is she,\" answered Petronius.\n\n\"What are her people called?\"\n\n\"The Lygians.\"\n\n\"Does Vinicius think her beautiful?\"\n\n\"Array a rotten olive trunk in the peplus of a woman, and Vinicius will\ndeclare it beautiful. But on thy countenance, incomparable judge, I read\nher sentence already. Thou hast no need to pronounce it! The sentence is\ntrue: she is too dry, thin, a mere blossom on a slender stalk; and thou,\nO divine æsthete, esteemest the stalk in a woman. Thrice and four times\nart thou right! The face alone does not signify. I have learned much in\nthy company, but even now I have not a perfect cast of the eye. But I am\nready to lay a wager with Tullius Senecio concerning his mistress, that,\nalthough at a feast, when all are reclining, it is difficult to judge\nthe whole form, thou hast said in thy mind already, 'Too narrow in the\nhips.'\"\n\n\"Too narrow in the hips,\" answered Nero, blinking.\n\nOn Petronius's lips appeared a scarcely perceptible smile; but Tullius\nSenecio, who till that moment was occupied in conversing with Vestinius,\nor rather in reviling dreams, while Vestinius believed in them, turned\nto Petronius, and though he had not the least idea touching that of\nwhich they were talking, he said,--\"Thou art mistaken! I hold with\nCæsar.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered Petronius. \"I have just maintained that thou hast\na glimmer of understanding, but Cæsar insists that thou art an ass pure\nand simple.\"\n\n\"Habet!\" said Cæsar, laughing, and turning down the thumb, as was done\nin the Circus, in sign that the gladiator had received a blow and was to\nbe finished.\n\nBut Vestinius, thinking that the question was of dreams,\nexclaimed,--\"But I believe in dreams, and Seneca told me on a time that\nhe believes too.\"\n\n\"Last night I dreamt that I had become a vestal virgin,\" said Calvia\nCrispinilla, bending over the table.\n\nAt this Nero clapped his hands, other followed, and in a moment clapping\nof hands was heard all around,--for Crispinilla had been divorced\na number of times, and was known throughout Rome for her fabulous\ndebauchery.\n\nBut she, not disconcerted in the least, said,--\"Well! They are all old\nand ugly. Rubria alone has a human semblance, and so there would be two\nof us, though Rubria gets freckles in summer.\"\n\n\"But admit, purest Calvia,\" said Petronius, \"that thou couldst become a\nvestal only in dreams.\"\n\n\"But if Cæsar commanded?\"\n\n\"I should believe that even the most impossible dreams might come true.\"\n\n\"But they do come true,\" said Vestinius. \"I understand those who do not\nbelieve in the gods, but how is it possible not to believe in dreams?\"\n\n\"But predictions?\" inquired Nero. \"It was predicted once to me, that\nRome would cease to exist, and that I should rule the whole Orient.\"\n\n\"Predictions and dreams are connected,\" said Vestinius. \"Once a certain\nproconsul, a great disbeliever, sent a slave to the temple of Mopsus\nwith a sealed letter which he would not let any one open; he did this\nto try if the god could answer the question contained in the letter. The\nslave slept a night in the temple to have a prophetic dream; he returned\nthen and said: 'I saw a youth in my dreams; he was as bright as the sun,\nand spoke only one word, \"Black.\"' The proconsul, when he heard this,\ngrew pale, and turning to his guests, disbelievers like himself, said:\n'Do ye know what was in the letter?'\" Here Vestinius stopped, and,\nraising his goblet with wine, began to drink.\n\n\"What was in the letter?\" asked Senecio.\n\n\"In the letter was the question: 'What is the color of the bull which I\nam to sacrifice: white or black?'\"\n\nBut the interest roused by the narrative was interrupted by Vitelius,\nwho, drunk when he came to the feast, burst forth on a sudden and\nwithout cause in senseless laughter.\n\n\"What is that keg of tallow laughing at?\" asked Nero.\n\n\"Laughter distinguishes men from animals,\" said Petronius, \"and he has\nno other proof that he is not a wild boar.\"\n\nVitelius stopped half-way in his laughter, and smacking his lips,\nshining from fat and sauces, looked at those present with as much\nastonishment as if he had never seen them before; then he raised his two\nhands, which were like cushions, and said in a hoarse voice,--\"The ring\nof a knight has fallen from my finger, and it was inherited from my\nfather.\"\n\n\"Who was a tailor,\" added Nero.\n\nBut Vitelius burst forth again in unexpected laughter, and began to\nsearch for his ring in the peplus of Calvia Crispinilla.\n\nHereupon Vestinius fell to imitating the cries of a frightened woman.\nNigidia, a friend of Calvia,--a young widow with the face of a child\nand the eyes of a wanton,--said aloud,--\"He is seeking what he has not\nlost.\"\n\n\"And which will be useless to him if he finds it,\" finished the poet\nLucan.\n\nThe feast grew more animated. Crowds of slaves bore around successive\ncourses; from great vases filled with snow and garlanded with\nivy, smaller vessels with various kinds of wine were brought forth\nunceasingly. All drank freely. On the guests, roses fell from the\nceiling at intervals.\n\nPetronius entreated Nero to dignify the feast with his song before the\nguests drank too deeply. A chorus of voices supported his words, but\nNero refused at first. It was not a question of courage alone, he said,\nthough that failed him always. The gods knew what efforts every success\ncost him. He did not avoid them, however, for it was needful to do\nsomething for art; and besides, if Apollo had gifted him with a certain\nvoice, it was not proper to let divine gifts be wasted. He understood,\neven, that it was his duty to the State not to let them be wasted. But\nthat day he was really hoarse. In the night he had placed leaden weights\non his chest, but that had not helped in any way. He was thinking even\nto go to Antium, to breathe the sea air.\n\nLucan implored him in the name of art and humanity. All knew that the\ndivine poet and singer had composed a new hymn to Venus, compared with\nwhich Lucretius's hymn was as the howl of a yearling wolf. Let that\nfeast be a genuine feast. So kind a ruler should not cause such tortures\nto his subjects. \"Be not cruel, O Cæsar!\"\n\n\"Be not cruel!\" repeated all who were sitting near.\n\nNero spread his hands in sign that he had to yield. All faces assumed\nthen an expression of gratitude, and all eyes were turned to him; but he\ngave command first to announce to Poppæa that he would sing; he informed\nthose present that she had not come to the feast, because she did not\nfeel in good health; but since no medicine gave her such relief as his\nsinging, he would be sorry to deprive her of this opportunity.\n\nIn fact, Poppæa came soon. Hitherto she had ruled Nero as if he had\nbeen her subject, but she knew that when his vanity as a singer, a\ncharioteer, or a poet was involved, there was danger in provoking it.\nShe came in therefore, beautiful as a divinity, arrayed, like Nero,\nin robes of amethyst color, and wearing a necklace of immense pearls,\nstolen on a time from Massinissa; she was golden-haired, sweet, and\nthough divorced from two husbands she had the face and the look of a\nvirgin.\n\nShe was greeted with shouts, and the appellation \"Divine Augusta.\" Lygia\nhad never seen any one so beautiful, and she could not believe her own\neyes, for she knew that Poppæa Sabina was one of the vilest women on\nearth. She knew from Pomponia that she had brought Cæsar to murder his\nmother and his wife; she knew her from accounts given by Aulus's guests\nand the servants; she had heard that statues to her had been thrown\ndown at night in the city; she had heard of inscriptions, the writers\nof which had been condemned to severest punishment, but which still\nappeared on the city walls every morning. Yet at sight of the notorious\nPoppæa, considered by the confessors of Christ as crime and evil\nincarnate, it seemed to her that angels or spirits of heaven might look\nlike her. She was unable simply to take her eyes from Poppæa; and from\nher lips was wrested involuntarily the question,--\"Ah, Marcus, can it be\npossible?\"\n\nBut he, roused by wine, and as it were impatient that so many things\nhad scattered her attention, and taken her from him and his words,\nsaid,--\"Yes, she is beautiful, but thou art a hundred times more\nbeautiful. Thou dost not know thyself, or thou wouldst be in love with\nthyself, as Narcissus was; she bathes in asses' milk, but Venus bathed\nthee in her own milk. Thou dost not know thyself, Ocelle mi! Look not at\nher. Turn thy eyes to me, Ocelle mi! Touch this goblet of wine with thy\nlips, and I will put mine on the same place.\"\n\nAnd he pushed up nearer and nearer, and she began to withdraw toward\nActe. But at that moment silence was enjoined because Cæsar had risen.\nThe singer Diodorus had given him a lute of the kind called delta;\nanother singer named Terpnos, who had to accompany him in playing,\napproached with an instrument called the nablium. Nero, resting the\ndelta on the table, raised his eyes; and for a moment silence reigned in\nthe triclinium, broken only by a rustle, as roses fell from the ceiling.\n\nThen he began to chant, or rather to declaim, singingly and\nrhythmically, to the accompaniment of the two lutes, his own hymn to\nVenus. Neither the voice, though somewhat injured, nor the verses were\nbad, so that reproaches of conscience took possession of Lygia again;\nfor the hymn, though glorifying the impure pagan Venus, seemed to her\nmore than beautiful, and Cæsar himself, with a laurel crown on his head\nand uplifted eyes, nobler, much less terrible, and less repulsive than\nat the beginning of the feast.\n\nThe guests answered with a thunder of applause. Cries of, \"Oh, heavenly\nvoice!\" were heard round about; some of the women raised their hands,\nand held them thus, as a sign of delight, even after the end of the\nhymn; others wiped their tearful eyes; the whole hall was seething as in\na beehive. Poppæa, bending her golden-haired head, raised Nero's hand\nto her lips, and held it long in silence. Pythagoras, a young Greek\nof marvellous beauty,--the same to whom later the half-insane Nero\ncommanded the flamens to marry him, with the observance of all\nrites,--knelt now at his feet.\n\nBut Nero looked carefully at Petronius, whose praises were desired by\nhim always before every other, and who said,--\"If it is a question of\nmusic, Orpheus must at this moment be as yellow from envy as Lucan,\nwho is here present; and as to the verses, I am sorry that they are not\nworse; if they were I might find proper words to praise them.\"\n\nLucan did not take the mention of envy evil of him; on the contrary, he\nlooked at Petronius with gratitude, and, affecting ill-humor, began to\nmurmur,--\"Cursed fate, which commanded me to live contemporary with such\na poet. One might have a place in the memory of man, and on Parnassus;\nbut now one will quench, as a candle in sunlight.\"\n\nPetronius, who had an amazing memory, began to repeat extracts from\nthe hymn and cite single verses, exalt, and analyze the more beautiful\nexpressions. Lucan, forgetting as it were his envy before the charm of\nthe poetry, joined his ecstasy to Petronius's words. On Nero's face were\nreflected delight and fathomless vanity, not only nearing stupidity, but\nreaching it perfectly. He indicated to them verses which he considered\nthe most beautiful; and finally he began to comfort Lucan, and tell him\nnot to lose heart, for though whatever a man is born that he is,\nthe honor which people give Jove does not exclude respect for other\ndivinities.\n\nThen he rose to conduct Poppæa, who, being really in ill health, wished\nto withdraw. But he commanded the guests who remained to occupy their\nplaces anew, and promised to return, In fact, he returned a little\nlater, to stupefy himself with the smoke of incense, and gaze at further\nspectacles which he himself, Petronius, or Tigellinus had prepared for\nthe feast.\n\nAgain verses were read or dialogues listened to in which extravagance\ntook the place of wit. After that Paris, the celebrated mime,\nrepresented the adventures of Io, the daughter of Inachus. To the\nguests, and especially to Lygia, unaccustomed to such scenes, it seemed\nthat they were gazing at miracles and enchantment. Paris, with motions\nof his hands and body, was able to express things apparently impossible\nin a dance. His hands dimmed the air, creating a cloud, bright, living,\nquivering, voluptuous, surrounding the half-fainting form of a maiden\nshaken by a spasm of delight. That was a picture, not a dance; an\nexpressive picture, disclosing the secrets of love, bewitching and\nshameless; and when at the end of it Corybantes rushed in and began\na bacchic dance with girls of Syria to the sounds of cithara, lutes,\ndrums, and cymbals,--a dance filled with wild shouts and still wilder\nlicense,--it seemed to Lygia that living fire was burning her, and that\na thunderbolt ought to strike that house, or the ceiling fall on the\nheads of those feasting there.\n\nBut from the golden net fastened to the ceiling only roses fell, and\nthe now half-drunken Vinicius said to her,--\"I saw thee in the house of\nAulus, at the fountain. It was daylight, and thou didst think that\nno one saw thee; but I saw thee. And I see thee thus yet, though that\npeplus hides thee. Cast aside the peplus, like Crispinilla. See, gods\nand men seek love. There is nothing in the world but love. Lay thy head\non my breast and close thy eyes.\"\n\nThe pulse beat oppressively in Lygia's hands and temples. A feeling\nseized her that she was flying into some abyss, and that Vinicius, who\nbefore had seemed so near and so trustworthy, instead of saving was\ndrawing her toward it. And she felt sorry for him. She began again to\ndread the feast and him and herself. Some voice, like that of Pomponia,\nwas calling yet in her soul, \"O Lygia, save thyself!\" But something\ntold her also that it was too late; that the one whom such a flame had\nembraced as that which had embraced her, the one who had seen what was\ndone at that feast and whose heart had beaten as hers had on hearing the\nwords of Vinicius, the one through whom such a shiver had passed as had\npassed through her when he approached, was lost beyond recovery. She\ngrew weak. It seemed at moments to her that she would faint, and then\nsomething terrible would happen. She knew that, under penalty of Cæsar's\nanger, it was not permitted any one to rise till Cæsar rose; but even\nwere that not the case, she had not strength now to rise.\n\nMeanwhile it was far to the end of the feast yet. Slaves brought new\ncourses, and filled the goblets unceasingly with wine; before the table,\non a platform open at one side, appeared two athletes to give the guests\na spectacle of wrestling.\n\nThey began the struggle at once, and the powerful bodies, shining from\nolive oil, formed one mass; bones cracked in their iron arms, and from\ntheir set jaws came an ominous gritting of teeth. At moments was heard\nthe quick, dull thump of their feet on the platform strewn with saffron;\nagain they were motionless, silent, and it seemed to the spectators that\nthey had before them a group chiselled out of stone. Roman eyes followed\nwith delight the movement of tremendously exerted backs, thighs, and\narms. But the struggle was not too prolonged; for Croton, a master,\nand the founder of a school of gladiators, did not pass in vain for the\nstrongest man in the empire. His opponent began to breathe more and more\nquickly: next a rattle was heard in his throat; then his face grew blue;\nfinally he threw blood from his mouth and fell.\n\nA thunder of applause greeted the end of the struggle, and Croton,\nresting his foot on the breast of his opponent, crossed his gigantic\narms on his breast, and cast the eyes of a victor around the hall.\n\nNext appeared men who mimicked beasts and their voices, ball-players\nand buffoons. Only a few persons looked at them, however, since wine had\ndarkened the eyes of the audience. The feast passed by degrees into a\ndrunken revel and a dissolute orgy. The Syrian damsels, who appeared\nat first in the bacchic dance, mingled now with the guests. The music\nchanged into a disordered and wild outburst of citharas, lutes, Armenian\ncymbals, Egyptian sistra, trumpets, and horns. As some of the guests\nwished to talk, they shouted at the musicians to disappear. The air,\nfilled with the odor of flowers and the perfume of oils with which\nbeautiful boys had sprinkled the feet of the guests during the feast,\npermeated with saffron and the exhalations of people, became stifling;\nlamps burned with a dim flame; the wreaths dropped sidewise on the heads\nof guests; faces grew pale and were covered with sweat. Vitelius rolled\nunder the table. Nigidia, stripping herself to the waist, dropped\nher drunken childlike head on the breast of Lucan, who, drunk in like\ndegree, fell to blowing the golden powder from her hair, and raising\nhis eyes with immense delight. Vestinius, with the stubbornness of\nintoxication, repeated for the tenth time the answer of Mopsus to the\nsealed letter of the proconsul. Tullius, who reviled the gods,\nsaid, with a drawling voice broken by hiccoughs,--\"If the spheros of\nXenophanes is round, then consider, such a god might be pushed along\nbefore one with the foot, like a barrel.\"\n\nBut Domitius Afer, a hardened criminal and informer, was indignant at\nthe discourse, and through indignation spilled Falernian over his whole\ntunic. He had always believed in the gods. People say that Rome will\nperish, and there are some even who contend that it is perishing\nalready. And surely! But if that should come, it is because the youth\nare without faith, and without faith there can be no virtue. People have\nabandoned also the strict habits of former days, and it never occurs\nto them that Epicureans will not stand against barbarians. As for him,\nhe--As for him, he was sorry that he had lived to such times, and that\nhe must seek in pleasures a refuge against griefs which, if not met,\nwould soon kill him.\n\nWhen he had said this, he drew toward him a Syrian dancer, and kissed\nher neck and shoulders with his toothless mouth. Seeing this, the consul\nMemmius Regulus laughed, and, raising his bald head with wreath awry,\nexclaimed,--\"Who says that Rome is perishing? What folly! I, a consul,\nknow better. Videant consules! Thirty legions are guarding our pax\nromana!\"\n\nHere he put his fists to his temples and shouted, in a voice heard\nthroughout the triclinium,--\"Thirty legions! thirty legions! from\nBritain to the Parthian boundaries!\" But he stopped on a sudden, and,\nputting a finger to his forehead, said,--\"As I live, I think there are\nthirty-two.\" He rolled under the table, and began soon to send forth\nflamingo tongues, roast and chilled mushrooms, locusts in honey, fish,\nmeat, and everything which he had eaten or drunk.\n\nBut the number of the legions guarding Roman peace did not pacify\nDomitius.\n\nNo, no! Rome must perish; for faith in the gods was lost, and so were\nstrict habits! Rome must perish; and it was a pity, for still life was\npleasant there. Cæsar was gracious, wine was good! Oh, what a pity!\n\nAnd hiding his head on the arm of a Syrian bacchanal, he burst into\ntears. \"What is a future life! Achilles was right,--better be a slave\nin the world beneath the sun than a king in Cimmerian regions. And\nstill the question whether there are any gods--since it is unbelief--is\ndestroying the youth.\"\n\nLucan meanwhile had blown all the gold powder from Nigidia's hair, and\nshe being drunk had fallen asleep. Next he took wreaths of ivy from\nthe vase before him, put them on the sleeping woman, and when he had\nfinished looked at those present with a delighted and inquiring glance.\nHe arrayed himself in ivy too, repeating, in a voice of deep conviction,\n\"I am not a man at all, but a faun.\"\n\nPetronius was not drunk; but Nero, who drank little at first, out of\nregard for his \"heavenly\" voice, emptied goblet after goblet toward the\nend, and was drunk. He wanted even to sing more of his verses,--this\ntime in Greek,--but he had forgotten them, and by mistake sang an ode of\nAnacreon. Pythagoras, Diodorus, and Terpnos accompanied him; but failing\nto keep time, they stopped. Nero as a judge and an æsthete was enchanted\nwith the beauty of Pythagoras, and fell to kissing his hands in ecstasy.\n\"Such beautiful hands I have seen only once, and whose were they?\" Then\nplacing his palm on his moist forehead, he tried to remember. After a\nwhile terror was reflected on his face.\n\nAh! His mother's--Agrippina's!\n\nAnd a gloomy vision seized him forthwith.\n\n\"They say,\" said he, \"that she wanders by moonlight on the sea around\nBaiæ and Bauli. She merely walks,--walks as if seeking for something.\nWhen she comes near a boat, she looks at it and goes away; but the\nfisherman on whom she has fixed her eye dies.\"\n\n\"Not a bad theme,\" said Petronius.\n\nBut Vestinius, stretching his neck like a stork, whispered\nmysteriously,--\"I do not believe in the gods; but I believe in\nspirits--Oi!\"\n\nNero paid no attention to their words, and continued,--\"I celebrated the\nLemuria, and have no wish to see her. This is the fifth year--I had\nto condemn her, for she sent assassins against me; and, had I not been\nquicker than she, ye would not be listening to-night to my song.\"\n\n\"Thanks be to Cæsar, in the name of the city and the world!\" cried\nDomitius Afer.\n\n\"Wine! and let them strike the tympans!\"\n\nThe uproar began anew. Lucan, all in ivy, wishing to outshout him, rose\nand cried,--\"I am not a man, but a faun; and I dwell in the forest.\nEho-o-o-oo!\" Cæsar drank himself drunk at last; men were drunk, and\nwomen were drunk. Vinicius was not less drunk than others; and in\naddition there was roused in him, besides desire, a wish to quarrel,\nwhich happened always when he passed the measure. His dark face became\npaler, and his tongue stuttered when he spoke, in a voice now loud and\ncommanding,--\"Give me thy lips! To-day, to-morrow, it is all one! Enough\nof this!\n\n\"Cæsar took thee from Aulus to give thee to me, dost understand?\nTo-morrow, about dusk, I will send for thee, dost understand? Cæsar\npromised thee to me before he took thee. Thou must be mine! Give me thy\nlips! I will not wait for to-morrow,--give thy lips quickly.\"\n\nAnd he moved to embrace her; but Acte began to defend her, and she\ndefended herself with the remnant of her strength, for she felt that she\nwas perishing. But in vain did she struggle with both hands to remove\nhis hairless arm; in vain, with a voice in which terror and grief were\nquivering, did she implore him not to be what he was, and to have pity\non her. Sated with wine, his breath blew around her nearer and nearer,\nand his face was there near her face. He was no longer the former kind\nVinicius, almost dear to her soul; he was a drunken, wicked satyr, who\nfilled her with repulsion and terror. But her strength deserted her\nmore and more. In vain did she bend and turn away her face to escape his\nkisses. He rose to his feet, caught her in both arms, and drawing her\nhead to his breast, began, panting, to press her pale lips with his.\n\nBut at this instant a tremendous power removed his arms from her neck\nwith as much ease as if they had been the arms of a child, and pushed\nhim aside, like a dried limb or a withered leaf. What had happened?\nVinicius rubbed his astonished eyes, and saw before him the gigantic\nfigure of the Lygian, called Ursus, whom he had seen at the house of\nAulus.\n\nUrsus stood calmly, but looked at Vinicius so strangely with his blue\neyes that the blood stiffened in the veins of the young man; then the\ngiant took his queen on his arm, and walked out of the triclinium with\nan even, quiet step.\n\nActe in that moment went after him.\n\nVinicius sat for the twinkle of an eye as if petrified; then he sprang\nup and ran toward the entrance crying,--\"Lygia! Lygia!\"\n\nBut desire, astonishment, rage, and wine cut the legs from under him.\nHe staggered once and a second time, seized the naked arm of one of the\nbacchanals, and began to inquire, with blinking eyes, what had happened.\nShe, taking a goblet of wine, gave it to him with a smile in her\nmist-covered eyes.\n\n\"Drink!\" said she.\n\nVinicius drank, and fell to the floor.\n\nThe greater number of the guests were lying under the table; others were\nwalking with tottering tread through the triclinium, while others were\nsleeping on couches at the table, snoring, or giving forth the excess\nof wine. Meanwhile, from the golden network, roses were dropping\nand dropping on those drunken consuls and senators, on those drunken\nknights, philosophers, and poets, on those drunken dancing damsels and\npatrician ladies, on that society all dominant as yet but with the soul\ngone from it, on that society garlanded and ungirdled but perishing.\n\nDawn had begun out of doors.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VIII\n\n\nNo one stopped Ursus, no one inquired even what he was doing. Those\nguests who were not under the table had not kept their own places; hence\nthe servants, seeing a giant carrying a guest on his arm, thought him\nsome slave bearing out his intoxicated mistress. Moreover, Acte was with\nthem, and her presence removed all suspicion.\n\nIn this way they went from the triclinium to the adjoining chamber, and\nthence to the gallery leading to Acte's apartments. To such a degree\nhad her strength deserted Lygia, that she hung as if dead on the arm of\nUrsus. But when the cool, pure breeze of morning beat around her, she\nopened her eyes. It was growing clearer and clearer in the open air.\nAfter they had passed along the colonnade awhile, they turned to a side\nportico, coming out, not in the courtyard, but the palace gardens, where\nthe tops of the pines and cypresses were growing ruddy from the light\nof morning. That part of the building was empty, so that echoes of music\nand sounds of the feast came with decreasing distinctness. It seemed to\nLygia that she had been rescued from hell, and borne into God's bright\nworld outside. There was something, then, besides that disgusting\ntriclinium. There was the sky, the dawn, light, and peace. Sudden\nweeping seized the maiden, and, taking shelter on the arm of the giant,\nshe repeated, with sobbing,--\"Let us go home, Ursus! home, to the house\nof Aulus.\"\n\n\"Let us go!\" answered Ursus.\n\nThey found themselves now in the small atrium of Acte's apartments.\nUrsus placed Lygia on a marble bench at a distance from the fountain.\nActe strove to pacify her; she urged her to sleep, and declared that\nfor the moment there was no danger,--after the feast the drunken guests\nwould sleep till evening. For a long time Lygia could not calm\nherself, and, pressing her temples with both hands, she repeated like a\nchild,--\"Let us go home, to the house of Aulus!\"\n\nUrsus was ready. At the gates stood pretorians, it is true, but he\nwould pass them. The soldiers would not stop out-going people. The space\nbefore the arch was crowded with litters. Guests were beginning to go\nforth in throngs. No one would detain them. They would pass with the\ncrowd and go home directly. For that matter, what does he care? As the\nqueen commands, so must it be. He is there to carry out her orders.\n\n\"Yes, Ursus,\" said Lygia, \"let us go.\"\n\nActe was forced to find reason for both. They would pass out, true; no\none would stop them. But it is not permitted to flee from the house of\nCæsar; whoso does that offends Cæsar's majesty. They may go; but in the\nevening a centurion at the head of soldiers will take a death sentence\nto Aulus and Pomponia Græcina; they will bring Lygia to the palace\nagain, and then there will be no rescue for her. Should Aulus and his\nwife receive her under their roof, death awaits them to a certainty.\n\nLygia's arms dropped. There was no other outcome. She must choose her\nown ruin or that of Plautius. In going to the feast, she had hoped\nthat Vinicius and Petronius would win her from Cæsar, and return her to\nPomponia; now she knew that it was they who had brought Cæsar to remove\nher from the house of Aulus. There was no help. Only a miracle could\nsave her from the abyss,--a miracle and the might of God.\n\n\"Acte,\" said she, in despair, \"didst thou hear Vinicius say that Cæsar\nhad given me to him, and that he will send slaves here this evening to\ntake me to his house?\"\n\n\"I did,\" answered Acte; and, raising her arms from her side, she was\nsilent. The despair with which Lygia spoke found in her no echo. She\nherself had been Nero's favorite. Her heart, though good, could not feel\nclearly the shame of such a relation. A former slave, she had grown too\nmuch inured to the law of slavery; and, besides, she loved Nero yet. If\nhe returned to her, she would stretch her arms to him, as to happiness.\nComprehending clearly that Lygia must become the mistress of the\nyouthful and stately Vinicius, or expose Aulus and Pomponia to ruin, she\nfailed to understand how the girl could hesitate.\n\n\"In Cæsar's house,\" said she, after a while, \"it would not be safer for\nthee than in that of Vinicius.\"\n\nAnd it did not occur to her that, though she told the truth, her words\nmeant, \"Be resigned to fate and become the concubine of Vinicius.\"\n\nAs to Lygia, who felt on her lips yet his kisses, burning as coals and\nfull of beastly desire, the blood rushed to her face with shame at the\nmere thought of them.\n\n\"Never,\" cried she, with an outburst, \"will I remain here, or at the\nhouse of Vinicius,--never!\"\n\n\"But,\" inquired Acte, \"is Vinicius hateful to thee?\"\n\nLygia was unable to answer, for weeping seized her anew. Acte gathered\nthe maiden to her bosom, and strove to calm her excitement. Ursus\nbreathed heavily, and balled his giant fists; for, loving his queen with\nthe devotion of a dog, he could not bear the sight of her tears. In his\nhalf-wild Lygian heart was the wish to return to the triclinium, choke\nVinicius, and, should the need come, Cæsar himself; but he feared to\nsacrifice thereby his mistress, and was not certain that such an\nact, which to him seemed very simple, would befit a confessor of the\nCrucified Lamb.\n\nBut Acte, while caressing Lygia, asked again, \"Is he so hateful to\nthee?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Lygia; \"it is not permitted me to hate, for I am a\nChristian.\"\n\n\"I know, Lygia. I know also from the letters of Paul of Tarsus, that it\nis not permitted to defile one's self, nor to fear death more than sin;\nbut tell me if thy teaching permits one person to cause the death of\nothers?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then how canst thou bring Cæsar's vengeance on the house of Aulus?\"\nA moment of silence followed. A bottomless abyss yawned before Lygia\nagain.\n\n\"I ask,\" continued the young freedwoman, \"for I have compassion on\nthee--and I have compassion on the good Pomponia and Aulus, and on their\nchild. It is long since I began to live in this house, and I know what\nCæsar's anger is. No! thou art not at liberty to flee from here. One way\nremains to thee: implore Vinicius to return thee to Pomponia.\"\n\nBut Lygia dropped on her knees to implore some one else. Ursus knelt\ndown after a while, too, and both began to pray in Cæsar's house at the\nmorning dawn.\n\nActe witnessed such a prayer for the first time, and could not take her\neyes from Lygia, who, seen by her in profile, with raised hands, and\nface turned heavenward, seemed to implore rescue. The dawn, casting\nlight on her dark hair and white peplus, was reflected in her eyes.\nEntirely in the light, she seemed herself like light. In that pale\nface, in those parted lips, in those raised hands and eyes, a kind of\nsuperhuman exaltation was evident. Acte understood then why Lygia could\nnot become the concubine of any man. Before the face of Nero's former\nfavorite was drawn aside, as it were, a corner of that veil which hides\na world altogether different from that to which she was accustomed. She\nwas astonished by prayer in that abode of crime and infamy. A moment\nearlier it had seemed to her that there was no rescue for Lygia; now she\nbegan to think that something uncommon would happen, that some aid would\ncome,--aid so mighty that Cæsar himself would be powerless to resist it;\nthat some winged army would descend from the sky to help that maiden, or\nthat the sun would spread its rays beneath her feet and draw her up to\nitself. She had heard of many miracles among Christians, and she thought\nnow that everything said of them was true, since Lygia was praying.\n\nLygia rose at last, with a face serene with hope. Ursus rose too, and,\nholding to the bench, looked at his mistress, waiting for her words.\n\nBut it grew dark in her eyes, and after a time two great tears rolled\ndown her checks slowly.\n\n\"May God bless Pomponia and Aulus,\" said she. \"It is not permitted me to\nbring ruin on them; therefore I shall never see them again.\"\n\nThen turning to Ursus she said that he alone remained to her in the\nworld; that he must be to her as a protector and a father. They could\nnot seek refuge in the house of Aulus, for they would bring on it the\nanger of Cæsar. But neither could she remain in the house of Cæsar or\nthat of Vinicius. Let Ursus take her then; let him conduct her out of\nthe city; let him conceal her in some place where neither Vinicius\nnor his servants could find her. She would follow Ursus anywhere, even\nbeyond the sea, even beyond the mountains, to the barbarians, where the\nRoman name was not heard, and whither the power of Cæsar did not reach.\nLet him take her and save her, for he alone had remained to her.\n\nThe Lygian was ready, and in sign of obedience he bent to her feet\nand embraced them. But on the face of Acte, who had been expecting a\nmiracle, disappointment was evident. Had the prayer effected only that\nmuch? To flee from the house of Cæsar is to commit an offence against\nmajesty which must be avenged; and even if Lygia succeeded in hiding,\nCæsar would avenge himself on Aulus and Pomponia. If she wishes to\nescape, let her escape from the house of Vinicius. Then Cæsar, who does\nnot like to occupy himself with the affairs of others, may not wish even\nto aid Vinicius in the pursuit; in every case it will not be a crime\nagainst majesty.\n\nBut Lygia's thoughts were just the following: Aulus would not even know\nwhere she was; Pomponia herself would not know. She would escape not\nfrom the house of Vinicius, however, but while on the way to it. When\ndrunk, Vinicius had said that he would send his slaves for her in the\nevening. Beyond doubt he had told the truth, which he would not\nhave done had he been sober. Evidently he himself, or perhaps he and\nPetronius, had seen Cæsar before the feast, and won from him the promise\nto give her on the following evening. And if they forgot that day, they\nwould send for her on the morrow. But Ursus will save her. He will come;\nhe will bear her out of the litter as he bore her out of the triclinium,\nand they will go into the world. No one could resist Ursus, not even\nthat terrible athlete who wrestled at the feast yesterday. But as\nVinicius might send a great number of slaves, Ursus would go at once\nto Bishop Linus for aid and counsel. The bishop will take compassion\non her, will not leave her in the hands of Vinicius; he will command\nChristians to go with Ursus to rescue her. They will seize her and bear\nher away; then Ursus can take her out of the city and hide her from the\npower of Rome.\n\nAnd her face began to flush and smile. Consolation entered her anew, as\nif the hope of rescue had turned to reality. She threw herself on Acte's\nneck suddenly, and, putting her beautiful lips to Acte's cheek, she\nwhispered:\n\n\"Thou wilt not betray, Acte, wilt thou?\"\n\n\"By the shade of my mother,\" answered the freedwoman, \"I will not; but\npray to thy God that Ursus be able to bear thee away.\"\n\nThe blue, childlike eyes of the giant were gleaming with happiness. He\nhad not been able to frame any plan, though he had been breaking his\npoor head; but a thing like this he could do,--and whether in the day or\nin the night it was all one to him! He would go to the bishop, for the\nbishop can read in the sky what is needed and what is not. Besides,\nhe could assemble Christians himself. Are his acquaintances few among\nslaves, gladiators, and free people, both in the Subura and beyond the\nbridges? He can collect a couple of thousand of them. He will rescue his\nlady, and take her outside the city, and he can go with her. They will\ngo to the end of the world, even to that place from which they had come,\nwhere no one has heard of Rome.\n\nHere he began to look forward, as if to see things in the future and\nvery distant.\n\n\"To the forest? Ai, what a forest, what a forest!\"\n\nBut after a while he shook himself out of his visions. Well, he will go\nto the bishop at once, and in the evening will wait with something like\na hundred men for the litter. And let not slaves, but even pretorians,\ntake her from him! Better for any man not to come under his fist, even\nthough in iron armor,--for is iron so strong? When he strikes iron\nearnestly, the head underneath will not survive.\n\nBut Lygia raised her finger with great and also childlike seriousness.\n\n\"Ursus, do not kill,\" said she.\n\nUrsus put his fist, which was like a maul, to the back of his head, and,\nrubbing his neck with great seriousness, began to mutter. But he must\nrescue \"his light.\" She herself had said that his turn had come. He will\ntry all he can. But if something happens in spite of him? In every case\nhe must save her. But should anything happen, he will repent, and so\nentreat the Innocent Lamb that the Crucified Lamb will have mercy on\nhim, poor fellow. He has no wish to offend the Lamb; but then his hands\nare so heavy.\n\nGreat tenderness was expressed on his face; but wishing to hide it, he\nbowed and said,--\"Now I will go to the holy bishop.\"\n\nActe put her arms around Lygia's neck, and began to weep. Once more the\nfreedwoman understood that there was a world in which greater happiness\nexisted, even in suffering, than in all the excesses and luxury of\nCæsar's house. Once more a kind of door to the light was opened a little\nbefore her, but she felt at once that she was unworthy to pass through\nit.\n\n\n\n\nChapter IX\n\n\nLYGIA was grieved to lose Pomponia Græcina, whom she loved with her\nwhole soul, and she grieved for the household of Aulus; still her\ndespair passed away. She felt a certain delight even in the thought that\nshe was sacrificing plenty and comfort for her Truth, and was entering\non an unknown and wandering existence. Perhaps there was in this a\nlittle also of childish curiosity as to what that life would be, off\nsomewhere in remote regions, among wild beasts and barbarians. But there\nwas still more a deep and trusting faith, that by acting thus she was\ndoing as the Divine Master had commanded, and that henceforth He Himself\nwould watch over her, as over an obedient and faithful child. In such a\ncase what harm could meet her? If sufferings come, she will endure them\nin His name. If sudden death comes, He will take her; and some time,\nwhen Pomponia dies, they will be together for all eternity. More than\nonce when she was in the house of Aulus, she tortured her childish head\nbecause she, a Christian, could do nothing for that Crucified, of whom\nUrsus spoke with such tenderness. But now the moment had come. Lygia\nfelt almost happy, and began to speak of her happiness to Acte, who\ncould not understand her, however. To leave everything,--to leave\nhouse, wealth, the city, gardens, temples, porticos, everything that\nis beautiful; leave a sunny land and people near to one--and for what\npurpose? To hide from the love of a young and stately knight. In Acte's\nhead these things could not find place. At times she felt that Lygia's\naction was right, that there must be some immense mysterious happiness\nin it; but she could not give a clear account to herself of the matter,\nespecially since an adventure was before Lygia which might have an evil\nending,--an adventure in which she might lose her life simply. Acte was\ntimid by nature, and she thought with dread of what the coming evening\nmight bring. But she was loath to mention her fears to Lygia; meanwhile,\nas the day was clear and the sun looked into the atrium, she began to\npersuade her to take the rest needed after a night without sleep. Lygia\ndid not refuse; and both went to the cubiculum, which was spacious and\nfurnished with luxury because of Acte's former relations with Cæsar.\nThere they lay down side by side, but in spite of her weariness Acte\ncould not sleep. For a long time she had been sad and unhappy, but now\nshe was seized by a certain uneasiness which she had never felt before.\nSo far life had seemed to her simply grievous and deprived of a morrow;\nnow all at once it seemed to her dishonorable.\n\nIncreasing chaos rose in her head. Again the door to light began to open\nand close. But in the moment when it opened, that light so dazzled her\nthat she could see nothing distinctly. She divined, merely, that in that\nlight there was happiness of some kind, happiness beyond measure, in\npresence of which every other was nothing, to such a degree that if\nCæsar, for example, were to set aside Poppæa, and love her, Acte, again,\nit would be vanity. Suddenly the thought came to her that that Cæsar\nwhom she loved, whom she held involuntarily as a kind of demigod, was as\npitiful as any slave, and that palace, with columns of Numidian marble,\nno better than a heap of stones. At last, however, those feelings which\nshe had not power to define began to torment her; she wanted to\nsleep, but being tortured by alarm she could not. Thinking that Lygia,\nthreatened by so many perils and uncertainties, was not sleeping either,\nshe turned to her to speak of her flight in the evening. But Lygia was\nsleeping calmly. Into the dark cubiculum, past the curtain which was not\nclosely drawn, came a few bright rays, in which golden dust-motes were\nplaying. By the light of these rays Acte saw her delicate face, resting\non her bare arm, her closed eyes, and her mouth slightly open. She was\nbreathing regularly, but as people breathe while asleep.\n\n\"She sleeps,--she is able to sleep,\" thought Acte. \"She is a child yet.\"\nStill, after a while it came to her mind that that child chose to flee\nrather than remain the beloved of Vinicius; she preferred want to shame,\nwandering to a lordly house, to robes, jewels, and feasts, to the sound\nof lutes and citharas.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nAnd she gazed at Lygia, as if to find an answer in her sleeping face.\nShe looked at her clear forehead, at the calm arch of her brows, at\nher dark tresses, at her parted lips, at her virgin bosom moved by calm\nbreathing; then she thought again,--\"How different from me!\"\n\nLygia seemed to her a miracle, a sort of divine vision, something\nbeloved of the gods, a hundred times more beautiful than all the flowers\nin Cæsar's garden, than all the statues in his palace. But in the Greek\nwoman's heart there was no envy. On the contrary, at thought of the\ndangers which threatened the girl, great pity seized her. A certain\nmotherly feeling rose in the woman. Lygia seemed to her not only as\nbeautiful as a beautiful vision, but also very dear, and, putting her\nlips to her dark hair, she kissed it.\n\nBut Lygia slept on calmly, as if at home, under the care of Pomponia\nGræcina. And she slept rather long. Midday had passed when she opened\nher blue eyes and looked around the cubiculum in astonishment. Evidently\nshe wondered that she was not in the house of Aulus.\n\n\"That is thou, Acte?\" said she at last, seeing in the darkness the face\nof the Greek.\n\n\"I, Lygia.\"\n\n\"Is it evening?\"\n\n\"No, child; but midday has passed.\"\n\n\"And has Ursus not returned?\"\n\n\"Ursus did not say that he would return; he said that he would watch in\nthe evening, with Christians, for the litter.\"\n\n\"True.\"\n\nThen they left the cubiculum and went to the bath, where Acte bathed\nLygia; then she took her to breakfast and afterward to the gardens of\nthe palace, in which no dangerous meeting might be feared, since Cæsar\nand his principal courtiers were sleeping yet. For the first time in\nher life Lygia saw those magnificent gardens, full of pines, cypresses,\noaks, olives, and myrtles, among which appeared white here and there a\nwhole population of statues. The mirror of ponds gleamed quietly; groves\nof roses were blooming, watered with the spray of fountains; entrances\nto charming grottos were encircled with a growth of ivy or woodbine;\nsilver-colored swans were sailing on the water; amidst statues and trees\nwandered tame gazelles from the deserts of Africa, and rich-colored\nbirds from all known countries on earth.\n\nThe gardens were empty; but here and there slaves were working, spade in\nhand, singing in an undertone; others, to whom was granted a moment\nof rest, were sitting by ponds or in the shade of groves, in trembling\nlight produced by sun-rays breaking in between leaves; others were\nwatering roses or the pale lily-colored blossoms of the saffron. Acte\nand Lygia walked rather long, looking at all the wonders of the gardens;\nand though Lygia's mind was not at rest, she was too much a child yet to\nresist pleasure, curiosity, and wonder. It occurred to her, even, that\nif Cæsar were good, he might be very happy in such a palace, in such\ngardens.\n\nBut at last, tired somewhat, the two women sat down on a bench hidden\nalmost entirely by dense cypresses and began to talk of that which\nweighed on their hearts most,--that is, of Lygia's escape in the\nevening. Acte was far less at rest than Lygia touching its success. At\ntimes it seemed to her even a mad project, which could not succeed.\nShe felt a growing pity for Lygia. It seemed to her that it would be\na hundred times safer to try to act on Vinicius. After a while she\ninquired of Lygia how long she had known him, and whether she did not\nthink that he would let himself be persuaded to return her to Pomponia.\n\nBut Lygia shook her dark head in sadness. \"No. In Aulus's house,\nVinicius had been different, he had been very kind, but since\nyesterday's feast she feared him, and would rather flee to the Lygians.\"\n\n\"But in Aulus's house,\" inquired Acte, \"he was dear to thee, was he\nnot?\"\n\n\"He was,\" answered Lygia, inclining her head.\n\n\"And thou wert not a slave, as I was,\" said Acte, after a moment's\nthought. \"Vinicius might marry thee. Thou art a hostage, and a daughter\nof the Lygian king. Aulus and Pomponia love thee as their own child; I\nam sure that they are ready to adopt thee. Vinicius might marry thee,\nLygia.\"\n\nBut Lygia answered calmly, and with still greater sadness, \"I would\nrather flee to the Lygians.\"\n\n\"Lygia, dost thou wish me to go directly to Vinicius, rouse him, if he\nis sleeping, and tell him what I have told thee? Yes, my precious one, I\nwill go to him and say, 'Vinicius, this is a king's daughter, and a dear\nchild of the famous Aulus; if thou love her, return her to Aulus and\nPomponia, and take her as wife from their house.'\"\n\nBut the maiden answered with a voice so low that Acte could barely hear\nit,--\n\n\"I would rather flee to the Lygians.\" And two tears were hanging on her\ndrooping lids.\n\nFurther conversation was stopped by the rustle of approaching steps, and\nbefore Acte had time to see who was coming, Poppæa Sabina appeared in\nfront of the bench with a small retinue of slave women. Two of them held\nover her head bunches of ostrich feathers fixed to golden wires; with\nthese they fanned her lightly, and at the same time protected her from\nthe autumn sun, which was hot yet. Before her a woman from Egypt, black\nas ebony, and with bosom swollen as if from milk, bore in her arms\nan infant wrapped in purple fringed with gold. Acte and Lygia rose,\nthinking that Poppæa would pass the bench without turning attention to\neither; but she halted before them and said,--\"Acte, the bells sent by\nthee for the doll were badly fastened; the child tore off one and put it\nto her mouth; luckily Lilith saw it in season.\"\n\n\"Pardon, divinity,\" answered Acte, crossing her arms on her breast and\nbending her head.\n\nBut Poppæa began to gaze at Lygia.\n\n\"What slave is this?\" asked she, after a pause.\n\n\"She is not a slave, divine Augusta, but a foster child of Pomponia\nGræcina, and a daughter of the Lygian king given by him as hostage to\nRome.\"\n\n\"And has she come to visit thee?\"\n\n\"No, Augusta. She is dwelling in the palace since the day before\nyesterday.\"\n\n\"Was she at the feast last night?\"\n\n\"She was, Augusta.\"\n\n\"At whose command?\"\n\n\"At Cæsar's command.\"\n\nPoppæa looked still more attentively at Lygia, who stood with bowed\nhead, now raising her bright eyes to her with curiosity, now covering\nthem with their lids. Suddenly a frown appeared between the brows of\nthe Augusta. Jealous of her own beauty and power, she lived in continual\nalarm lest at some time a fortunate rival might ruin her, as she had\nruined Octavia. Hence every beautiful face in the palace roused her\nsuspicion. With the eye of a critic she took in at once every part of\nLygia's form, estimated every detail of her face, and was frightened.\n\"That is simply a nymph,\" thought she, \"and 'twas Venus who gave birth\nto her.\" On a sudden this came to her mind which had never come before\nat sight of any beauty,--that she herself had grown notably older!\nWounded vanity quivered in Poppæa, alarm seized her, and various fears\nshot through her head. \"Perhaps Nero has not seen the girl, or, seeing\nher through the emerald, has not appreciated her. But what would happen\nshould he meet such a marvel in the daytime, in sunlight? Moreover she\nis not a slave, she is the daughter of a king,--a king of barbarians,\nit is true, but a king. Immortal gods! she is as beautiful as I am, but\nyounger!\" The wrinkle between her brows increased, and her eyes began to\nshine under their golden lashes with a cold gleam.\n\n\"Hast thou spoken with Cæsar?\"\n\n\"No, Augusta.\"\n\n\"Why dost thou choose to be here rather than in the house of Aulus?\"\n\n\"I do not choose, lady. Petronius persuaded Cæsar to take me from\nPomponia. I am here against my will.\"\n\n\"And wouldst thou return to Pomponia?\"\n\nThis last question Poppæa gave with a softer and milder voice; hence a\nsudden hope rose in Lygia's heart.\n\n\"Lady,\" said she, extending her hand to her, \"Cæsar promised to give\nme as a slave to Vinicius, but do thou intercede and return me to\nPomponia.\"\n\n\"Then Petronius persuaded Cæsar to take thee from Aulus, and give thee\nto Vinicius?\"\n\n\"True, lady. Vinicius is to send for me to-day, but thou art good, have\ncompassion on me.\" When she had said this, she inclined, and, seizing\nthe border of Poppæa's robe, waited for her word with beating heart.\nPoppæa looked at her for a while, with a face lighted by an evil smile,\nand said,--\"Then I promise that thou wilt become the slave of Vinicius\nthis day.\" And she went on, beautiful as a vision, but evil. To the ears\nof Lygia and Acte came only the wail of the infant, which began to cry,\nit was unknown for what reason.\n\nLygia's eyes too were filled with tears; but after a while she took\nActe's hand and said,--\"Let us return. Help is to be looked for only\nwhence it can come.\" And they returned to the atrium, which they did not\nleave till evening.\n\nWhen darkness had come and slaves brought in tapers with great flames,\nboth women were very pale. Their conversation failed every moment. Both\nwere listening to hear if some one were coming. Lygia repeated again and\nagain that, though grieved to leave Acte, she preferred that all should\ntake place that day, as Ursus must be waiting in the dark for her then.\nBut her breathing grew quicker from emotion, and louder. Acte collected\nfeverishly such jewels as she could, and, fastening them in a corner\nof Lygia's peplus, implored her not to reject that gift and means of\nescape. At moments came a deep silence full of deceptions for the ear.\nIt seemed to both that they heard at one time a whisper beyond the\ncurtain, at another the distant weeping of a child, at another the\nbarking of dogs.\n\nSuddenly the curtain of the entrance moved without noise, and a tall,\ndark man, his face marked with small-pox, appeared like a spirit in the\natrium. In one moment Lygia recognized Atacinus, a freedman of Vinicius,\nwho had visited the house of Aulus.\n\nActe screamed; but Atacinus bent low and said,--\"A greeting, divine\nLygia, from Marcus Vinicius, who awaits thee with a feast in his house\nwhich is decked in green.\"\n\nThe lips of the maiden grew pale.\n\n\"I go,\" said she.\n\nThen she threw her arms around Acte's neck in farewell.\n\n\n\n\nChapter X\n\n\nTHE house of Vinicius was indeed decked in the green of myrtle and ivy,\nwhich had been hung on the walls and over the doors. The columns were\nwreathed with grape vine. In the atrium, which was closed above by a\npurple woollen cloth as protection from the night cold, it was as clear\nas in daylight. Eight and twelve flamed lamps were burning; these were\nlike vessels, trees, animals, birds, or statues, holding cups filled\nwith perfumed olive oil, lamps of alabaster, marble, or gilded\nCorinthian bronze, not so wonderful as that famed candlestick used by\nNero and taken from the temple of Apollo, but beautiful and made by\nfamous masters. Some of the lights were shaded by Alexandrian glass,\nor transparent stuffs from the Indus, of red, blue, yellow, or violet\ncolor, so that the whole atrium was filled with many colored rays.\nEverywhere was given out the odor of nard, to which Vinicius had grown\nused, and which he had learned to love in the Orient. The depths of the\nhouse, in which the forms of male and female slaves were moving, gleamed\nalso with light. In the triclinium a table was laid for four persons.\nAt the feast were to sit, besides Vinicius and Lygia, Petronius\nand Chrysothemis. Vinicius had followed in everything the words of\nPetronius, who advised him not to go for Lygia, but to send Atacinus\nwith the permission obtained from Cæsar, to receive her himself in the\nhouse, receive her with friendliness and even with marks of honor.\n\n\"Thou wert drunk yesterday,\" said he; \"I saw thee. Thou didst act with\nher like a quarryman from the Alban Hills. Be not over-insistent, and\nremember that one should drink good wine slowly. Know too that it is\nsweet to desire, but sweeter to be desired.\"\n\nChrysothemis had her own and a somewhat different opinion on this point;\nbut Petronius, calling her his vestal and his dove, began to explain the\ndifference which must exist between a trained charioteer of the Circus\nand the youth who sits on the quadriga for the first time. Then, turning\nto Vinicius, he continued,--\"Win her confidence, make her joyful, be\nmagnanimous. I have no wish to see a gloomy feast. Swear to her, by\nHades even, that thou wilt return her to Pomponia, and it will be thy\naffair that to-morrow she prefers to stay with thee.\"\n\nThen pointing to Chrysothemis, he added,--\"For five years I have acted\nthus more or less with this timid dove, and I cannot complain of her\nharshness.\"\n\nChrysothemis struck him with her fan of peacock feathers, and\nsaid,--\"But I did not resist, thou satyr!\"\n\n\"Out of consideration for my predecessor--\"\n\n\"But wert thou not at my feet?\"\n\n\"Yes; to put rings on thy toes.\"\n\nChrysothemis looked involuntarily at her feet, on the toes of which\ndiamonds were really glittering; and she and Petronius began to laugh.\nBut Vinicius did not give ear to their bantering. His heart was beating\nunquietly under the robes of a Syrian priest, in which he had arrayed\nhimself to receive Lygia.\n\n\"They must have left the palace,\" said he, as if in a monologue.\n\n\"They must,\" answered Petronius. \"Meanwhile I may mention the\npredictions of Apollonius of Tyana, or that history of Rufinus which I\nhave not finished, I do not remember why.\"\n\nBut Vinicius cared no more for Apollonius of Tyana than for the history\nof Rufinus. His mind was with Lygia; and though he felt that it was more\nappropriate to receive her at home than to go in the rôle of a myrmidon\nto the palace, he was sorry at moments that he had not gone, for the\nsingle reason that he might have seen her sooner, and sat near her in\nthe dark, in the double litter.\n\nMeanwhile slaves brought in a tripod ornamented with rams' heads, bronze\ndishes with coals, on which they sprinkled bits of myrrh and nard.\n\n\"Now they are turning toward the Carinæ,\" said Vinicius, again.\n\n\"He cannot wait; he will run to meet the litter, and is likely to miss\nthem!\" exclaimed Chrysothemis.\n\nVinicius smiled without thinking, and said,--\"On the contrary, I will\nwait.\"\n\nBut he distended his nostrils and panted; seeing which, Petronius\nshrugged his shoulders, and said,--\"There is not in him a philosopher to\nthe value of one sestertium, and I shall never make a man of that son of\nMars.\"\n\n\"They are now in the Carinæ.\"\n\nIn fact, they were turning toward the Carinæ. The slaves called\nlampadarii were in front; others called pedisequii, were on both sides\nof the litter. Atacinus was right behind, overseeing the advance. But\nthey moved slowly, for lamps showed the way badly in a place not lighted\nat all. The streets near the palace were empty; here and there only\nsome man moved forward with a lantern, but farther on the place was\nuncommonly crowded. From almost every alley people were pushing out in\nthrees and fours, all without lamps, all in dark mantles. Some walked on\nwith the procession, mingling with the slaves; others in greater numbers\ncame from the opposite direction. Some staggered as if drunk. At moments\nthe advance grew so difficult that the lampadarii cried,--\"Give way to\nthe noble tribune, Marcus Vinicius!\"\n\nLygia saw those dark crowds through the curtains which were pushed\naside, and trembled with emotion. She was carried away at one moment by\nhope, at another by fear.\n\n\"That is he!--that is Ursus and the Christians! Now it will happen\nquickly,\" said she, with trembling lips. \"O Christ, aid! O Christ,\nsave!\"\n\nAtacinus himself, who at first did not notice the uncommon animation of\nthe street, began at last to be alarmed. There was something strange in\nthis. The lampadarii had to cry oftener and oftener, \"Give way to the\nlitter of the noble tribune!\" From the sides unknown people crowded up\nto the litter so much that Atacinus commanded the slaves to repulse them\nwith clubs.\n\nSuddenly a cry was heard in front of the procession. In one instant all\nthe lights were extinguished. Around the litter came a rush, an uproar,\na struggle.\n\nAtacinus saw that this was simply an attack; and when he saw it he was\nfrightened. It was known to all that Cæsar with a crowd of attendants\nmade attacks frequently for amusement in the Subura and in other parts\nof the city. It was known that even at times he brought out of these\nnight adventures black and blue spots; but whoso defended himself went\nto his death, even if a senator. The house of the guards, whose duty it\nwas to watch over the city, was not very far; but during such attacks\nthe guards feigned to be deaf and blind.\n\nMeanwhile there was an uproar around the litter; people struck,\nstruggled, threw, and trampled one another. The thought flashed on\nAtacinus to save Lygia and himself, above all, and leave the rest to\ntheir fate. So, drawing her out of the litter, he took her in his arms\nand strove to escape in the darkness.\n\nBut Lygia called, \"Ursus! Ursus!\"\n\nShe was dressed in white; hence it was easy to see her. Atacinus, with\nhis other arm, which was free, was throwing his own mantle over\nher hastily, when terrible claws seized his neck, and on his head a\ngigantic, crushing mass fell like a stone.\n\nHe dropped in one instant, as an ox felled by the back of an axe before\nthe altar of Jove.\n\nThe slaves for the greater part were either lying on the ground, or had\nsaved themselves by scattering in the thick darkness, around the turns\nof the walls. On the spot remained only the litter, broken in the\nonset. Ursus bore away Lygia to the Subura; his comrades followed him,\ndispersing gradually along the way.\n\nThe slaves assembled before the house of Vinicius, and took counsel.\nThey had not courage to enter. After a short deliberation they returned\nto the place of conflict, where they found a few corpses, and among\nthem Atacinus. He was quivering yet; but, after a moment of more violent\nconvulsion, he stretched and was motionless.\n\nThey took him then, and, returning, stopped before the gate a second\ntime. But they must declare to their lord what had happened.\n\n\"Let Gulo declare it,\" whispered some voices; \"blood is flowing from his\nface as from ours; and the master loves him; it is safer for Gulo than\nfor others.\"\n\nGulo, a German, an old slave, who had nursed Vinicius, and was inherited\nby him from his mother, the sister of Petronius, said,--\n\n\"I will tell him; but do ye all come. Do not let his anger fall on my\nhead alone.\"\n\nVinicius was growing thoroughly impatient. Petronius and Chrysothemis\nwere laughing; but he walked with quick step up and down the atrium.\n\n\"They ought to be here! They ought to be here!\"\n\nHe wished to go out to meet the litter, but Petronius and Chrysothemis\ndetained him.\n\nSteps were heard suddenly in the entrance; the slaves rushed into the\natrium in a crowd, and, halting quickly at the wall, raised their hands,\nand began to repeat with groaning,--\"Aaaa!--aa!\"\n\nVinicius sprang toward them.\n\n\"Where is Lygia?\" cried he, with a terrible and changed voice.\n\n\"Aaaa!\"\n\nThen Gulo pushed forward with his bloody face, and exclaimed, in haste\nand pitifully,--\n\n\"See our blood, lord! We fought! See our blood! See our blood!\"\n\nBut he had not finished when Vinicius seized a bronze lamp, and with one\nblow shattered the skull of the slave; then, seizing his own head with\nboth hands, he drove his fingers into his hair, repeating hoarsely,--\"Me\nmiserum! me miserum!\"\n\nHis face became blue, his eyes turned in his head, foam came out on his\nlips.\n\n\"Whips!\" roared he at last, with an unearthly voice.\n\n\"Lord! Aaaa! Take pity!\" groaned the slaves.\n\nPetronius stood up with an expression of disgust on his face. \"Come,\nChrysothemis!\" said he. \"If 'tis thy wish to look on raw flesh, I will\ngive command to open a butcher's stall on the Carinæ!\"\n\nAnd he walked out of the atrium. But through the whole house, ornamented\nin the green of ivy and prepared for a feast, were heard, from moment\nto moment, groans and the whistling of whips, which lasted almost till\nmorning.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XI\n\n\nVINICIUS did not lie down that night. Some time after the departure of\nPetronius, when the groans of his flogged slaves could allay neither his\nrage nor his pain, he collected a crowd of other servants, and, though\nthe night was far advanced, rushed forth at the head of these to look\nfor Lygia. He visited the district of the Esquiline, then the Subura,\nVicus Sceleratus, and all the adjoining alleys. Passing next around the\nCapitol, he went to the island over the bridge of Fabricius; after that\nhe passed through a part of the Trans-Tiber. But that was a pursuit\nwithout object, for he himself had no hope of finding Lygia, and if he\nsought her it was mainly to fill out with something a terrible night.\nIn fact he returned home about daybreak, when the carts and mules of\ndealers in vegetables began to appear in the city, and when bakers were\nopening their shops.\n\nOn returning he gave command to put away Gulo's corpse, which no one had\nventured to touch. The slaves from whom Lygia had been taken he sent to\nrural prisons,--a punishment almost more dreadful than death. Throwing\nhimself at last on a couch in the atrium, he began to think confusedly\nof how he was to find and seize Lygia.\n\nTo resign her, to lose her, not to see her again, seemed to him\nimpossible; and at this thought alone frenzy took hold of him. For the\nfirst time in life the imperious nature of the youthful soldier met\nresistance, met another unbending will, and he could not understand\nsimply how any one could have the daring to thwart his wishes. Vinicius\nwould have chosen to see the world and the city sink in ruins rather\nthan fail of his purpose. The cup of delight had been snatched from\nbefore his lips almost; hence it seemed to him that something unheard of\nhad happened, something crying to divine and human laws for vengeance.\n\nBut, first of all, he was unwilling and unable to be reconciled with\nfate, for never in life had he so desired anything as Lygia. It seemed\nto him that he could not exist without her. He could not tell himself\nwhat he was to do without her on the morrow, how he was to survive the\ndays following. At moments he was transported by a rage against her,\nwhich approached madness. He wanted to have her, to beat her, to drag\nher by the hair to the cubiculum, and gloat over her; then, again, he\nwas carried away by a terrible yearning for her voice, her form, her\neyes, and he felt that he would be ready to lie at her feet. He called\nto her, gnawed his fingers, clasped his head with his hands. He strove\nwith all his might to think calmly about searching for her,--and was\nunable. A thousand methods and means flew through his head, but one\nwilder than another. At last the thought flashed on him that no one else\nhad intercepted her but Aulus, that in every case Aulus must know where\nshe was hiding. And he sprang up to run to the house of Aulus.\n\nIf they will not yield her to him, if they have no fear of his threats,\nhe will go to Cæsar, accuse the old general of disobedience, and obtain\na sentence of death against him; but before that, he will gain from them\na confession of where Lygia is. If they give her, even willingly, he\nwill be revenged. They received him, it is true, in their house and\nnursed him,--but that is nothing! With this one injustice they have\nfreed him from every debt of gratitude. Here his vengeful and stubborn\nsoul began to take pleasure at the despair of Pomponia Græcina, when\nthe centurion would bring the death sentence to old Aulus. He was almost\ncertain that he would get it. Petronius would assist him. Moreover,\nCæsar never denies anything to his intimates, the Augustians, unless\npersonal dislike or desire enjoins a refusal.\n\nSuddenly his heart almost died within him, under the influence of this\nterrible supposition,--\"But if Cæsar himself has taken Lygia?\"\n\nAll knew that Nero from tedium sought recreation in night attacks. Even\nPetronius took part in these amusements. Their main object was to seize\nwomen and toss each on a soldier's mantle till she fainted. Even Nero\nhimself on occasions called these expeditions \"pearl hunts,\" for it\nhappened that in the depth of districts occupied by a numerous and needy\npopulation they caught a real pearl of youth and beauty sometimes. Then\nthe \"sagatio,\" as they termed the tossing, was changed into a genuine\ncarrying away, and the pearl was sent either to the Palatine or to one\nof Cæsar's numberless villas, or finally Cæsar yielded it to one of his\nintimates. So might it happen also with Lygia. Cæsar had seen her during\nthe feast; and Vinicius doubted not for an instant that she must have\nseemed to him the most beautiful woman he had seen yet. How could it\nbe otherwise? It is true that Lygia had been in Nero's own house on\nthe Palatine, and he might have kept her openly. But, as Petronius said\ntruly, Cæsar had no courage in crime, and, with power to act openly, he\nchose to act always in secret. This time fear of Poppæa might incline\nhim also to secrecy. It occurred now to the young soldier that Aulus\nwould not have dared, perhaps, to carry off forcibly a girl given\nhim, Vinicius, by Cæsar. Besides, who would dare? Would that gigantic\nblue-eyed Lygian, who had the courage to enter the triclinium and carry\nher from the feast on his arm? But where could he hide with her; whither\ncould he take her? No! a slave would not have ventured that far. Hence\nno one had done the deed except Cæsar.\n\nAt this thought it grew dark in his eyes, and drops of sweat covered his\nforehead. In that case Lygia was lost to him forever. It was possible\nto wrest her from the hands of any one else, but not from the hands of\nCæsar. Now, with greater truth than ever, could he exclaim, \"Væ misero\nmihi!\" His imagination represented Lygia in Nero's arms, and, for the\nfirst time in life, he understood that there are thoughts which are\nsimply beyond man's endurance. He knew then, for the first time, how he\nloved her. As his whole life flashes through the memory of a drowning\nman, so Lygia began to pass through his. He saw her, heard every word\nof hers,--saw her at the fountain, saw her at the house of Aulus, and at\nthe feast; felt her near him, felt the odor of her hair, the warmth of\nher body, the delight of the kisses which at the feast he had pressed\non her innocent lips. She seemed to him a hundred times sweeter, more\nbeautiful, more desired than ever,--a hundred times more the only\none, the one chosen from among all mortals and divinities. And when he\nthought that all this which had become so fixed in his heart, which had\nbecome his blood and life, might be possessed by Nero, a pain seized\nhim, which was purely physical, and so piercing that he wanted to beat\nhis head against the wall of the atrium, until he should break it. He\nfelt that he might go mad; and he would have gone mad beyond doubt, had\nnot vengeance remained to him. But as hitherto he had thought that he\ncould not live unless he got Lygia, he thought now that he would not\ndie till he had avenged her. This gave him a certain kind of comfort. \"I\nwill be thy Cassius Chærea!\" [The slayer of Caligula] said he to himself\nin thinking of Nero. After a while, seizing earth in his hands from\nthe flower vases surrounding the impluvium, he made a dreadful vow\nto Erebus, Hecate, and his own household lares, that he would have\nvengeance.\n\nAnd he received a sort of consolation. He had at least something to live\nfor and something with which to fill his nights and days. Then, dropping\nhis idea of visiting Aulus, he gave command to bear him to the Palatine.\nAlong the way he concluded that if they would not admit him to Cæsar,\nor if they should try to find weapons on his person, it would be a proof\nthat Cæsar had taken Lygia. He had no weapons with him. He had lost\npresence of mind in general; but as is usual with persons possessed by a\nsingle idea, he preserved it in that which concerned his revenge. He did\nnot wish his desire of revenge to fall away prematurely. He wished above\nall to see Acte, for he expected to learn the truth from her. At moments\nthe hope flashed on him that he might see Lygia also, and at that\nthought he began to tremble. For if Cæsar had carried her away without\nknowledge of whom he was taking, he might return her that day. But after\na while he cast aside this supposition. Had there been a wish to return\nher to him, she would have been sent yesterday. Acte was the only person\nwho could explain everything, and there was need to see her before\nothers.\n\nConvinced of this, he commanded the slaves to hasten; and along the road\nhe thought without order, now of Lygia, now of revenge. He had heard\nthat Egyptian priests of the goddess Pasht could bring disease on\nwhomever they wished, and he determined to learn the means of doing\nthis. In the Orient they had told him, too, that Jews have certain\ninvocations by which they cover their enemies' bodies with ulcers.\nHe had a number of Jews among his domestic slaves; hence he promised\nhimself to torture them on his return till they divulged the secret. He\nfound most delight, however, in thinking of the short Roman sword which\nlets out a stream of blood such as had gushed from Caius Caligula and\nmade ineffaceable stains on the columns of the portico. He was ready\nto exterminate all Rome; and had vengeful gods promised that all people\nshould die except him and Lygia, he would have accepted the promise.\n\nIn front of the arch he regained presence of mind, and thought when he\nsaw the pretorian guard, \"If they make the least difficulty in admitting\nme, they will prove that Lygia is in the palace by the will of Cæsar.\"\n\nBut the chief centurion smiled at him in a friendly manner, then\nadvanced a number of steps, and said,--\"A greeting, noble tribune.\nIf thou desire to give an obeisance to Cæsar, thou hast found an\nunfortunate moment. I do not think that thou wilt be able to see him.\"\n\n\"What has happened?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"The infant Augusta fell ill yesterday on a sudden. Cæsar and the august\nPoppæa are attending her, with physicians whom they have summoned from\nthe whole city.\"\n\nThis was an important event. When that daughter was born to him, Cæsar\nwas simply wild from delight, and received her with extra humanum\ngaudium. Previously the senate had committed the womb of Poppæa to the\ngods with the utmost solemnity. A votive offering was made at Antium,\nwhere the delivery took place; splendid games were celebrated, and\nbesides a temple was erected to the two Fortunes. Nero, unable to be\nmoderate in anything, loved the infant beyond measure; to Poppæa the\nchild was dear also, even for this, that it strengthened her position\nand made her influence irresistible.\n\nThe fate of the whole empire might depend on the health and life of the\ninfant Augusta; but Vinicius was so occupied with himself, his own case\nand his love, that without paying attention to the news of the centurion\nhe answered, \"I only wish to see Acte.\" And he passed in.\n\nBut Acte was occupied also near the child, and he had to wait a long\ntime to see her. She came only about midday, with a face pale and\nwearied, which grew paler still at sight of Vinicius.\n\n\"Acte!\" cried Vinicius, seizing her hand and drawing her to the middle\nof the atrium, \"where is Lygia?\"\n\n\"I wanted to ask thee touching that,\" answered she, looking him in the\neyes with reproach.\n\nBut though he had promised himself to inquire of her calmly, he pressed\nhis head with his hands again, and said, with a face distorted by pain\nand anger,--\"She is gone. She was taken from me on the way!\"\n\nAfter a while, however, he recovered, and thrusting his face up to\nActe's, said through his set teeth,--\"Acte! If life be dear to thee,\nif thou wish not to cause misfortunes which thou are unable even to\nimagine, answer me truly. Did Cæsar take her?\"\n\n\"Cæsar did not leave the palace yesterday.\"\n\n\"By the shade of thy mother, by all the gods, is she not in the palace?\"\n\n\"By the shade of my mother, Marcus, she is not in the palace, and Cæsar\ndid not intercept her. The infant Augusta is ill since yesterday, and\nNero has not left her cradle.\"\n\nVinicius drew breath. That which had seemed the most terrible ceased to\nthreaten him.\n\n\"Ah, then,\" said he, sitting on the bench and clinching his fists,\n\"Aulus intercepted her, and in that case woe to him!\"\n\n\"Aulus Plautius was here this morning. He could not see me, for I was\noccupied with the child; but he inquired of Epaphroditus, and others of\nCæsar's servants, touching Lygia, and told them that he would come again\nto see me.\"\n\n\"He wished to turn suspicion from himself. If he knew not what happened,\nhe would have come to seek Lygia in my house.\"\n\n\"He left a few words on a tablet, from which thou wilt see that, knowing\nLygia to have been taken from his house by Cæsar, at thy request and\nthat of Petronius, he expected that she would be sent to thee, and\nthis morning early he was at thy house, where they told him what had\nhappened.\"\n\nWhen she had said this, she went to the cubiculum and returned soon with\nthe tablet which Aulus had left.\n\nVinicius read the tablet, and was silent; Acte seemed to read the\nthoughts on his gloomy face, for she said after a while,--\"No, Marcus.\nThat has happened which Lygia herself wished.\"\n\n\"It was known to thee that she wished to flee!\" burst out Vinicius.\n\n\"I knew that she would not become thy concubine.\" And she looked at him\nwith her misty eyes almost sternly.\n\n\"And thou,--what hast thou been all thy life?\"\n\n\"I was a slave, first of all.\"\n\nBut Vinicius did not cease to be enraged. Cæsar had given him Lygia;\nhence he had no need to inquire what she had been before. He would find\nher, even under the earth, and he would do what he liked with her. He\nwould indeed! She should be his concubine. He would give command to flog\nher as often as he pleased. If she grew distasteful to him, he would\ngive her to the lowest of his slaves, or he would command her to turn a\nhandmill on his lands in Africa. He would seek her out now, and find her\nonly to bend her, to trample on her, and conquer her.\n\nAnd, growing more and more excited, he lost every sense of measure, to\nthe degree that even Acte saw that he was promising more than he could\nexecute; that he was talking because of pain and anger. She might have\nhad even compassion on him, but his extravagance exhausted her patience,\nand at last she inquired why he had come to her.\n\nVinicius did not find an answer immediately. He had come to her\nbecause he wished to come, because he judged that she would give him\ninformation; but really he had come to Cæsar, and, not being able to see\nhim, he came to her. Lygia, by fleeing, opposed the will of Cæsar; hence\nhe would implore him to give an order to search for her throughout the\ncity and the empire, even if it came to using for that purpose all the\nlegions, and to ransacking in turn every house within Roman dominion.\nPetronius would support his prayer, and the search would begin from that\nday.\n\n\"Have a care,\" answered Acte, \"lest thou lose her forever the moment she\nis found, at command of Cæsar.\"\n\nVinicius wrinkled his brows. \"What does that mean?\" inquired he.\n\n\"Listen to me, Marcus. Yesterday Lygia and I were in the gardens here,\nand we met Poppæa, with the infant Augusta, borne by an African woman,\nLilith. In the evening the child fell ill, and Lilith insists that\nshe was bewitched; that that foreign woman whom they met in the garden\nbewitched her. Should the child recover, they will forget this, but\nin the opposite case Poppæa will be the first to accuse Lygia of\nwitchcraft, and wherever she is found there will be no rescue for her.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed; then Vinicius said,--\"But perhaps she did\nbewitch her, and has bewitched me.\"\n\n\"Lilith repeats that the child began to cry the moment she carried her\npast us. And really the child did begin to cry. It is certain that she\nwas sick when they took her out of the garden. Marcus, seek for Lygia\nwhenever it may please thee, but till the infant Augusta recovers, speak\nnot of her to Cæsar, or thou wilt bring on her Poppæa's vengeance. Her\neyes have wept enough because of thee already, and may all the gods\nguard her poor head.\"\n\n\"Dost thou love her, Acte?\" inquired Vinicius, gloomily.\n\n\"Yes, I love her.\" And tears glittered in the eyes of the freedwoman.\n\n\"Thou lovest her because she has not repaid thee with hatred, as she has\nme.\"\n\nActe looked at him for a time as if hesitating, or as if wishing to\nlearn if he spoke sincerely; then she said,--\"O blind and passionate\nman--she loved thee.\"\n\nVinicius sprang up under the influence of those words, as if possessed.\n\"It is not true.\"\n\nShe hated him. How could Acte know? Would Lygia make a confession to her\nafter one day's acquaintance? What love is that which prefers wandering,\nthe disgrace of poverty, the uncertainty of to-morrow, or a shameful\ndeath even, to a wreath-bedecked house, in which a lover is waiting with\na feast? It is better for him not to hear such things, for he is ready\nto go mad. He would not have given that girl for all Cæsar's treasures,\nand she fled. What kind of love is that which dreads delight and gives\npain? Who can understand it? Who can fathom it? Were it not for the\nhope that he should find her, he would sink a sword in himself. Love\nsurrenders; it does not take away. There were moments at the house of\nAulus when he himself believed in near happiness, but now he knows\nthat she hated him, that she hates him, and will die with hatred in her\nheart.\n\nBut Acte, usually mild and timid, burst forth in her turn with\nindignation. How had he tried to win Lygia? Instead of bowing before\nAulus and Pomponia to get her, he took the child away from her parents\nby stratagem. He wanted to make, not a wife, but a concubine of her, the\nfoster daughter of an honorable house, and the daughter of a king.\nHe had her brought to this abode of crime and infamy; he defiled her\ninnocent eyes with the sight of a shameful feast; he acted with her as\nwith a wanton. Had he forgotten the house of Aulus and Pomponia Græcina,\nwho had reared Lygia? Had he not sense enough to understand that there\nare women different from Nigidia or Calvia Crispinilla or Poppæa, and\nfrom all those whom he meets in Cæsar's house? Did he not understand at\nonce on seeing Lygia that she is an honest maiden, who prefers death to\ninfamy? Whence does he know what kind of gods she worships, and whether\nthey are not purer and better than the wanton Venus, or than Isis,\nworshipped by the profligate women of Rome? No! Lygia had made no\nconfession to her, but she had said that she looked for rescue to him,\nto Vinicius: she had hoped that he would obtain for her permission from\nCæsar to return home, that he would restore her to Pomponia. And while\nspeaking of this, Lygia blushed like a maiden who loves and trusts.\nLygia's heart beat for him; but he, Vinicius, had terrified and offended\nher; had made her indignant; let him seek her now with the aid of\nCæsar's soldiers, but let him know that should Poppæa's child die,\nsuspicion will fall on Lygia, whose destruction will then be inevitable.\n\nEmotion began to force its way through the anger and pain of Vinicius.\nThe information that he was loved by Lygia shook him to the depth of his\nsoul. He remembered her in Aulus's garden, when she was listening to his\nwords with blushes on her face and her eyes full of light. It seemed\nto him then that she had begun to love him; and all at once, at that\nthought, a feeling of certain happiness embraced him, a hundred times\ngreater than that which he desired. He thought that he might have won\nher gradually, and besides as one loving him. She would have wreathed\nhis door, rubbed it with wolf's fat, and then sat as his wife by\nhis hearth on the sheepskin. He would have heard from her mouth the\nsacramental: \"Where thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.\" And she would\nhave been his forever. Why did he not act thus? True, he had been ready\nso to act. But now she is gone, and it may be impossible to find her;\nand should he find her, perhaps he will cause her death, and should he\nnot cause her death, neither she nor Aulus nor Pomponia Græcina will\nfavor him. Here anger raised the hair on his head again; but his anger\nturned now, not against the house of Aulus, or Lygia, but against\nPetronius. Petronius was to blame for everything. Had it not been\nfor him Lygia would not have been forced to wander; she would be his\nbetrothed, and no danger would be hanging over her dear head. But now\nall is past, and it is too late to correct the evil which will not yield\nto correction.\n\n\"Too late!\" And it seemed to him that a gulf had opened before his\nfeet. He did not know what to begin, how to proceed, whither to betake\nhimself. Acte repeated as an echo the words, \"Too late,\" which from\nanother's mouth sounded like a death sentence. He understood one thing,\nhowever, that he must find Lygia, or something evil would happen to him.\n\nAnd wrapping himself mechanically in his toga, he was about to depart\nwithout taking farewell even of Acte, when suddenly the curtain\nseparating the entrance from the atrium was pushed aside, and he saw\nbefore him the pensive figure of Pomponia Græcina.\n\nEvidently she too had heard of the disappearance of Lygia, and, judging\nthat she could see Acte more easily than Aulus, had come for news to\nher.\n\nBut, seeing Vinicius, she turned her pale, delicate face to him, and\nsaid, after a pause,--\"May God forgive thee the wrong, Marcus, which\nthou hast done to us and to Lygia.\"\n\nHe stood with drooping head, with a feeling of misfortune and guilt, not\nunderstanding what God was to forgive him or could forgive him. Pomponia\nhad no cause to mention forgiveness; she ought to have spoken of\nrevenge.\n\nAt last he went out with a head devoid of counsel, full of grievous\nthoughts, immense care, and amazement.\n\nIn the court and under the gallery were crowds of anxious people. Among\nslaves of the palace were knights and senators who had come to inquire\nabout the health of the infant, and at the same time to show themselves\nin the palace, and exhibit a proof of their anxiety, even in presence of\nNero's slaves. News of the illness of the \"divine\" had spread quickly\nit was evident, for new forms appeared in the gateway every moment, and\nthrough the opening of the arcade whole crowds were visible. Some of the\nnewly arrived, seeing that Vinicius was coming from the palace, attacked\nhim for news; but he hurried on without answering their questions,\ntill Petronius, who had come for news too, almost struck his breast and\nstopped him.\n\nBeyond doubt Vinicius would have become enraged at sight of Petronius,\nand let himself do some lawless act in Cæsar's palace, had it not\nbeen that when he had left Acte he was so crushed, so weighed down and\nexhausted, that for the moment even his innate irascibility had left\nhim. He pushed Petronius aside and wished to pass; but the other\ndetained him, by force almost.\n\n\"How is the divine infant?\" asked he.\n\nBut this constraint angered Vinicius a second time, and roused his\nindignation in an instant.\n\n\"May Hades swallow her and all this house!\" said he, gritting his teeth.\n\n\"Silence, hapless man!\" said Petronius, and looking around he added\nhurriedly,--\"If thou wish to know something of Lygia, come with me; I\nwill tell nothing here! Come with me; I will tell my thoughts in the\nlitter.\"\n\nAnd putting his arm around the young tribune, he conducted him from the\npalace as quickly as possible. That was his main concern, for he had no\nnews whatever; but being a man of resources, and having, in spite of\nhis indignation of yesterday, much sympathy for Vinicius, and finally\nfeeling responsible for all that had happened, he had undertaken\nsomething already, and when they entered the litter he said,--\"I have\ncommanded my slaves to watch at every gate. I gave them an accurate\ndescription of the girl, and that giant who bore her from the feast at\nCæsar's,--for he is the man, beyond doubt, who intercepted her. Listen\nto me: Perhaps Aulus and Pomponia wish to secrete her in some estate\nof theirs; in that case we shall learn the direction in which they took\nher. If my slaves do not see her at some gate, we shall know that she\nis in the city yet, and shall begin this very day to search in Rome for\nher.\"\n\n\"Aulus does not know where she is,\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Art thou sure of that?\"\n\n\"I saw Pomponia. She too is looking for her.\"\n\n\"She could not leave the city yesterday, for the gates are closed at\nnight. Two of my people are watching at each gate. One is to follow\nLygia and the giant, the other to return at once and inform me. If she\nis in the city, we shall find her, for that Lygian is easily recognized,\neven by his stature and his shoulders. Thou art lucky that it was not\nCæsar who took her, and I can assure thee that he did not, for there are\nno secrets from me on the Palatine.\"\n\nBut Vinicius burst forth in sorrow still more than in anger, and in a\nvoice broken by emotion told Petronius what he had heard from Acte,\nand what new dangers were threatening Lygia,--dangers so dreadful\nthat because of them there would be need to hide her from Poppæa most\ncarefully, in case they discovered her. Then he reproached Petronius\nbitterly for his counsel. Had it not been for him, everything would have\ngone differently. Lygia would have been at the house of Aulus, and he,\nVinicius, might have seen her every day, and he would have been happier\nat that moment than Cæsar. And carried away as he went on with his\nnarrative, he yielded more and more to emotion, till at last tears of\nsorrow and rage began to fall from his eyes.\n\nPetronius, who had not even thought that the young man could love\nand desire to such a degree, when he saw the tears of despair said to\nhimself, with a certain astonishment,--\"O mighty Lady of Cyprus, thou\nalone art ruler of gods and men!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XII\n\n\nWHEN they alighted in front of the arbiter's house, the chief of the\natrium answered them that of slaves sent to the gates none had returned\nyet. The atriensis had given orders to take food to them, and a new\ncommand, that under penalty of rods they were to watch carefully all who\nleft the city.\n\n\"Thou seest,\" said Petronius, \"that they are in Rome, beyond doubt, and\nin that case we shall find them. But command thy people also to watch\nat the gates,--those, namely, who were sent for Lygia, as they will\nrecognize her easily.\"\n\n\"I have given orders to send them to rural prisons,\" said Vinicius, \"but\nI will recall the orders at once, and let them go to the gates.\"\n\nAnd writing a few words on a wax-covered tablet, he handed it to\nPetronius, who gave directions to send it at once to the house of\nVinicius. Then they passed into the interior portico, and, sitting on\na marble bench, began to talk. The golden-haired Eunice and Iras pushed\nbronze footstools under their feet, and poured wine for them into\ngoblets, out of wonderful narrow-necked pitchers from Volaterræ and\nCæcina.\n\n\"Hast thou among thy people any one who knows that giant Lygian?\" asked\nPetronius.\n\n\"Atacinus and Gulo knew him; but Atacinus fell yesterday at the litter,\nand Gulo I killed.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for him,\" said Petronius. \"He carried not only thee, but me,\nin his arms.\"\n\n\"I intended to free him,\" answered Vinicius; \"but do not mention him.\nLet us speak of Lygia. Rome is a sea-\"\n\n\"A sea is just the place where men fish for pearls. Of course we shall\nnot find her to-day, or to-morrow, but we shall find her surely. Thou\nhast accused me just now of giving thee this method; but the method was\ngood in itself, and became bad only when turned to bad. Thou hast heard\nfrom Aulus himself, that he intends to go to Sicily with his whole\nfamily. In that case the girl would be far from thee.\"\n\n\"I should follow them,\" said Vinicius, \"and in every case she would be\nout of danger; but now, if that child dies, Poppæa will believe, and\nwill persuade Cæsar, that she died because of Lygia.\"\n\n\"True; that alarmed me, too. But that little doll may recover. Should\nshe die, we shall find some way of escape.\"\n\nHere Petronius meditated a while and added,--\"Poppæa, it is said,\nfollows the religion of the Jews, and believes in evil spirits. Cæsar\nis superstitious. If we spread the report that evil spirits carried off\nLygia, the news will find belief, especially as neither Cæsar nor Aulus\nPlautius intercepted her; her escape was really mysterious. The Lygian\ncould not have effected it alone; he must have had help. And where could\na slave find so many people in the course of one day?\"\n\n\"Slaves help one another in Rome.\"\n\n\"Some person pays for that with blood at times. True, they support one\nanother, but not some against others. In this case it was known that\nresponsibility and punishment would fall on thy people. If thou give\nthy people the idea of evil spirits, they will say at once that they saw\nsuch with their own eyes, because that will justify them in thy sight.\nAsk one of them, as a test, if he did not see spirits carrying off Lygia\nthrough the air, he will swear at once by the ægis of Zeus that he saw\nthem.\"\n\nVinicius, who was superstitious also, looked at Petronius with sudden\nand great fear.\n\n\"If Ursus could not have men to help him, and was not able to take her\nalone, who could take her?\"\n\nPetronius began to laugh.\n\n\"See,\" said he, \"they will believe, since thou art half a believer\nthyself. Such is our society, which ridicules the gods. They, too, will\nbelieve, and they will not look for her. Meanwhile we shall put her away\nsomewhere far off from the city, in some villa of mine or thine.\"\n\n\"But who could help her?\"\n\n\"Her co-religionists,\" answered Petronius.\n\n\"Who are they? What deity does she worship? I ought to know that better\nthan thou.\"\n\n\"Nearly every woman in Rome honors a different one. It is almost beyond\ndoubt that Pomponia reared her in the religion of that deity which\nshe herself worships; what one she worships I know not. One thing is\ncertain, that no person has seen her make an offering to our gods in any\ntemple. They have accused her even of being a Christian; but that is not\npossible; a domestic tribunal cleared her of the charge. They say that\nChristians not only worship an ass's head, but are enemies of the human\nrace, and permit the foulest crimes. Pomponia cannot be a Christian,\nas her virtue is known, and an enemy of the human race could not treat\nslaves as she does.\"\n\n\"In no house are they treated as at Aulus's,\" interrupted Vinicius.\n\n\"Ah! Pomponia mentioned to me some god, who must be one powerful and\nmerciful. Where she has put away all the others is her affair; it is\nenough that that Logos of hers cannot be very mighty, or rather he must\nbe a very weak god, since he has had only two adherents,--Pomponia and\nLygia,--and Ursus in addition. It must be that there are more of those\nadherents, and that they assisted Lygia.\"\n\n\"That faith commands forgiveness,\" said Vinicius. \"At Acte's I met\nPomponia, who said to me: 'May God forgive thee the evil which thou hast\ndone to us and to Lygia.'\"\n\n\"Evidently their God is some curator who is very mild. Ha! let him\nforgive thee, and in sign of forgiveness return thee the maiden.\"\n\n\"I would offer him a hecatomb to-morrow! I have no wish for food, or the\nbath, or sleep. I will take a dark lantern and wander through the city.\nPerhaps I shall find her in disguise. I am sick.\"\n\nPetronius looked at him with commiseration. In fact, there was blue\nunder his eyes, his pupils were gleaming with fever, his unshaven beard\nindicated a dark strip on his firmly outlined jaws, his hair was in\ndisorder, and he was really like a sick man. Iras and the golden-haired\nEunice looked at him also with sympathy; but he seemed not to see them,\nand he and Petronius took no notice whatever of the slave women, just as\nthey would not have noticed dogs moving around them.\n\n\"Fever is tormenting thee,\" said Petronius.\n\n\"It is.\"\n\n\"Then listen to me. I know not what the doctor has prescribed to thee,\nbut I know how I should act in thy place. Till this lost one is found I\nshould seek in another that which for the moment has gone from me with\nher. I saw splendid forms at thy villa. Do not contradict me. I know\nwhat love is; and I know that when one is desired another cannot\ntake her place. But in a beautiful slave it is possible to find even\nmomentary distraction.\"\n\n\"I do not need it,\" said Vinicius.\n\nBut Petronius, who had for him a real weakness, and who wished to soften\nhis pain, began to meditate how he might do so.\n\n\"Perhaps thine have not for thee the charm of novelty,\" said he, after a\nwhile (and here he began to look in turn at Iras and Eunice, and finally\nhe placed his palm on the hip of the golden-haired Eunice). \"Look\nat this grace! for whom some days since Fonteius Capiton the younger\noffered three wonderful boys from Clazomene. A more beautiful figure\nthan hers even Skopas himself has not chiselled. I myself cannot tell\nwhy I have remained indifferent to her thus far, since thoughts of\nChrysothemis have not restrained me. Well, I give her to thee; take her\nfor thyself!\"\n\nWhen the golden-haired Eunice heard this, she grew pale in one moment,\nand, looking with frightened eyes on Vinicius, seemed to wait for his\nanswer without breath in her breast.\n\nBut he sprang up suddenly, and, pressing his temples with his hands,\nsaid quickly, like a man who is tortured by disease, and will not hear\nanything,--\"No, no! I care not for her! I care not for others! I thank\nthee, but I do not want her. I will seek that one through the city. Give\ncommand to bring me a Gallic cloak with a hood. I will go beyond the\nTiber--if I could see even Ursus.\"\n\nAnd he hurried away. Petronius, seeing that he could not remain in one\nplace, did not try to detain him. Taking, however, his refusal as a\ntemporary dislike for all women save Lygia, and not wishing his own\nmagnanimity to go for naught, he said, turning to the slave,--\"Eunice,\nthou wilt bathe and anoint thyself, then dress: after that thou wilt go\nto the house of Vinicius.\"\n\nBut she dropped before him on her knees, and with joined palms implored\nhim not to remove her from the house. She would not go to Vinicius, she\nsaid. She would rather carry fuel to the hypocaustum in his house than\nbe chief servant in that of Vinicius. She would not, she could not go;\nand she begged him to have pity on her. Let him give command to flog her\ndaily, only not send her away.\n\nAnd trembling like a leaf with fear and excitement, she stretched her\nhands to him, while he listened with amazement. A slave who ventured to\nbeg relief from the fulfilment of a command, who said \"I will not and\nI cannot,\" was something so unheard-of in Rome that Petronius could not\nbelieve his own ears at first. Finally he frowned. He was too refined\nto be cruel. His slaves, especially in the department of pleasure,\nwere freer than others, on condition of performing their service in an\nexemplary manner, and honoring the will of their master, like that of a\ngod. In case they failed in these two respects, he was able not to spare\npunishment, to which, according to general custom, they were subject.\nSince, besides this, he could not endure opposition, nor anything which\nruffled his calmness, he looked for a while at the kneeling girl, and\nthen said,--\"Call Tiresias, and return with him.\"\n\nEunice rose, trembling, with tears in her eyes, and went out; after a\ntime she returned with the chief of the atrium, Tiresias, a Cretan.\n\n\"Thou wilt take Eunice,\" said Petronius, \"and give her five-and-twenty\nlashes, in such fashion, however, as not to harm her skin.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he passed into the library, and, sitting down\nat a table of rose-colored marble, began to work on his \"Feast of\nTrimalchion.\" But the flight of Lygia and the illness of the infant\nAugusta had disturbed his mind so much that he could not work long. That\nillness, above all, was important. It occurred to Petronius that\nwere Cæsar to believe that Lygia had cast spells on the infant, the\nresponsibility might fall on him also, for the girl had been brought\nat his request to the palace. But he could reckon on this, that at the\nfirst interview with Cæsar he would be able in some way to show the\nutter absurdity of such an idea; he counted a little, too, on a certain\nweakness which Poppæa had for him,--a weakness hidden carefully, it is\ntrue, but not so carefully that he could not divine it. After a while\nhe shrugged his shoulders at these fears, and decided to go to the\ntriclinium to strengthen himself, and then order the litter to bear him\nonce more to the palace, after that to the Campus Martius, and then to\nChrysothemis.\n\nBut on the way to the triclinium at the entrance to the corridor\nassigned to servants, he saw unexpectedly the slender form of Eunice\nstanding, among other slaves, at the wall; and forgetting that he had\ngiven Tiresias no order beyond flogging her, he wrinkled his brow again,\nand looked around for the atriensis. Not seeing him among the servants,\nhe turned to Eunice.\n\n\"Hast thou received the lashes?\"\n\nShe cast herself at his feet a second time, pressed the border of his\ntoga to her lips, and said,--\"Oh, yes, lord, I have received them! Oh,\nyes, lord!\" In her voice were heard, as it were, joy and gratitude. It\nwas clear that she looked on the lashes as a substitute for her removal\nfrom the house, and that now she might stay there. Petronius, who\nunderstood this, wondered at the passionate resistance of the girl; but\nhe was too deeply versed in human nature not to know that love alone\ncould call forth such resistance.\n\n\"Dost thou love some one in this house?\" asked he.\n\nShe raised her blue, tearful eyes to him, and answered, in a voice so\nlow that it was hardly possible to hear her,--\"Yes, lord.\"\n\nAnd with those eyes, with that golden hair thrown back, with fear\nand hope in her face, she was so beautiful, she looked at him so\nentreatingly, that Petronius, who, as a philosopher, had proclaimed the\nmight of love, and who, as a man of æsthetic nature, had given homage to\nall beauty, felt for her a certain species of compassion.\n\n\"Whom of those dost thou love?\" inquired he, indicating the servants\nwith his head.\n\nThere was no answer to that question. Eunice inclined her head to his\nfeet and remained motionless.\n\nPetronius looked at the slaves, among whom were beautiful and stately\nyouths. He could read nothing on any face; on the contrary, all had\ncertain strange smiles. He looked then for a while on Eunice lying at\nhis feet, and went in silence to the triclinium.\n\nAfter he had eaten, he gave command to bear him to the palace, and then\nto Chrysothemis, with whom he remained till late at night. But when he\nreturned, he gave command to call Tiresias.\n\n\"Did Eunice receive the flogging?\" inquired he.\n\n\"She did, lord. Thou didst not let the skin be cut, however.\"\n\n\"Did I give no other command touching her?\"\n\n\"No, lord,\" answered the atriensis with alarm.\n\n\"That is well. Whom of the slaves does she love?\"\n\n\"No one, lord.\"\n\n\"What dost thou know of her?\"\n\nTiresias began to speak in a somewhat uncertain voice:\n\n\"At night Eunice never leaves the cubiculum in which she lives with\nold Acrisiona and Ifida; after thou art dressed she never goes to the\nbath-rooms. Other slaves ridicule her, and call her Diana.\"\n\n\"Enough,\" said Petronius. \"My relative, Vinicius, to whom I offered her\nto-day, did not accept her; hence she may stay in the house. Thou art\nfree to go.\"\n\n\"Is it permitted me to speak more of Eunice, lord?\"\n\n\"I have commanded thee to say all thou knowest.\"\n\n\"The whole familia are speaking of the flight of the maiden who was to\ndwell in the house of the noble Vinicius. After thy departure, Eunice\ncame to me and said that she knew a man who could find her.\"\n\n\"Ah! What kind of man is he?\"\n\n\"I know not, lord; but I thought that I ought to inform thee of this\nmatter.\"\n\n\"That is well. Let that man wait to-morrow in my house for the arrival\nof the tribune, whom thou wilt request in my name to meet me here.\"\n\nThe atriensis bowed and went out. But Petronius began to think of\nEunice. At first it seemed clear to him that the young slave wished\nVinicius to find Lygia for this reason only, that she would not be\nforced from his house. Afterward, however, it occurred to him that the\nman whom Eunice was pushing forward might be her lover, and all at once\nthat thought seemed to him disagreeable. There was, it is true, a simple\nway of learning the truth, for it was enough to summon Eunice; but\nthe hour was late, Petronius felt tired after his long visit with\nChrysothemis, and was in a hurry to sleep. But on the way to the\ncubiculum he remembered--it is unknown why--that he had noticed\nwrinkles, that day, in the corners of Chrysothemis's eyes. He thought,\nalso, that her beauty was more celebrated in Rome than it deserved; and\nthat Fonteius Capiton, who had offered him three boys from Clazomene for\nEunice, wanted to buy her too cheaply.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIII\n\n\nNEXT morning, Petronius had barely finished dressing in the unctorium\nwhen Vinicius came, called by Tiresias. He knew that no news had come\nfrom the gates. This information, instead of comforting him, as a proof\nthat Lygia was still in Rome, weighed him down still more, for he began\nto think that Ursus might have conducted her out of the city immediately\nafter her seizure, and hence before Petronius's slaves had begun to\nkeep watch at the gates. It is true that in autumn, when the days become\nshorter, the gates are closed rather early; but it is true, also,\nthat they are opened for persons going out, and the number of these is\nconsiderable. It was possible, also, to pass the walls by other ways,\nwell known, for instance, to slaves who wish to escape from the city.\nVinicius had sent out his people to all roads leading to the provinces,\nto watchmen in the smaller towns, proclaiming a pair of fugitive slaves,\nwith a detailed description of Ursus and Lygia, coupled with the offer\nof a reward for seizing them. But it was doubtful whether that pursuit\nwould reach the fugitives; and even should it reach them, whether the\nlocal authorities would feel justified in making the arrest at the\nprivate instance of Vinicius, without the support of a pretor. Indeed,\nthere had not been time to obtain such support. Vinicius himself,\ndisguised as a slave, had sought Lygia the whole day before, through\nevery corner of the city, but had been unable to find the least\nindication or trace of her. He had seen Aulus's servants, it is true;\nbut they seemed to be seeking something also, and that confirmed him\nin the belief that it was not Aulus who had intercepted the maiden, and\nthat the old general did not know what had happened to her.\n\nWhen Tiresias announced to him, then, that there was a man who would\nundertake to find Lygia, he hurried with all speed to the house of\nPetronius; and barely had he finished saluting his uncle, when he\ninquired for the man.\n\n\"We shall see him at once, Eunice knows him,\" said Petronius. \"She will\ncome this moment to arrange the folds of my toga, and will give nearer\ninformation concerning him.\"\n\n\"Oh! she whom thou hadst the wish to bestow on me yesterday?\"\n\n\"The one whom thou didst reject; for which I am grateful, for she is the\nbest vestiplica in the whole city.\"\n\nIn fact, the vestiplica came in before he had finished speaking, and\ntaking the toga, laid on a chair inlaid with pearl, she opened the\ngarment to throw it on Petronius's shoulder. Her face was clear and\ncalm; joy was in her eyes.\n\nPetronius looked at her. She seemed to him very beautiful. After a\nwhile, when she had covered him with the toga, she began to arrange it,\nbending at times to lengthen the folds. He noticed that her arms had a\nmarvellous pale rose-color, and her bosom and shoulders the transparent\nreflections of pearl or alabaster.\n\n\"Eunice,\" said he, \"has the man come to Tiresias whom thou didst mention\nyesterday?\"\n\n\"He has, lord.\"\n\n\"What is his name?\"\n\n\"Chilo Chilonides.\"\n\n\"Who is he?\"\n\n\"A physician, a sage, a soothsayer, who knows how to read people's fates\nand predict the future.\"\n\n\"Has he predicted the future to thee?\"\n\nEunice was covered with a blush which gave a rosy color to her ears and\nher neck even.\n\n\"Yes, lord.\"\n\n\"What has he predicted?\"\n\n\"That pain and happiness would meet me.\"\n\n\"Pain met thee yesterday at the hands of Tiresias; hence happiness also\nshould come.\"\n\n\"It has come, lord, already.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I remain,\" said she in a whisper.\n\nPetronius put his hand on her golden head.\n\n\"Thou hast arranged the folds well to-day, and I am satisfied with thee,\nEunice.\"\n\nUnder that touch her eyes were mist-covered in one instant from\nhappiness, and her bosom began to heave quickly.\n\nPetronius and Vinicius passed into the atrium, where Chilo Chilonides\nwas waiting. When he saw them, he made a low bow. A smile came to the\nlips of Petronius at thought of his suspicion of yesterday, that this\nman might be Eunice's lover. The man who was standing before him could\nnot be any one's lover. In that marvellous figure there was something\nboth foul and ridiculous. He was not old; in his dirty beard and curly\nlocks a gray hair shone here and there. He had a lank stomach and\nstooping shoulders, so that at the first cast of the eye he appeared to\nbe hunchbacked; above that hump rose a large head, with the face of\na monkey and also of a fox; the eye was penetrating. His yellowish\ncomplexion was varied with pimples; and his nose, covered with them\ncompletely, might indicate too great a love for the bottle. His\nneglected apparel, composed of a dark tunic of goat's wool and a mantle\nof similar material with holes in it, showed real or simulated poverty.\nAt sight of him, Homer's Thersites came to the mind of Petronius. Hence,\nanswering with a wave of the hand to his bow, he said,--\n\n\"A greeting, divine Thersites! How are the lumps which Ulysses gave thee\nat Troy, and what is he doing himself in the Elysian Fields?\"\n\n\"Noble lord,\" answered Chilo Chilonides, \"Ulysses, the wisest of the\ndead, sends a greeting through me to Petronius, the wisest of the\nliving, and the request to cover my lumps with a new mantle.\"\n\n\"By Hecate Triformis!\" exclaimed Petronius, \"the answer deserves a new\nmantle.\"\n\nBut further conversation was interrupted by the impatient Vinicius, who\ninquired directly,--\"Dost thou know clearly what thou art undertaking?\"\n\n\"When two households in two lordly mansions speak of naught else, and\nwhen half Rome is repeating the news, it is not difficult to know,\"\nanswered Chilo. \"The night before last a maiden named Lygia, but\nspecially Callina, and reared in the house of Aulus Plautius, was\nintercepted. Thy slaves were conducting her, O lord, from Cæsar's palace\nto thy 'insula,' and I undertake to find her in the city, or, if she\nhas left the city--which is little likely--to indicate to thee, noble\ntribune, whither she has fled and where she has hidden.\"\n\n\"That is well,\" said Vinicius, who was pleased with the precision of the\nanswer. \"What means hast thou to do this?\"\n\nChilo smiled cunningly. \"Thou hast the means, lord; I have the wit\nonly.\"\n\nPetronius smiled also, for he was perfectly satisfied with his guest.\n\n\"That man can find the maiden,\" thought he. Meanwhile Vinicius wrinkled\nhis joined brows, and said,--\"Wretch, in case thou deceive me for gain,\nI will give command to beat thee with clubs.\"\n\n\"I am a philosopher, lord, and a philosopher cannot be greedy of gain,\nespecially of such as thou hast just offered magnanimously.\"\n\n\"Oh, art thou a philosopher?\" inquired Petronius. \"Eunice told me that\nthou art a physician and a soothsayer. Whence knowest thou Eunice?\"\n\n\"She came to me for aid, for my fame struck her ears.\"\n\n\"What aid did she want?\"\n\n\"Aid in love, lord. She wanted to be cured of unrequited love.\"\n\n\"Didst thou cure her?\"\n\n\"I did more, lord. I gave her an amulet which secures mutuality. In\nPaphos, on the island of Cyprus, is a temple, O lord, in which is\npreserved a zone of Venus. I gave her two threads from that zone,\nenclosed in an almond shell.\"\n\n\"And didst thou make her pay well for them?\"\n\n\"One can never pay enough for mutuality, and I, who lack two fingers on\nmy right hand, am collecting money to buy a slave copyist to write down\nmy thoughts, and preserve my wisdom for mankind.\"\n\n\"Of what school art thou, divine sage?\"\n\n\"I am a Cynic, lord, because I wear a tattered mantle; I am a Stoic,\nbecause I bear poverty patiently; I am a Peripatetic, for, not owning a\nlitter, I go on foot from one wine-shop to another, and on the way teach\nthose who promise to pay for a pitcher of wine.\"\n\n\"And at the pitcher thou dost become a rhetor?\"\n\n\"Heraclitus declares that 'all is fluid,' and canst thou deny, lord,\nthat wine is fluid?\"\n\n\"And he declared that fire is a divinity; divinity, therefore, is\nblushing in thy nose.\"\n\n\"But the divine Diogenes from Apollonia declared that air is the essence\nof things, and the warmer the air the more perfect the beings it makes,\nand from the warmest come the souls of sages. And since the autumns are\ncold, a genuine sage should warm his soul with wine; and wouldst thou\nhinder, O lord, a pitcher of even the stuff produced in Capua or Telesia\nfrom bearing heat to all the bones of a perishable human body?\"\n\n\"Chilo Chilonides, where is thy birthplace?\"\n\n\"On the Euxine Pontus. I come from Mesembria.\"\n\n\"Oh, Chilo, thou art great!\"\n\n\"And unrecognized,\" said the sage, pensively.\n\nBut Vinicius was impatient again. In view of the hope which had gleamed\nbefore him, he wished Chilo to set out at once on his work; hence the\nwhole conversation seemed to him simply a vain loss of time, and he was\nangry at Petronius.\n\n\"When wilt thou begin the search?\" asked he, turning to the Greek.\n\n\"I have begun it already,\" answered Chilo. \"And since I am here,\nand answering thy affable question, I am searching yet. Only have\nconfidence, honored tribune, and know that if thou wert to lose the\nstring of thy sandal I should find it, or him who picked it up on the\nstreet.\"\n\n\"Hast thou been employed in similar services?\" asked Petronius.\n\nThe Greek raised his eyes. \"To-day men esteem virtue and wisdom too low,\nfor a philosopher not to be forced to seek other means of living.\"\n\n\"What are thy means?\"\n\n\"To know everything, and to serve those with news who are in need of\nit.\"\n\n\"And who pay for it?\"\n\n\"Ah, lord, I need to buy a copyist. Otherwise my wisdom will perish with\nme.\"\n\n\"If thou hast not collected enough yet to buy a sound mantle, thy\nservices cannot be very famous.\"\n\n\"Modesty hinders me. But remember, lord, that to-day there are not such\nbenefactors as were numerous formerly; and for whom it was as pleasant\nto cover service with gold as to swallow an oyster from Puteoli. No; my\nservices are not small, but the gratitude of mankind is small. At times,\nwhen a valued slave escapes, who will find him, if not the only son of\nmy father? When on the walls there are inscriptions against the divine\nPoppæa, who will indicate those who composed them? Who will discover at\nthe book-stalls verses against Cæsar? Who will declare what is said in\nthe houses of knights and senators? Who will carry letters which the\nwriters will not intrust to slaves? Who will listen to news at the doors\nof barbers? For whom have wine-shops and bake-shops no secret? In whom\ndo slaves trust? Who can see through every house, from the atrium to the\ngarden? Who knows every street, every alley and hiding-place? Who\nknows what they say in the baths, in the Circus, in the markets, in the\nfencing-schools, in slave-dealers' sheds, and even in the arenas?\"\n\n\"By the gods! enough, noble sage!\" cried Petronius; \"we are drowning\nin thy services, thy virtue, thy wisdom, and thy eloquence. Enough! We\nwanted to know who thou art, and we know!\"\n\nBut Vinicius was glad, for he thought that this man, like a hound, once\nput on the trail, would not stop till he had found out the hiding-place.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"dost thou need indications?\"\n\n\"I need arms.\"\n\n\"Of what kind?\" asked Vinicius, with astonishment.\n\nThe Greek stretched out one hand; with the other he made the gesture of\ncounting money.\n\n\"Such are the times, lord,\" said he, with a sigh.\n\n\"Thou wilt be the ass, then,\" said Petronius, \"to win the fortress with\nbags of gold?\"\n\n\"I am only a poor philosopher,\" answered Chilo, with humility; \"ye have\nthe gold.\"\n\nVinicius tossed him a purse, which the Greek caught in the air, though\ntwo fingers were lacking on his right hand.\n\nHe raised his head then, and said: \"I know more than thou thinkest.\nI have not come empty-handed. I know that Aulus did not intercept the\nmaiden, for I have spoken with his slaves. I know that she is not on the\nPalatine, for all are occupied with the infant Augusta; and perhaps\nI may even divine why ye prefer to search for the maiden with my help\nrather than that of the city guards and Cæsar's soldiers. I know that\nher escape was effected by a servant,--a slave coming from the same\ncountry as she. He could not find assistance among slaves, for slaves\nall stand together, and would not act against thy slaves. Only a\nco-religionist would help him.\"\n\n\"Dost hear, Vinicius?\" broke in Petronius. \"Have I not said the same,\nword for word, to thee?\"\n\n\"That is an honor for me,\" said Chilo. \"The maiden, lord,\" continued he,\nturning again to Vinicius, \"worships beyond a doubt the same divinity\nas that most virtuous of Roman ladies, that genuine matron, Pomponia.\nI have heard this, too, that Pomponia was tried in her own house for\nworshipping some kind of foreign god, but I could not learn from her\nslaves what god that is, or what his worshippers are called. If I could\nlearn that, I should go to them, become the most devoted among them, and\ngain their confidence. But thou, lord, who hast passed, as I know too,\na number of days in the house of the noble Aulus, canst thou not give me\nsome information thereon?\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"Ye have asked me long about various things, noble lords, and I have\nanswered the questions; permit me now to give one. Hast thou not seen,\nhonored tribune, some statuette, some offering, some token, some amulet\non Pomponia or thy divine Lygia? Hast thou not seen them making signs to\neach other, intelligible to them alone?\"\n\n\"Signs? Wait! Yes; I saw once that Lygia made a fish on the sand.\"\n\n\"A fish? A-a! O-o-o! Did she do that once, or a number of times?\"\n\n\"Only once.\"\n\n\"And art thou certain, lord, that she outlined a fish? O-o?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Vinicius, with roused curiosity. \"Dost thou divine what\nthat means?\"\n\n\"Do I divine!\" exclaimed Chilo. And bowing in sign of farewell, he\nadded: \"May Fortune scatter on you both equally all gifts, worthy\nlords!\"\n\n\"Give command to bring thee a mantle,\" said Petronius to him at parting.\n\n\"Ulysses gives thee thanks for Thersites,\" said the Greek; and bowing a\nsecond time, he walked out.\n\n\"What wilt thou say of that noble sage?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"This, that he will find Lygia,\" answered Vinicius, with delight; \"but I\nwill say, too, that were there a kingdom of rogues he might be the king\nof it.\"\n\n\"Most certainly. I shall make a nearer acquaintance with this stoic;\nmeanwhile I must give command to perfume the atrium.\"\n\nBut Chilo Chilonides, wrapping his new mantle about him, threw up on\nhis palm, under its folds, the purse received from Vinicius, and admired\nboth its weight and its jingle. Walking on slowly, and looking around\nto see if they were not looking at him from the house, he passed the\nportico of Livia, and, reaching the corner of the Clivus Virbius, turned\ntoward the Subura.\n\n\"I must go to Sporus,\" said he to himself, \"and pour out a little wine\nto Fortuna. I have found at last what I have been seeking this long\ntime. He is young, irascible, bounteous as mines in Cyprus, and ready\nto give half his fortune for that Lygian linnet. Just such a man have\nI been seeking this long time. It is needful, however, to be on one's\nguard with him, for the wrinkling of his brow forebodes no good. Ah! the\nwolf-whelps lord it over the world to-day! I should fear that Petronius\nless. O gods! but the trade of procurer pays better at present than\nvirtue. Ah! she drew a fish on the sand! If I know what that means, may\nI choke myself with a piece of goat's cheese! But I shall know. Fish\nlive under water, and searching under water is more difficult than on\nland, ergo he will pay me separately for this fish. Another such purse\nand I might cast aside the beggar's wallet and buy myself a slave. But\nwhat wouldst thou say, Chilo, were I to advise thee to buy not a male\nbut a female slave? I know thee; I know that thou wouldst consent. If\nshe were beautiful, like Eunice, for instance, thou thyself wouldst grow\nyoung near her, and at the same time wouldst have from her a good and\ncertain income. I sold to that poor Eunice two threads from my old\nmantle. She is dull; but if Petronius were to give her to me, I would\ntake her. Yes, yes, Chilo Chilonides, thou hast lost father and mother,\nthou art an orphan; therefore buy to console thee even a female slave.\nShe must indeed live somewhere, therefore Vinicius will hire her a\ndwelling, in which thou too mayest find shelter; she must dress, hence\nVinicius will pay for the dress; and must eat, hence he will support\nher. Och! what a hard life! Where are the times in which for an obolus a\nman could buy as much pork and beans as he could hold in both hands, or\na piece of goat's entrails as long as the arm of a boy twelve years old,\nand filled with blood? But here is that villain Sporus! In the wine-shop\nit will be easier to learn something.\"\n\nThus conversing, he entered the wine-shop and ordered a pitcher of\n\"dark\" for himself. Seeing the sceptical look of the shopkeeper, he\ntook a gold coin from his purse, and, putting it on the table,\nsaid,--\"Sporus, I toiled to-day with Seneca from dawn till midday, and\nthis is what my friend gave me at parting.\"\n\nThe plump eyes of Sporus became plumper still at this sight, and the\nwine was soon before Chilo. Moistening his fingers in it, he drew a fish\non the table, and said,--\"Knowest what that means?\"\n\n\"A fish? Well, a fish,--yes, that's a fish.\"\n\n\"Thou art dull; though thou dost add so much water to the wine that thou\nmightst find a fish in it. This is a symbol which, in the language of\nphilosophers, means 'the smile of fortune.' If thou hadst divined it,\nthou too mightst have made a fortune. Honor philosophy, I tell thee,\nor I shall change my wine-shop,--an act to which Petronius, my personal\nfriend, has been urging me this long time.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIV\n\n\nFOR a number of days after the interview, Chilo did not show himself\nanywhere. Vinicius, since he had learned from Acte that Lygia loved him,\nwas a hundred times more eager to find her, and began himself to search.\nHe was unwilling, and also unable, to ask aid of Cæsar, who was in great\nfear because of the illness of the infant Augusta.\n\nSacrifices in the temples did not help, neither did prayers and\nofferings, nor the art of physicians, nor all the means of enchantment\nto which they turned finally. In a week the child died. Mourning fell\nupon the court and Rome. Cæsar, who at the birth of the infant was wild\nwith delight, was wild now from despair, and, confining himself in\nhis apartments, refused food for two days; and though the palace was\nswarming with senators and Augustians, who hastened with marks of sorrow\nand sympathy, he denied audience to every one. The senate assembled in\nan extraordinary session, at which the dead child was pronounced divine.\nIt was decided to rear to her a temple and appoint a special priest to\nher service. New sacrifices were offered in other temples in honor of\nthe deceased; statues of her were cast from precious metals; and her\nfuneral was one immense solemnity, during which the people wondered at\nthe unrestrained marks of grief which Cæsar exhibited; they wept\nwith him, stretched out their hands for gifts, and above all amused\nthemselves with the unparalleled spectacle.\n\nThat death alarmed Petronius. All knew in Rome that Poppæa ascribed it\nto enchantment. The physicians, who were thus enabled to explain the\nvanity of their efforts, supported her; the priests, whose sacrifices\nproved powerless, did the same, as well as the sorcerers, who were\ntrembling for their lives, and also the people. Petronius was glad now\nthat Lygia had fled; for he wished no evil to Aulus and Pomponia, and he\nwished good to himself and Vinicius; therefore when the cypress, set out\nbefore the Palatine as a sign of mourning, was removed, he went to the\nreception appointed for the senators and Augustians to learn how far\nNero had lent ear to reports of spells, and to neutralize results which\nmight come from his belief.\n\nKnowing Nero, he thought, too, that though he did not believe in charms,\nhe would feign belief, so as to magnify his own suffering, and take\nvengeance on some one, finally, to escape the suspicion that the gods\nhad begun to punish him for crimes. Petronius did not think that Cæsar\ncould love really and deeply even his own child; though he loved her\npassionately, he felt certain, however, that he would exaggerate his\nsuffering. He was not mistaken. Nero listened, with stony face and fixed\neyes, to the consolation offered by knights and senators. It was evident\nthat, even if he suffered, he was thinking of this: What impression\nwould his suffering make upon others? He was posing as a Niobe, and\ngiving an exhibition of parental sorrow, as an actor would give it on\nthe stage. He had not the power even then to endure in his silent and as\nit were petrified sorrow, for at moments he made a gesture as if to cast\nthe dust of the earth on his head, and at moments he groaned deeply; but\nseeing Petronius, he sprang up and cried in a tragic voice, so that all\npresent could hear him,--\"Eheu! And thou art guilty of her death! At thy\nadvice the evil spirit entered these walls,--the evil spirit which, with\none look, drew the life from her breast! Woe is me! Would that my eyes\nhad not seen the light of Helios! Woe is me! Eheu! eheu!\"\n\nAnd raising his voice still more, he passed into a despairing shout; but\nPetronius resolved at that moment to put everything on one cast of the\ndice; hence, stretching out his hand, he seized the silk kerchief which\nNero wore around his neck always, and, placing it on the mouth of the\nImperator, said solemnly,--\"Lord, Rome and the world are benumbed with\npain; but do thou preserve thy voice for us!\"\n\nThose present were amazed; Nero himself was amazed for a moment.\nPetronius alone was unmoved; he knew too well what he was doing. He\nremembered, besides, that Terpnos and Diodorus had a direct order to\nclose Cæsar's mouth whenever he raised his voice too much and exposed it\nto danger.\n\n\"O Cæsar!\" continued he, with the same seriousness and sorrow, \"we have\nsuffered an immeasurable loss; let even this treasure of consolation\nremain to us!\"\n\nNero's face quivered, and after a while tears came from his eyes. All\nat once he rested his hands on Petronius's shoulders, and, dropping his\nhead on his breast, began to repeat, amid sobs,\n\n\"Thou alone of all thought of this,--thou alone, O Petronius! thou\nalone!\"\n\nTigellinus grew yellow from envy; but Petronius continued,--\n\n\"Go to Antium! there she came to the world, there joy flowed in on\nthee, there solace will come to thee. Let the sea air freshen thy divine\nthroat; let thy breast breathe the salt dampness. We, thy devoted\nones, will follow thee everywhere; and when we assuage thy pain with\nfriendship, thou wilt comfort us with song.\n\n\"True!\" answered Nero, sadly, \"I will write a hymn in her honor, and\ncompose music for it.\"\n\n\"And then thou wilt find the warm sun in Baiæ.\"\n\n\"And afterward--forgetfulness in Greece.\"\n\n\"In the birthplace of poetry and song.\"\n\nAnd his stony, gloomy state of mind passed away gradually, as clouds\npass that are covering the sun; and then a conversation began which,\nthough full of sadness, yet was full of plans for the future,--touching\na journey, artistic exhibitions, and even the receptions required at the\npromised coming of Tiridates, King of Armenia. Tigellinus tried, it is\ntrue, to bring forward again the enchantment; but Petronius, sure now of\nvictory, took up the challenge directly.\n\n\"Tigellinus,\" said he, \"dost thou think that enchantments can injure the\ngods?\"\n\n\"Cæsar himself has mentioned them,\" answered the courtier.\n\n\"Pain was speaking, not Cæsar; but thou--what is thy opinion of the\nmatter?\"\n\n\"The gods are too mighty to be subject to charms.\"\n\n\"Then wouldst thou deny divinity to Cæsar and his family?\"\n\n\"Peractum est!\" muttered Eprius Marcellus, standing near, repeating\nthat shout which the people gave always when a gladiator in the arena\nreceived such a blow that he needed no other.\n\nTigellinus gnawed his own anger. Between him and Petronius there had\nlong existed a rivalry touching Nero. Tigellinus had this superiority,\nthat Nero acted with less ceremony, or rather with none whatever in\nhis presence; while thus far Petronius overcame Tigellinus at every\nencounter with wit and intellect.\n\nSo it happened now. Tigellinus was silent, and simply recorded in his\nmemory those senators and knights who, when Petronius withdrew to the\ndepth of the chamber, surrounded him straightway, supposing that after\nthis incident he would surely be Cæsar's first favorite.\n\nPetronius, on leaving the palace, betook himself to Vinicius, and\ndescribed his encounter with Cæsar and Tigellinus.\n\n\"Not only have I turned away danger,\" said he, \"from Aulus Plautius,\nPomponia, and us, but even from Lygia, whom they will not seek, even\nfor this reason, that I have persuaded Bronzebeard, the monkey, to go to\nAntium, and thence to Naples or Baiæ and he will go. I know that he has\nnot ventured yet to appear in the theatre publicly; I have known this\nlong time that he intends to do so at Naples. He is dreaming, moreover,\nof Greece, where he wants to sing in all the more prominent cities, and\nthen make a triumphal entry into Rome, with all the crowns which the\n'Græculi' will bestow on him. During that time we shall be able to\nseek Lygia unhindered and secrete her in safety. But has not our noble\nphilosopher been here yet?\"\n\n\"Thy noble philosopher is a cheat. No; he has not shown himself, and he\nwill not show himself again!\"\n\n\"But I have a better understanding, if not of his honesty, of his wit.\nHe has drawn blood once from thy purse, and will come even for this, to\ndraw it a second time.\"\n\n\"Let him beware lest I draw his own blood.\"\n\n\"Draw it not; have patience till thou art convinced surely of his\ndeceit. Do not give him more money, but promise a liberal reward if he\nbrings thee certain information. Wilt thou thyself undertake something?\"\n\n\"My two freedmen, Nymphidius and Demas, are searching for her with sixty\nmen. Freedom is promised the slave who finds her. Besides I have sent\nout special persons by all roads leading from Rome to inquire at every\ninn for the Lygian and the maiden. I course through the city myself day\nand night, counting on a chance meeting.\"\n\n\"Whenever thou hast tidings let me know, for I must go to Antium.\"\n\n\"I will do so.\"\n\n\"And if thou wake up some morning and say, 'It is not worth while to\ntorment myself for one girl, and take so much trouble because of her,'\ncome to Antium. There will be no lack of women there, or amusement.\"\n\nVinicius began to walk with quick steps. Petronius looked for some time\nat him, and said at last,--\"Tell me sincerely, not as a mad head, who\ntalks something into his brain and excites himself, but as a man of\njudgment who is answering a friend: Art thou concerned as much as ever\nabout this Lygia?\"\n\nVinicius stopped a moment, and looked at Petronius as if he had not\nseen him before; then he began to walk again. It was evident that he\nwas restraining an outburst. At last, from a feeling of helplessness,\nsorrow, anger, and invincible yearning, two tears gathered in his eyes,\nwhich spoke with greater power to Petronius than the most eloquent\nwords.\n\nThen, meditating for a moment, he said,--\"It is not Atlas who carries\nthe world on his shoulders, but woman; and sometimes she plays with it\nas with a ball.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Vinicius.\n\nAnd they began to take farewell of each other. But at that moment a\nslave announced that Chilo Chilonides was waiting in the antechamber,\nand begged to be admitted to the presence of the lord.\n\nVinicius gave command to admit him immediately, and Petronius\nsaid,--\"Ha! have I not told thee? By Hercules! keep thy calmness; or he\nwill command thee, not thou him.\"\n\n\"A greeting and honor to the noble tribune of the army, and to thee,\nlord,\" said Chilo, entering. \"May your happiness be equal to your fame,\nand may your fame course through the world from the pillars of Hercules\nto the boundaries of the Arsacidæ.\"\n\n\"A greeting, O lawgiver of virtue and wisdom,\" answered Petronius.\n\nBut Vinicius inquired with affected calmness, \"What dost thou bring?\"\n\n\"The first time I came I brought thee hope, O lord; at present, I bring\ncertainty that the maiden will be found.\"\n\n\"That means that thou hast not found her yet?\"\n\n\"Yes, lord; but I have found what that sign means which she made. I\nknow who the people are who rescued her, and I know the God among whose\nworshippers to seek her.\"\n\nVinicius wished to spring from the chair in which he was sitting;\nbut Petronius placed his hand on his shoulder, and turning to Chilo\nsaid,--\"Speak on!\"\n\n\"Art thou perfectly certain, lord, that she drew a fish on the sand?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" burst out Vinicius.\n\n\"Then she is a Christian and Christians carried her away.\" A moment of\nsilence followed.\n\n\"Listen, Chilo,\" said Petronius. \"My relative has predestined to thee\na considerable sum of money for finding the girl, but a no less\nconsiderable number of rods if thou deceive him. In the first case thou\nwilt purchase not one, but three scribes; in the second, the philosophy\nof all the seven sages, with the addition of thy own, will not suffice\nto get thee ointment.\"\n\n\"The maiden is a Christian, lord,\" cried the Greek.\n\n\"Stop, Chilo. Thou art not a dull man. We know that Junia and Calvia\nCrispinilla accused Pomponia Græcina of confessing the Christian\nsuperstition; but we know too, that a domestic court acquitted her.\nWouldst thou raise this again? Wouldst thou persuade us that Pomponia,\nand with her Lygia, could belong to the enemies of the human race, to\nthe poisoners of wells and fountains, to the worshippers of an ass's\nhead, to people who murder infants and give themselves up to the foulest\nlicense? Think, Chilo, if that thesis which thou art announcing to us\nwill not rebound as an antithesis on thy own back.\"\n\nChilo spread out his arms in sign that that was not his fault, and then\nsaid,--\"Lord, utter in Greek the following sentence: Jesus Christ, Son\nof God, Saviour.\" [Iesous Christos, Theou Uios, Soter.]\n\n\"Well, I have uttered it. What comes of that?\"\n\n\"Now take the first letters of each of those words and put them into one\nword.\"\n\n\"Fish!\" said Petronius with astonishment. [Ichthus, the Greek word for\n\"fish.\"]\n\n\"There, that is why fish has become the watchword of the Christians,\"\nanswered Chilo, proudly.\n\nA moment of silence followed. But there was something so striking in the\nconclusions of the Greek that the two friends could not guard themselves\nfrom amazement.\n\n\"Vinicius, art thou not mistaken?\" asked Petronius. \"Did Lygia really\ndraw a fish for thee?\"\n\n\"By all the infernal gods, one might go mad!\" cried the young man, with\nexcitement. \"If she had drawn a bird for me, I should have said a bird.\"\n\n\"Therefore she is a Christian,\" repeated Chilo.\n\n\"This signifies,\" said Petronius, \"that Pomponia and Lygia poison\nwells, murder children caught on the street, and give themselves up to\ndissoluteness! Folly! Thou, Vinicius, wert at their house for a time, I\nwas there a little while; but I know Pomponia and Aulus enough, I know\neven Lygia enough, to say monstrous and foolish! If a fish is the symbol\nof the Christians, which it is difficult really to deny, and if those\nwomen are Christians, then, by Proserpina! evidently Christians are not\nwhat we hold them to be.\"\n\n\"Thou speakest like Socrates, lord,\" answered Chilo. \"Who has ever\nexamined a Christian? Who has learned their religion? When I was\ntravelling three years ago from Naples hither to Rome (oh, why did I\nnot stay in Naples!), a man joined me, whose name was Glaucus, of whom\npeople said that he was a Christian; but in spite of that I convinced\nmyself that he was a good and virtuous man.\"\n\n\"Was it not from that virtuous man that thou hast learned now what the\nfish means?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, lord, on the way, at an inn, some one thrust a knife\ninto that honorable old man; and his wife and child were carried away\nby slave-dealers. I lost in their defence these two fingers; since, as\npeople say, there is no lack among Christians of miracles, I hope that\nthe fingers will grow out on my hand again.\"\n\n\"How is that? Hast thou become a Christian?\"\n\n\"Since yesterday, lord, since yesterday! The fish made me a Christian.\nBut see what a power there is in it. For some days I shall be the most\nzealous of the zealous, so that they may admit me to all their secrets;\nand when they admit me to their secrets, I shall know where the maiden\nis hiding. Perhaps then my Christianity will pay me better than my\nphilosophy. I have made a vow also to Mercury, that if he helps me to\nfind the maiden, I will sacrifice to him two heifers of the same size\nand color and will gild their horns.\"\n\n\"Then thy Christianity of yesterday and thy philosophy of long standing\npermit thee to believe in Mercury?\"\n\n\"I believe always in that in which I need to believe; that is my\nphilosophy, which ought to please Mercury. Unfortunately (ye know,\nworthy lords, what a suspicious god he is), he does not trust the\npromises even of blameless philosophers, and prefers the heifers in\nadvance; meanwhile this outlay is immense. Not every one is a Seneca,\nand I cannot afford the sacrifice; should the noble Vinicius, however,\nwish to give something, on account of that sum which he promised--\"\n\n\"Not an obolus, Chilo!\" said Petronius, \"not an obolus. The bounty\nof Vinicius will surpass thy expectations, but only when Lygia is\nfound,--that is, when thou shalt indicate to us her hiding-place.\nMercury must trust thee for the two heifers, though I am not astonished\nat him for not wishing to do so; in this I recognize his acuteness.\"\n\n\"Listen to me, worthy lords. The discovery which I have made is great;\nfor though I have not found the maiden yet, I have found the way in\nwhich I must seek her. Ye have sent freedmen and slaves throughout the\ncity and into the country; has any one given you a clew? No! I alone\nhave given one. I tell you more. Among your slaves there may be\nChristians, of whom ye have no knowledge, for this superstition has\nspread everywhere; and they, instead of aiding, will betray you. It is\nunfortunate that they see me here; do thou therefore, noble Petronius,\nenjoin silence on Eunice; and thou too, noble Vinicius, spread a report\nthat I sell thee an ointment which insures victory in the Circus to\nhorses rubbed with it. I alone will search for her, and single-handed I\nwill find the fugitives; and do ye trust in me, and know that whatever\nI receive in advance will be for me simply an encouragement, for I shall\nhope always for more, and shall feel the greater certainty that the\npromised reward will not fail me. Ah, it is true! As a philosopher I\ndespise money, though neither Seneca, nor even Musonius, nor Cornutus\ndespises it, though they have not lost fingers in any one's defence, and\nare able themselves to write and leave their names to posterity. But,\naside from the slave, whom I intend to buy, and besides Mercury, to whom\nI have promised the heifers,--and ye know how dear cattle have become in\nthese times,--the searching itself involves much outlay. Only listen\nto me patiently. Well, for the last few days my feet are wounded from\ncontinual walking. I have gone to wine-shops to talk with people, to\nbakeries, to butcher-shops, to dealers in olive oil, and to fishermen.\nI have run through every street and alley; I have been in the hiding\nplaces of fugitive slaves; I have lost money, nearly a hundred ases,\nin playing mora; I have been in laundries, in drying-sheds, in cheap\nkitchens; I have seen mule-drivers and carvers; I have seen people who\ncure bladder complaints and pull teeth; I have talked with dealers in\ndried figs; I have been at cemeteries; and do ye know why? This is why;\nso as to outline a fish everywhere, look people in the eyes, and hear\nwhat they would say of that sign. For a long time I was unable to learn\nanything, till at last I saw an old slave at a fountain. He was drawing\nwater with a bucket, and weeping. Approaching him, I asked the cause\nof his tears. When we had sat down on the steps of the fountain, he\nanswered that all his life he had been collecting sestertium after\nsestertium, to redeem his beloved son; but his master, a certain Pansa,\nwhen the money was delivered to him, took it, but kept the son in\nslavery. 'And so I am weeping,' said the old man, 'for though I repeat,\nLet the will of God be done, I, poor sinner, am not able to keep down my\ntears.' Then, as if penetrated by a forewarning, I moistened my finger\nin the water and drew a fish for him. To this he answered, 'My hope,\ntoo, is in Christ.' I asked him then, 'Hast thou confessed to me by that\nsign?' 'I have,' said he; 'and peace be with thee.' I began then to draw\nhim out, and the honest old man told me everything. His master, that\nPansa, is himself a freedman of the great Pansa; and he brings stones by\nthe Tiber to Rome, where slaves and hired persons unload them from\nthe boats, and carry them to buildings in the night time, so as not to\nobstruct movement in the streets during daylight. Among these people\nmany Christians work, and also his son; as the work is beyond his son's\nstrength, he wished to redeem him. But Pansa preferred to keep both the\nmoney and the slave. While telling me this, he began again to weep; and\nI mingled my tears with his,--tears came to me easily because of my kind\nheart, and the pain in my feet, which I got from walking excessively.\nI began also to lament that as I had come from Naples only a few days\nsince, I knew no one of the brotherhood, and did not know where they\nassembled for prayer. He wondered that Christians in Naples had not\ngiven me letters to their brethren in Rome; but I explained to him that\nthe letters were stolen from me on the road. Then he told me to come\nto the river at night, and he would acquaint me with brethren who would\nconduct me to houses of prayer and to elders who govern the Christian\ncommunity. When I heard this, I was so delighted that I gave him the\nsum needed to redeem his son, in the hope that the lordly Vinicius would\nreturn it to me twofold.\"\n\n\"Chilo,\" interrupted Petronius, \"in thy narrative falsehood appears on\nthe surface of truth, as oil does on water. Thou hast brought important\ninformation; I do not deny that. I assert, even, that a great step is\nmade toward finding Lygia; but do not cover thy news with falsehood.\nWhat is the name of that old man from whom thou hast learned that the\nChristians recognize each other through the sign of a fish?\"\n\n\"Euricius. A poor, unfortunate old man! He reminded me of Glaucus, whom\nI defended from murderers, and he touched me mainly by this.\"\n\n\"I believe that thou didst discover him, and wilt be able to make use of\nthe acquaintance; but thou hast given him no money. Thou hast not given\nhim an as; dost understand me? Thou hast not given anything.\"\n\n\"But I helped him to lift the bucket, and I spoke of his son with the\ngreatest sympathy. Yes, lord, what can hide before the penetration of\nPetronius? Well, I did not give him money, or rather, I gave it to him,\nbut only in spirit, in intention, which, had he been a real philosopher,\nshould have sufficed him. I gave it to him because I saw that such an\nact was indispensable and useful; for think, lord, how this act has won\nall the Christians at once to me, what access to them it has opened, and\nwhat confidence it has roused in them.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Petronius, \"and it was thy duty to do it.\"\n\n\"For this very reason I have come to get the means to do it.\"\n\nPetronius turned to Vinicius,--\"Give command to count out to him five\nthousand sestertia, but in spirit, in intention.\"\n\n\"I will give thee a young man,\" said Vinicius, \"who will take the sum\nnecessary; thou wilt say to Euricius that the youth is thy slave, and\nthou wilt count out to the old man, in the youth's presence, this money.\nSince thou hast brought important tidings, thou wilt receive the same\namount for thyself. Come for the youth and the money this evening.\"\n\n\"Thou art a real Cæsar!\" said Chilo. \"Permit me, lord, to dedicate my\nwork to thee; but permit also that this evening I come only for the\nmoney, since Euricius told me that all the boats had been unloaded, and\nthat new ones would come from Ostia only after some days. Peace be with\nyou! Thus do Christians take farewell of one another. I will buy myself\na slave woman,--that is, I wanted to say a slave man. Fish are caught\nwith a bait, and Christians with fish. Fax vobiscum! pax! pax! pax!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XV\n\nPETRONIUS to VINICIUS:\n\n\n\"I send to thee from Antium, by a trusty slave, this letter, to which,\nthough thy hand is more accustomed to the sword and the javelin than the\npen, I think that thou wilt answer through the same messenger without\nneedless delay. I left thee on a good trail, and full of hope; hence\nI trust that thou hast either satisfied thy pleasant desires in the\nembraces of Lygia, or wilt satisfy them before the real wintry wind from\nthe summits of Soracte shall blow on the Campania. Oh, my Vinicius! may\nthy preceptress be the golden goddess of Cyprus; be thou, on thy part,\nthe preceptor of that Lygian Aurora, who is fleeing before the sun of\nlove. And remember always that marble, though most precious, is nothing\nof itself, and acquires real value only when the sculptor's hand turns\nit into a masterpiece. Be thou such a sculptor, carissime! To love is\nnot sufficient; one must know how to love; one must know how to teach\nlove. Though the plebs, too, and even animals, experience pleasure, a\ngenuine man differs from them in this especially, that he makes love\nin some way a noble art, and, admiring it, knows all its divine value,\nmakes it present in his mind, thus satisfying not his body merely,\nbut his soul. More than once, when I think here of the emptiness, the\nuncertainty, the dreariness of life, it occurs to me that perhaps thou\nhast chosen better, and that not Cæsar's court, but war and love, are\nthe only objects for which it is worth while to be born and to live.\n\n\"Thou wert fortunate in war, be fortunate also in love; and if thou art\ncurious as to what men are doing at the court of Cæsar, I will inform\nthee from time to time. We are living here at Antium, and nursing our\nheavenly voice; we continue to cherish the same hatred of Rome, and\nthink of betaking ourselves to Baiæ for the winter, to appear in public\nat Naples, whose inhabitants, being Greeks, will appreciate us better\nthan that wolf brood on the banks of the Tiber. People will hasten\nthither from Baiæ, from Pompeii, Puteoli, Cumæ, and Stabia; neither\napplause nor crowns will be lacking, and that will be an encouragement\nfor the proposed expedition to Achæa.\n\n\"But the memory of the infant Augusta? Yes! we are bewailing her yet. We\nare singing hymns of our own composition, so wonderful that the sirens\nhave been hiding from envy in Amphitrite's deepest caves. But the\ndolphins would listen to us, were they not prevented by the sound of the\nsea. Our suffering is not allayed yet; hence we will exhibit it to the\nworld in every form which sculpture can employ, and observe carefully if\nwe are beautiful in our suffering and if people recognize this beauty.\nOh, my dear! we shall die buffoons and comedians!\n\n\"All the Augustians are here, male and female, not counting ten thousand\nservants, and five hundred she asses, in whose milk Poppæa bathes. At\ntimes even it is cheerful here. Calvia Crispinilla is growing old. It\nis said that she has begged Poppæa to let her take the bath immediately\nafter herself. Lucan slapped Nigidia on the face, because he suspected\nher of relations with a gladiator. Sporus lost his wife at dice to\nSenecio. Torquatus Silanus has offered me for Eunice four chestnut\nhorses, which this year will win the prize beyond doubt. I would not\naccept! Thanks to thee, also, that thou didst not take her. As to\nTorquatus Silanus, the poor man does not even suspect that he is already\nmore a shade than a man. His death is decided. And knowest what his\ncrime is? He is the great-grandson of the deified Augustus. There is no\nrescue for him. Such is our world.\n\n\"As is known to thee, we have been expecting Tiridates here; meanwhile\nVologeses has written an offensive letter. Because he has conquered\nArmenia, he asks that it be left to him for Tiridates; if not, he\nwill not yield it in any case. Pure comedy! So we have decided on war.\nCorbulo will receive power such as Pompeius Magnus received in the war\nwith pirates. There was a moment, however, when Nero hesitated. He seems\nafraid of the glory which Corbulo will win in case of victory. It was\neven thought to offer the chief command to our Aulus. This was opposed\nby Poppæa, for whom evidently Pomponia's virtue is as salt in the eye.\n\n\"Vatinius described to us a remarkable fight of gladiators, which is\nto take place in Beneventum. See to what cobblers rise in our time,\nin spite of the saying, 'Ne sutor ultra crepidam!' Vitelius is the\ndescendant of a cobbler; but Vatinius is the son of one! Perhaps he\ndrew thread himself! The actor Aliturus represented Oedipus yesterday\nwonderfully. I asked him, by the way, as a Jew, if Christians and Jews\nwere the same. He answered that the Jews have an eternal religion, but\nthat Christians are a new sect risen recently in Judea; that in the time\nof Tiberius the Jews crucified a certain man, whose adherents increase\ndaily, and that the Christians consider him as God. They refuse, it\nseems, to recognize other gods, ours especially. I cannot understand\nwhat harm it would do them to recognize these gods.\n\n\"Tigellinus shows me open enmity now. So far he is unequal to me; but\nhe is, superior in this, that he cares more for life, and is at the same\ntime a greater scoundrel, which brings him nearer Ahenobarbus. These two\nwill understand each other earlier or later, and then my turn will come.\nI know not when it will come; but I know this, that as things are it\nmust come; hence let time pass. Meanwhile we must amuse ourselves. Life\nof itself would not be bad were it not for Bronzebeard. Thanks to him,\na man at times is disgusted with himself. It is not correct to consider\nthe struggle for his favor as a kind of rivalry in a circus,--as a\nkind of game, as a struggle, in which victory flatters vanity. True, I\nexplain it to myself in that way frequently; but still it seems to me\nsometimes that I am like Chilo, and better in nothing than he. When he\nceases to be needful to thee, send him to me. I have taken a fancy to\nhis edifying conversation. A greeting from me to thy divine Christian,\nor rather beg her in my name not to be a fish to thee. Inform me of thy\nhealth, inform me of thy love, know how to love, teach how to love, and\nfarewell.\"\n\nVINICIUS to PETRONIUS:\n\n\"Lygia is not found yet! Were it not for the hope that I shall find her\nsoon, thou wouldst not receive an answer; for when a man is disgusted\nwith life, he has no wish to write letters. I wanted to learn whether\nChilo was not deceiving me; and at night when he came to get the money\nfor Euricius, I threw on a military mantle, and unobserved followed\nhim and the slave whom I sent with him. When they reached the place, I\nwatched from a distance, hidden behind a portico pillar, and convinced\nmyself that Euricius was not invented. Below, a number of tens of people\nwere unloading stones from a spacious barge, and piling them up on the\nbank. I saw Chilo approach them, and begin to talk with some old man,\nwho after a while fell at his feet. Others surrounded them with shouts\nof admiration. Before my eyes the boy gave a purse to Euricius, who on\nseizing it began to pray with upraised hands, while at his side some\nsecond person was kneeling, evidently his son. Chilo said something\nwhich I could not hear, and blessed the two who were kneeling, as well\nas others, making in the air signs in the form of a cross, which they\nhonor apparently, for all bent their knees. The desire seized me to go\namong them, and promise three such purses to him who would deliver to me\nLygia; but I feared to spoil Chilo's work, and after hesitating a moment\nwent home.\n\n\"This happened at least twelve days after thy departure. Since then\nChilo has been a number of times with me. He says that he has gained\ngreat significance among the Christians; that if he has not found Lygia\nso far, it is because the Christians in Rome are innumerable, hence all\nare not acquainted with each person in their community, and cannot know\neverything that is done in it. They are cautious, too, and in general\nreticent. He gives assurance, however, that when he reaches the elders,\nwho are called presbyters, he will learn every secret. He has made the\nacquaintance of a number of these already, and has begun to inquire of\nthem, though carefully, so as not to rouse suspicion by haste, and not\nto make the work still more difficult. Though it is hard to wait, though\npatience fails, I feel that he is right, and I wait.\n\n\"He learned, too, that they have places of meeting for prayer,\nfrequently outside the city, in empty houses and even in sand-pits.\nThere they worship Christ, sing hymns, and have feasts. There are many\nsuch places. Chilo supposes that Lygia goes purposely to different ones\nfrom Pomponia, so that the latter, in case of legal proceedings or an\nexamination, might swear boldly that she knew nothing of Lygia's hiding\nplace. It may be that the presbyters have advised caution. When Chilo\ndiscovers those places, I will go with him; and if the gods let me see\nLygia, I swear to thee by Jupiter that she will not escape my hands this\ntime.\n\n\"I am thinking continually of those places of prayer. Chilo is unwilling\nthat I should go with him; he is afraid. But I cannot stay at home. I\nshould know her at once, even in disguise or if veiled. They assemble in\nthe night, but I should recognize her in the night even. I should know\nher voice and motions anywhere. I will go myself in disguise, and look\nat every person who goes in or out. I am thinking of her always, and\nshall recognize her. Chilo is to come to-morrow, and we shall go. I\nwill take arms. Some of my slaves sent to the provinces have returned\nempty-handed. But I am certain now that she is in the city, perhaps\nnot far away even. I myself have visited many houses under pretext of\nrenting them. She will fare better with me a hundred times; where she\nis, whole legions of poor people dwell. Besides, I shall spare nothing\nfor her sake. Thou writest that I have chosen well. I have chosen\nsuffering and sorrow. We shall go first to those houses which are in\nthe city, then beyond the gates. Hope looks for something every morning,\notherwise life would be impossible. Thou sayest that one should know how\nto love. I knew how to talk of love to Lygia. But now I only yearn; I do\nnothing but wait for Chilo. Life to me is unendurable in my own house.\nFarewell!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XVI\n\n\nBUT Chilo did not appear for some time, and Vinicius knew not at last\nwhat to think of his absence. In vain he repeated to himself that\nsearching, if continued to a certain and successful issue, must be\ngradual. His blood and impulsive nature rebelled against the voice\nof judgment. To do nothing, to wait, to sit with folded arms, was so\nrepulsive to him that he could not be reconciled to it in any way. To\nsearch the alleys of the city in the dark garb of a slave, through this\nalone, that it was useless, seemed to him merely a mask for his own\ninefficiency, and could give no satisfaction. His freedmen, persons\nof experience, whom he commanded to search independently, turned out\na hundred times less expert than Chilo. Meanwhile there rose in him,\nbesides his love for Lygia, the stubbornness of a player resolved to\nwin. Vinicius had been always a person of this kind. From earliest youth\nhe had accomplished what he desired with the passionateness of one who\ndoes not understand failure, or the need of yielding something. For a\ntime military discipline had put his self-will within bounds, but also\nit had engrafted into him the conviction that every command of his to\nsubordinates must be fulfilled; his prolonged stay in the Orient, among\npeople pliant and inured to slavish obedience, confirmed in him the\nfaith that for his \"I wish\" there were no limits. At present his vanity,\ntoo, was wounded painfully. There was, besides, in Lygia's\nopposition and resistance, and in her flight itself, which was to him\nincomprehensible, a kind of riddle. In trying to solve this riddle he\nracked his head terribly. He felt that Acte had told the truth, and that\nLygia was not indifferent. But if this were true, why had she preferred\nwandering and misery to his love, his tenderness, and a residence in his\nsplendid mansion? To this question he found no answer, and arrived only\nat a kind of dim understanding that between him and Lygia, between their\nideas, between the world which belonged to him and Petronius, and the\nworld of Lygia and Pomponia, there existed some sort of difference, some\nkind of misunderstanding as deep as an abyss, which nothing could fill\nup or make even. It seemed to him, then, that he must lose Lygia; and\nat this thought he lost the remnant of balance which Petronius wished to\npreserve in him. There were moments in which he did not know whether he\nloved Lygia or hated her; he understood only that he must find her, and\nhe would rather that the earth swallowed her than that he should not see\nand possess her. By the power of imagination he saw her as clearly at\ntimes as if she had been before his face. He recalled every word which\nhe had spoken to her; every word which he had heard from her. He felt\nher near; felt her on his bosom, in his arms; and then desire embraced\nhim like a flame. He loved her and called to her.\n\nAnd when he thought that he was loved, that she might do with\nwillingness all that he wished of her, sore and endless sorrow seized\nhim, and a kind of deep tenderness flooded his heart, like a mighty\nwave. But there were moments, too, in which he grew pale from rage, and\ndelighted in thoughts of the humiliation and tortures which he would\ninflict on Lygia when he found her. He wanted not only to have her, but\nto have her as a trampled slave. At the same time he felt that if the\nchoice were left him, to be her slave or not to see her in life again,\nhe would rather be her slave. There were days in which he thought of the\nmarks which the lash would leave on her rosy body, and at the same time\nhe wanted to kiss those marks. It came to his head also that he would be\nhappy if he could kill her.\n\nIn this torture, torment, uncertainty, and suffering, he lost health,\nand even beauty. He became a cruel and incomprehensible master. His\nslaves, and even his freedmen, approached him with trembling; and when\npunishments fell on them causelessly,--punishments as merciless as\nundeserved,--they began to hate him in secret; while he, feeling this,\nand feeling his own isolation, took revenge all the more on them. He\nrestrained himself with Chilo alone, fearing lest he might cease his\nsearches; the Greek, noting this, began to gain control of him, and grew\nmore and more exacting. At first he assured Vinicius at each visit that\nthe affair would proceed easily and quickly; now he began to discover\ndifficulties, and without ceasing, it is true, to guarantee the\nundoubted success of the searches, he did not hide the fact that they\nmust continue yet for a good while.\n\nAt last he came, after long days of waiting, with a face so gloomy that\nthe young man grew pale at sight of him, and springing up had barely\nstrength to ask,--\"Is she not among the Christians?\" \"She is, lord,\"\nanswered Chilo; \"but I found Glaucus among them.\" \"Of what art thou\nspeaking, and who is Glaucus?\" \"Thou hast forgotten, lord, it seems,\nthat old man with whom I journeyed from Naples to Rome, and in whose\ndefence I lost these two fingers,--a loss which prevents me from\nwriting. Robbers, who bore away his wife and child, stabbed him with a\nknife. I left him dying at an inn in Minturna, and bewailed him long.\nAlas! I have convinced myself that he is alive yet, and belongs in Rome\nto the Christian community.\"\n\nVinicius, who could not understand what the question was, understood\nonly that Glaucus was becoming a hindrance to the discovery of Lygia;\nhence he suppressed his rising anger, and said,--\"If thou didst defend\nhim, he should be thankful and help thee.\"\n\n\"Ah! worthy tribune, even gods are not always grateful, and what must\nthe case be with men? True, he should be thankful. But, unhappily, he is\nan old man, of a mind weak and darkened by age and disappointment; for\nwhich reason, not only is he not grateful, but, as I learned from his\nco-religionists, he accuses me of having conspired with the robbers, and\nsays that I am the cause of his misfortunes. That is the recompense for\nmy fingers!\"\n\n\"Scoundrel! I am certain that it was as he says,\" replied Vinicius.\n\n\"Then thou knowest more than he does, lord, for he only surmises that\nit was so; which, however, would not prevent him from summoning the\nChristians, and from revenging himself on me cruelly. He would have done\nthat undoubtedly, and others, with equal certainty, would have helped\nhim; but fortunately he does not know my name, and in the house of\nprayer where we met, he did not notice me. I, however, knew him at once,\nand at the first moment wished to throw myself on his neck. Wisdom,\nhowever, and the habit of thinking before every step which I intend to\ntake, restrained me. Therefore, on issuing from the house of prayer, I\ninquired concerning him, and those who knew him declared that he was\nthe man who had been betrayed by his comrade on the journey from Naples.\nOtherwise I should not have known that he gives out such a story.\"\n\n\"How does this concern me? Tell what thou sawest in the house of\nprayer.\"\n\n\"It does not concern thee, lord, but it concerns me just as much as\nmy life. Since I wish that my wisdom should survive me, I would rather\nrenounce the reward which thou hast offered, than expose my life for\nempty lucre; without which, I as a true philosopher shall be able to\nlive and seek divine wisdom.\"\n\nBut Vinicius approached him with an ominous countenance, and began in a\nsuppressed voice,--\"Who told thee that death would meet thee sooner at\nthe hands of Glaucus than at mine? Whence knowest thou, dog, that I will\nnot have thee buried right away in my garden?\"\n\nChilo, who was a coward, looked at Vinicius, and in the twinkle of\nan eye understood that one more unguarded word and he was lost beyond\nredemption.\n\n\"I will search for her, lord, and I will find her!\" cried he, hurriedly.\n\nSilence followed, during which were heard the quick breathing of\nVinicius, and the distant song of slaves at work in the garden.\n\nOnly after a while did the Greek resume his speech, when he noticed that\nthe young patrician was somewhat pacified.\n\n\"Death passed me, but I looked on it with the calmness of Socrates. No,\nlord, I have not said that I refuse to search for the maiden; I desired\nmerely to tell thee that search for her is connected now with great\nperil to me. On a time thou didst doubt that there was a certain\nEuricius in the world, and though thou wert convinced by thine own eyes\nthat the son of my father told the truth to thee, thou hast suspicions\nnow that I have invented Glaucus. Ah! would that he were only a fiction,\nthat I might go among the Christians with perfect safety, as I went some\ntime since; I would give up for that the poor old slave woman whom\nI bought, three days since, to care for my advanced age and maimed\ncondition. But Glaucus is living, lord; and if he had seen me once,\nthou wouldst not have seen me again, and in that case who would find the\nmaiden?\"\n\nHere he was silent again, and began to dry his tears.\n\n\"But while Glaucus lives,\" continued he, \"how can I search for her?--for\nI may meet him at any step; and if I meet him I shall perish, and with\nme will cease all my searching.\"\n\n\"What art thou aiming at? What help is there? What dost thou wish to\nundertake?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"Aristotle teaches us, lord, that less things should be sacrificed for\ngreater, and King Priam said frequently that old age was a grievous\nburden. Indeed, the burden of old age and misfortune weighs upon Glaucus\nthis long time, and so heavily that death would be to him a benefit. For\nwhat is death, according to Seneca, but liberation?\"\n\n\"Play the fool with Petronius, not with me! Tell what thy desire is.\"\n\n\"If virtue is folly, may the gods permit me to be a fool all my life. I\ndesire, lord, to set aside Glaucus, for while he is living my life and\nsearches are in continual peril.\"\n\n\"Hire men to beat him to death with clubs; I will pay them.\"\n\n\"They will rob thee, lord, and afterward make profit of the secret.\nThere are as many ruffians in Rome as grains of sand in the arena, but\nthou wilt not believe how dear they are when an honest man needs to\nemploy their villainy. No, worthy tribune! But if watchmen catch the\nmurderers in the act? They would tell, beyond doubt, who hired them, and\nthen thou wouldst have trouble. They will not point to me, for I shall\nnot give my name. Thou art doing ill not to trust in me, for, setting\naside my keenness, remember that there is a question of two other\nthings,--of my life, and the reward which thou has promised me.\"\n\n\"How much dost thou need?\"\n\n\"A thousand sestertia, for turn attention to this, that I must find\nhonest ruffians, men who when they have received earnest money, will\nnot take it off without a trace. For good work there must be good pay!\nSomething might be added, too, for my sake, to wipe away the tears which\nI shall shed out of pity for Glaucus. I take the gods to witness how I\nlove him. If I receive a thousand sestertia to-day, two days hence his\nsoul will be in Hades; and then, if souls preserve memory and the gift\nof thought, he will know for the first time how I loved him. I will find\npeople this very day, and tell them that for each day of the life\nof Glaucus I will withhold one hundred sestertia. I have, besides, a\ncertain idea, which seems to me infallible.\"\n\nVinicius promised him once more the desired sum, forbidding him to\nmention Glaucus again; but asked what other news he brought, where he\nhad been all the time, what he had seen, and what he had discovered.\nBut Chilo was not able to tell much. He had been in two more houses of\nprayer,--had observed each person carefully, especially the women,--but\nhad seen no one who resembled Lygia: the Christians, however, looked\non him as one of their own sect, and, since he redeemed the son of\nEuricius, they honored him as a man following in the steps of \"Christ.\"\nHe had learned from them, also, that a great lawgiver of theirs, a\ncertain Paul of Tarsus, was in Rome, imprisoned because of charges\npreferred by the Jews, and with this man he had resolved to become\nacquainted. But most of all was he pleased by this,--that the supreme\npriest of the whole sect, who had been Christ's disciple, and to whom\nChrist had confided government over the whole world of Christians, might\narrive in Rome any moment. All the Christians desired evidently to see\nhim, and hear his teachings. Some great meetings would follow, at which\nhe, Chilo, would be present; and what is more, since it is easy to hide\nin the crowd, he would take Vinicius to those meetings. Then they would\nfind Lygia certainly. If Glaucus were once set aside, it would not be\nconnected even with great danger. As to revenge, the Christians, too,\nwould revenge but in general they were peaceful people.\n\nHere Chilo began to relate, with a certain surprise, that he had never\nseen that they gave themselves up to debauchery, that they poisoned\nwells or fountains, that they were enemies of the human race, worshipped\nan ass, or ate the flesh of children. No; he had seen nothing of that\nsort. Certainly he would find among them even people who would hide away\nGlaucus for money; but their religion, as far as he knew, did not incite\nto crime,--on the contrary, it enjoined forgiveness of offences.\n\nVinicius remembered what Pomponia had said to him at Acte's, and in\ngeneral he listened to Chilo's words with pleasure. Though his feeling\nfor Lygia assumed at times the seeming of hatred, he felt a relief when\nhe heard that the religion which she and Pomponia confessed was neither\ncriminal nor repulsive. But a species of undefined feeling rose in him\nthat it was just that reverence for Christ, unknown and mysterious,\nwhich created the difference between himself and Lygia; hence he began\nat once to fear that religion and to hate it.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XVII\n\n\nFOR Chilo, it was really important to set aside Glaucus, who, though\nadvanced in years, was by no means decrepit. There was considerable\ntruth in what Chilo had narrated to Vinicius. He had known Glaucus on a\ntime, he had betrayed him, sold him to robbers, deprived him of family,\nof property, and delivered him to murder. But he bore the memory of\nthese events easily, for he had thrown the man aside dying, not at an\ninn, but in a field near Minturna. This one thing he had not foreseen,\nthat Glaucus would be cured of his wounds and come to Rome. When he saw\nhim, therefore, in the house of prayer, he was in truth terrified, and\nat the first moment wished to discontinue the search for Lygia. But on\nthe other hand, Vinicius terrified him still more. He understood that he\nmust choose between the fear of Glaucus, and the pursuit and vengeance\nof a powerful patrician, to whose aid would come, beyond doubt, another\nand still greater, Petronius. In view of this, Chilo ceased to hesitate.\nHe thought it better to have small enemies than great ones, and, though\nhis cowardly nature trembled somewhat at bloody methods, he saw the need\nof killing Glaucus through the aid of other hands.\n\nAt present the only question with him was the choice of people, and\nto this he was turning that thought of which he had made mention to\nVinicius. Spending his nights in wine-shops most frequently, and lodging\nin them, among men without a roof, without faith or honor, he could find\npersons easily to undertake any task, and still more easily others\nwho, if they sniffed coin on his person, would begin, but when they had\nreceived earnest money, would extort the whole sum by threatening to\ndeliver him to justice. Besides, for a certain time past Chilo had felt\na repulsion for nakedness, for those disgusting and terrible figures\nlurking about suspected houses in the Subura or in the Trans-Tiber.\nMeasuring everything with his own measure, and not having fathomed\nsufficiently the Christians or their religion, he judged that among\nthem, too, he could find willing tools. Since they seemed more reliable\nthan others, he resolved to turn to them and present the affair in such\nfashion that they would undertake it, not for money's sake merely, but\nthrough devotion.\n\nIn view of this, he went in the evening to Euricius, whom he knew as\ndevoted with whole soul to his person, and who, he was sure, would do\nall in his power to assist him. Naturally cautious, Chilo did not\neven dream of revealing his real intentions, which would be in clear\nopposition, moreover, to the faith which the old man had in his piety\nand virtue. He wished to find people who were ready for anything, and to\ntalk with them of the affair only in such a way that, out of regard to\nthemselves, they would guard it as an eternal secret.\n\nThe old man Euricius, after the redemption of his son, hired one of\nthose little shops so numerous near the Circus Maximus, in which were\nsold olives, beans, unleavened paste, and water sweetened with honey, to\nspectators coming to the Circus. Chilo found him at home arranging his\nshop; and when he had greeted him in Christ's name, he began to speak of\nthe affair which had brought him. Since he had rendered them a service,\nhe considered that they would pay him with gratitude. He needed two or\nthree strong and courageous men, to ward off danger threatening not only\nhim, but all Christians. He was poor, it was true, since he had given to\nEuricius almost all that he owned; still he would pay such men for\ntheir services if they would trust him and perform faithfully what he\ncommanded.\n\nEuricius and his son Quartus listened to him as their benefactor almost\non their knees. Both declared that they were ready themselves to do all\nthat he asked of them, believing that a man so holy could not ask for\ndeeds inconsistent with the teaching of Christ.\n\nChilo assured them that that was true, and, raising his eyes to heaven,\nhe seemed to be praying; in fact, he was thinking whether it would\nnot be well to accept their proposal, which might save him a thousand\nsestertia. But after a moment of thought he rejected it. Euricius was an\nold man, perhaps not so much weighted by years as weakened by care and\ndisease. Quartus was sixteen years of age. Chilo needed dexterous, and,\nabove all, stalwart men. As to the thousand sestertia, he considered\nthat--thanks to the plan which he had invented--he would be able in\nevery case to spare a large part of it.\n\nThey insisted for some time, but when he refused decisively they\nyielded.\n\n\"I know the baker Demas,\" said Quartus, \"in whose mills slaves and hired\nmen are employed. One of those hired men is so strong that he would take\nthe place, not of two, but of four. I myself have seen him lift stones\nfrom the ground which four men could not stir.\"\n\n\"If that is a God-fearing man, who can sacrifice himself for the\nbrotherhood, make me acquainted with him,\" said Chilo.\n\n\"He is a Christian, lord,\" answered Quartus; \"nearly all who work for\nDemas are Christians. He has night as well as day laborers; this man\nis of the night laborers. Were we to go now to the mill, we should find\nthem at supper, and thou mightest speak to him freely. Demas lives near\nthe Emporium.\"\n\nChilo consented most willingly. The Emporium was at the foot of the\nAventine, hence not very far from the Circus Maximus. It was possible,\nwithout going around the hill, to pass along the river through the\nPorticus Æmilia, which would shorten the road considerably.\n\n\"I am old,\" said Chilo, when they went under the Colonnade; \"at times I\nsuffer effacement of memory. Yes, though our Christ was betrayed by\none of his disciples, the name of the traitor I cannot recall at this\nmoment--\"\n\n\"Judas, lord, who hanged himself,\" answered Quartus, wondering a little\nin his soul how it was possible to forget that name.\n\n\"Oh, yes--Judas! I thank thee,\" said Chilo.\n\nAnd they went on some time in silence. When they came to the Emporium,\nwhich was closed, they passed it, and going around the storehouse, from\nwhich grain was distributed to the populace, they turned toward the\nleft, to houses which stretched along the Via Ostiensis, up to the Mons\nTestaceus and the Forum Pistorium. There they halted before a wooden\nbuilding, from the interior of which came the noise of millstones.\nQuartus went in; but Chilo, who did not like to show himself to large\nnumbers of people, and was in continual dread that some fate might bring\nhim to meet Glaucus, remained outside.\n\n\"I am curious about that Hercules who serves in a mill,\" said he to\nhimself, looking at the brightly shining moon. \"If he is a scoundrel and\na wise man, he will cost me something; if a virtuous Christian and dull,\nhe will do what I want without money.\"\n\nFurther meditation was interrupted by the return of Quartus, who\nissued from the building with a second man, wearing only a tunic called\n\"exomis,\" cut in such fashion that the right arm and right breast were\nexposed. Such garments, since they left perfect freedom of movement,\nwere used especially by laborers. Chilo, when he saw the man coming,\ndrew a breath of satisfaction, for he had not seen in his life such an\narm and such a breast.\n\n\"Here, lord,\" said Quartus, \"is the brother whom it was thy wish to\nsee.\"\n\n\"May the peace of Christ be with thee!\" answered Chilo. \"Do thou,\nQuartus, tell this brother whether I deserve faith and trust, and then\nreturn in the name of God; for there is no need that thy gray-haired\nfather should be left in loneliness.\"\n\n\"This is a holy man,\" said Quartus, \"who gave all his property to redeem\nme from slavery,--me, a man unknown to him. May our Lord the Saviour\nprepare him a heavenly reward therefor!\"\n\nThe gigantic laborer, hearing this, bent down and kissed Chilo's hand.\n\n\"What is thy name, brother?\" inquired the Greek.\n\n\"At holy baptism, father, the name Urban was given me.\"\n\n\"Urban, my brother, hast thou time to talk with me freely?\"\n\n\"Our work begins at midnight, and only now are they preparing our\nsupper.\"\n\n\"Then there is time sufficient. Let us go to the river; there thou wilt\nhear my words.\"\n\nThey went, and sat on the embankment, in a silence broken only by the\ndistant sound of the millstones and the plash of the onflowing river.\nChilo looked into the face of the laborer, which, notwithstanding\na somewhat severe and sad expression, such as was usual on faces of\nbarbarians living in Rome, seemed to him kind and honest.\n\n\"This is a good-natured, dull man who will kill Glaucus for nothing,\"\nthought Chilo.\n\n\"Urban,\" inquired he then, \"dost thou love Christ?\"\n\n\"I love him from the soul of my heart,\" said the laborer.\n\n\"And thy brethren and sisters, and those who taught thee truth and faith\nin Christ?\"\n\n\"I love them, too, father.\"\n\n\"Then may peace be with thee!\"\n\n\"And with thee, father!\"\n\nAgain silence set in, but in the distance the millstones were roaring,\nand the river was plashing below the two men.\n\nChilo looked with fixed gaze into the clear moonlight, and with a slow,\nrestrained voice began to speak of Christ's death. He seemed not as\nspeaking to Urban, but as if recalling to himself that death, or some\nsecret which he was confiding to the drowsy city. There was in this,\ntoo, something touching as well as impressive. The laborer wept;\nand when Chilo began to groan and complain that in the moment of\nthe Saviour's passion there was no one to defend him, if not from\ncrucifixion, at least from the insults of Jews and soldiers, the\ngigantic fists of the barbarian began to squeeze from pity and\nsuppressed rage. The death only moved him; but at thought of that\nrabble reviling the Lamb nailed to the cross, the simple soul in him was\nindignant, and a wild desire of vengeance seized the man.\n\n\"Urban, dost thou know who Judas was?\" asked Chilo, suddenly.\n\n\"I know, I know!--but he hanged himself!\" exclaimed the laborer.\n\nAnd in his voice there was a kind of sorrow that the traitor had meted\nout punishment to himself, and that Judas could not fall into his hands.\n\n\"But if he had not hanged himself,\" continued Chilo, \"and if some\nChristian were to meet him on land or on sea, would it not be the duty\nof that Christian to take revenge for the torment, the blood, and the\ndeath of the Saviour?\"\n\n\"Who is there who would not take revenge, father?\"\n\n\"Peace be with thee, faithful servant of the Lamb! True, it is permitted\nto forgive wrongs done ourselves; but who has the right to forgive\na wrong done to God? But as a serpent engenders a serpent, as malice\nbreeds malice, and treason breeds treason, so from the poison of Judas\nanother traitor has come; and as that one delivered to Jews and Roman\nsoldiers the Saviour, so this man who lives among us intends to give\nChrist's sheep to the wolves; and if no one will anticipate the treason,\nif no one will crush the head of the serpent in time, destruction is\nwaiting for us all, and with us will perish the honor of the Lamb.\"\n\nThe laborer looked at Chilo with immense alarm, as if not understanding\nwhat he had heard. But the Greek, covering his head with a corner of\nhis mantle, began to repeat, with a voice coming as if from beneath the\nearth,--\"Woe to you, servants of the true God! woe to you, Christian men\nand Christian women!\"\n\nAnd again came silence, again were heard only the roar of the\nmillstones, the deep song of the millers, and the sound of the river.\n\n\"Father,\" asked the laborer at last, \"what kind of traitor is that?\"\n\nChilo dropped his head. \"What kind of traitor? A son of Judas, a son of\nhis poison, a man who pretends to be a Christian, and goes to houses\nof prayer only to complain of the brotherhood to Cæsar,--declaring that\nthey will not recognize Cæsar as a god; that they poison fountains,\nmurder children, and wish to destroy the city, so that one stone may not\nremain on another. Behold! in a few days a command will be given to the\npretorians to cast old men, women, and children into prison, and\nlead them to death, just as they led to death the slaves of Pedanius\nSecundus. All this has been done by that second Judas. But if no one\npunished the first Judas, if no one took vengeance on him, if no one\ndefended Christ in the hour of torment, who will punish this one, who\nwill destroy the serpent before Cæsar hears him, who will destroy him,\nwho will defend from destruction our brothers in the faith of Christ?\"\n\nUrban, who had been sitting thus far on a stone, stood up on a sudden,\nand said,--\"I will, father.\"\n\nChilo rose also; he looked for a while on the face of the laborer,\nlighted up by the shining of the moon, then, stretching his arm, he put\nhis hand slowly on his head.\n\n\"Go among Christians,\" said he, with solemnity; \"go to the houses of\nprayer, and ask the brethren about Glaucus; and when they show him to\nthee, slay him at once in Christ's name!\"\n\n\"About Glaucus?\" repeated the laborer, as if wishing to fix that name in\nhis memory.\n\n\"Dost thou know him?\"\n\n\"No, I do not. There are thousands of Christians in Rome, and they are\nnot all known to one another. But to-morrow, in Ostrianum, brethren and\nsisters will assemble in the night to the last soul, because a great\napostle of Christ has come, who will teach them, and the brethren will\npoint out to me Glaucus.\"\n\n\"In Ostrianum?\" inquired Chilo. \"But that is outside the city gates!\nThe brethren and all the sisters,--at night? Outside the city gates, in\nOstrianum?\"\n\n\"Yes, father; that is our cemetery, between the Viæ Salaria and\nNomentana. Is it not known to thee that the Great Apostle will teach\nthere?\"\n\n\"I have been two days from home, hence I did not receive his epistle;\nand I do not know where Ostrianum is, for I came here not long since\nfrom Corinth, where I govern a Christian community. But it is as thou\nsayest,--there thou wilt find Glaucus among the brethren, and thou wilt\nslay him on the way home to the city. For this all thy sins will be\nforgiven. And now peace be with thee--\"\n\n\"Father--\"\n\n\"I listen to thee, servant of the Lamb.\"\n\nOn the laborer's face perplexity was evident. Not long before he had\nkilled a man, and perhaps two, but the teaching of Christ forbids\nkilling. He had not killed them in his own defence, for even that is\nnot permitted. He had not killed them, Christ preserve! for profit. The\nbishop himself had given him brethren to assist, but had not permitted\nhim to kill; he had killed inadvertently, for God had punished him with\ntoo much strength. And now he was doing grievous penance. Others sing\nwhen the millstones are grinding; but he, hapless man, is thinking of\nhis sin, of his offence against the Lamb. How much has he prayed already\nand wept? How much has he implored the Lamb? And he feels that he has\nnot done penance enough yet! But now he has promised again to kill a\ntraitor,--and done well! He is permitted to pardon only offences against\nhimself; hence he will kill Glaucus, even before the eyes of all\nthe brethren and sisters, in Ostrianum to-morrow. But let Glaucus be\ncondemned previously by the elders among the brethren, by the bishop, or\nby the Apostle. To kill is not a great thing; to kill a traitor is even\nas pleasant as to kill a bear or a wolf. But suppose Glaucus to perish\ninnocently? How take on his conscience a new murder, a new sin, a new\noffence against the Lamb?\n\n\"There is no time for a trial, my son,\" said Chilo. \"The traitor will\nhurry from Ostrianum straightway to Cæsar in Antium, or hide in the\nhouse of a certain patrician whom he is serving. I will give thee a\nsign; if thou show it after the death of Glaucus, the bishop and the\nGreat Apostle will bless thy deed.\"\n\nSaying this, he took out a small coin, and began to search for a\nknife at his belt; having found it, he scratched with the point on the\nsestertium the sign of the cross; this coin he gave to the laborer.\n\n\"Here is the sentence of Glaucus, and a sign for thee. If thou show\nthis to the bishop after the death of Glaucus, he will forgive thee the\nkilling which thou hast done without wishing it.\"\n\nThe laborer stretched out his hand involuntarily for the coin; but\nhaving the first murder too freshly in his memory just then, he\nexperienced a feeling of terror.\n\n\"Father,\" said he with a voice almost of entreaty, \"dost thou take this\ndeed on thy conscience, and hast thou thyself heard Glaucus betraying\nhis brethren?\"\n\nChilo understood that he must give proofs, mention names, otherwise\ndoubt might creep into the heart of the giant. All at once a happy\nthought flashed through his head.\n\n\"Listen, Urban,\" said he, \"I dwell in Corinth, but I came from Kos;\nand here in Rome I instruct in the religion of Christ a certain serving\nmaiden named Eunice. She serves as vestiplica in the house of a friend\nof Cæsar, a certain Petronius. In that house I have heard how Glaucus\nhas undertaken to betray all the Christians; and, besides, he has\npromised another informer of Cæsar's, Vinicius, to find a certain maiden\nfor him among the Christians.\"\n\nHere he stopped and looked with amazement at the laborer, whose eyes\nblazed suddenly like the eyes of a wild beast, and his face took on an\nexpression of mad rage and threat.\n\n\"What is the matter with thee?\" asked Chilo, almost in fear.\n\n\"Nothing, father; to-morrow I will kill Glaucus.\"\n\nThe Greek was silent. After a while he took the arm of the laborer,\nturned him so that the light of the moon struck his face squarely, and\nexamined him with care. It was evident that he was wavering in spirit\nwhether to inquire further and bring everything out with clearness, or\nfor that time to stop with what he had learned or surmised.\n\nAt last, however, his innate caution prevailed. He breathed deeply once\nand a second time; then, placing his hand on the laborer's head again,\nhe asked, in an emphatic and solemn voice,--\"But in holy baptism the\nname Urban was given thee?\"\n\n\"It was, father.\"\n\n\"Then peace be with thee, Urban!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XVIII\n\nPETRONIUS to VINICIUS:\n\n\n\"Thy case is a bad one, carissime. It is clear that Venus has disturbed\nthy mind, deprived thee of reason and memory, as well as the power to\nthink of aught else except love. Read some time thy answer to my letter,\nand thou wilt see how indifferent thy mind is to all except Lygia; how\nexclusively it is occupied with her, how it returns to her always, and\ncircles above her, as a falcon above chosen prey. By Pollux! find her\nquickly, or that of thee which fire has not turned into ashes will\nbecome an Egyptian sphinx, which, enamored, as 'tis said, of pale Isis,\ngrew deaf and indifferent to all things, waiting only for night, so as\nto gaze with stony eyes at the loved one.\n\n\"Run disguised through the city in the evening, even honor Christian\nhouses of prayer in thy philosopher's company. Whatever excites hope\nand kills time is praiseworthy. But for my friendship's sake do this one\nthing: Ursus, Lygia's slave, is a man of uncommon strength very likely;\nhire Croton, and go out three together; that will be safer and wiser.\nThe Christians, since Pomponia and Lygia belong to them, are surely not\nsuch scoundrels as most people imagine. But when a lamb of their flock\nis in question they are no triflers, as they have shown by carrying away\nLygia. When thou seest Lygia thou wilt not restrain thyself, I am\nsure, and wilt try to bear her away on the spot. But how wilt thou and\nChilonides do it? Croton would take care of himself, even though ten\nlike Ursus defended the maiden. Be not plundered by Chilo, but be not\nsparing of money on Croton. Of all counsels which I can give this is the\nbest one.\n\n\"Here they have ceased to speak of the infant Augusta, or to say that\nshe perished through witchcraft. Poppæa mentions her at times yet; but\nCæsar's mind is stuffed with something else. Moreover, if it be true\nthat the divine Augusta is in a changed state again, the memory of that\nchild will be blown away without trace. We have been in Naples for some\ndays, or rather in Baiæ. If thou art capable of any thought, echoes of\nour life must strike thy ear, for surely Rome talks of naught else. We\nwent directly to Baiæ, where at first memories of the mother attacked\nus, and reproaches of conscience. But dost thou know to what Ahenobarbus\nhas gone already? To this, that for him even the murder of his mother is\na mere theme for verses, and a reason for buffoonish tragic scenes.\n\n\"Formerly he felt real reproaches only in so far as he was a coward;\nnow, when he is convinced that the earth is under his feet as before,\nand that no god is taking vengeance, he feigns them only to move people\nby his fate. He springs up at night sometimes declaring that the Furies\nare hunting him; he rouses us, looks around, assumes the posture of an\nactor playing the role of Orestes, and the posture of a bad actor too;\nhe declaims Greek verses, and looks to see if we are admiring him. We\nadmire him apparently; and instead of saying to him, Go to sleep, thou\nbuffoon! we bring ourselves also to the tone of tragedy, and protect the\ngreat artist from the Furies. By Castor! this news at least must have\nreached thee, that he has appeared in public at Naples. They drove in\nfrom the city and the surrounding towns all the Greek ruffians, who\nfilled the arena with such a vile odor of sweat and garlic that I thank\nthe gods that, instead of sitting in the first rows with the Augustians,\nI was behind the scenes with Ahenobarbus. And wilt thou believe it, he\nwas afraid really! He took my hand and put it to his heart, which was\nbeating with increased pulsation; his breath was short; and at the\nmoment when he had to appear he grew as pale as a parchment, and his\nforehead was covered with drops of sweat. Still he saw that in every row\nof seats were pretorians, armed with clubs, to rouse enthusiasm if the\nneed came. But there was no need. No herd of monkeys from the environs\nof Carthage could howl as did this rabble. I tell thee that the smell of\ngarlic came to the stage; but Nero bowed, pressed his hand to his heart,\nsent kisses from his lips, and shed tears. Then he rushed in among us,\nwho were waiting behind the scenes, like a drunken man, crying, 'What\nwere the triumphs of Julius compared with this triumph of mine?' But the\nrabble was howling yet and applauding, knowing that it would applaud to\nitself favors, gifts, banquets, lottery tickets, and a fresh exhibition\nby the Imperial buffoon. I do not wonder that they applauded, for such a\nsight had not been seen till that evening. And every moment he repeated:\n'See what the Greeks are! see what the Greeks are!' From that evening\nit has seemed to me that his hatred for Rome is increasing. Meanwhile\nspecial couriers were hurried to Rome announcing the triumph, and we\nexpect thanks from the Senate one of these days. Immediately after\nNero's first exhibition, a strange event happened here. The theatre fell\nin on a sudden, but just after the audience had gone. I was there, and\ndid not see even one corpse taken from the ruins. Many, even among the\nGreeks, see in this event the anger of the gods, because the dignity of\nCæsar was disgraced; he, on the contrary, finds in it favor of the\ngods, who have his song, and those who listen to it, under their evident\nprotection. Hence there are offerings in all the temples, and great\nthanks. For Nero it is a great encouragement to make the journey to\nAchæa. A few days since he told me, however, that he had doubts as to\nwhat the Roman people might say; that they might revolt out of love for\nhim, and fear touching the distribution of grain and touching the games,\nwhich might fail them in case of his prolonged absence.\n\n\"We are going, however, to Beneventum to look at the cobbler\nmagnificence which Vatinius will exhibit, and thence to Greece, under\nthe protection of the divine brothers of Helen. As to me, I have noted\none thing, that when a man is among the mad he grows mad himself,\nand, what is more, finds a certain charm in mad pranks. Greece and the\njourney in a thousand ships; a kind of triumphal advance of Bacchus\namong nymphs and bacchantes crowned with myrtle, vine, and honeysuckle;\nthere will be women in tiger skins harnessed to chariots; flowers,\nthyrses, garlands, shouts of 'Evoe!' music, poetry, and applauding\nHellas. All this is well; but we cherish besides more daring projects.\nWe wish to create a species of Oriental Imperium,--an empire of\npalm-trees, sunshine, poetry, and reality turned into a dream, reality\nturned into the delight of life only. We want to forget Rome; to fix the\nbalancing point of the world somewhere between Greece, Asia, and Egypt;\nto live the life not of men but of gods; not to know what commonness is;\nto wander in golden galleys under the shadow of purple sails along the\nArchipelago; to be Apollo, Osiris, and Baal in one person; to be rosy\nwith the dawn, golden with the sun, silver with the moon; to command,\nto sing, to dream. And wilt thou believe that I, who have still sound\njudgment to the value of a sestertium, and sense to the value of an\nas, let myself be borne away by these fantasies, and I do this for the\nreason that, if they are not possible, they are at least grandiose and\nuncommon? Such a fabulous empire would be a thing which, some time or\nother, after long ages, would seem a dream to mankind. Except when\nVenus takes the form of Lygia, or even of a slave Eunice, or when art\nbeautifies it, life itself is empty, and many a time it has the face\nof a monkey. But Bronzebeard will not realize his plans, even for this\ncause, that in his fabulous kingdom of poetry and the Orient no place is\ngiven to treason, meanness, and death; and that in him with the poses\nof a poet sits a wretched comedian, a dull charioteer, and a frivolous\ntyrant. Meanwhile we are killing people whenever they displease us in\nany way. Poor Torquatus Silanus is now a shade; he opened his veins a\nfew days since. Lecanius and Licinus will enter on the consulate with\nterror. Old Thrasea will not escape death, for he dares to be honest.\nTigellinus is not able yet to frame a command for me to open my veins.\nI am still needed not only as elegantiæ arbiter, but as a man without\nwhose counsel and taste the expedition to Achæa might fail. More than\nonce, however, I think that sooner or later it must end in opening my\nveins; and knowest thou what the question will be then with me?--that\nBronzebeard should not get my goblet, which thou knowest and admirest.\nShouldst thou be near at the moment of my death, I will give it to thee;\nshouldst thou be at a distance, I will break it. But meanwhile I have\nbefore me yet Beneventum of the cobblers and Olympian Greece; I have\nFate too, which, unknown and unforeseen, points out the road to every\none.\n\n\"Be well, and engage Croton; otherwise they will snatch Lygia from thee\na second time. When Chilonides ceases to be needful, send him to me\nwherever I may be. Perhaps I shall make him a second Vatinius, and\nconsuls and senators may tremble before him yet, as they trembled before\nthat knight Dratevka. It would be worth while to live to see such a\nspectacle. When thou hast found Lygia, let me know, so that I may offer\nfor you both a pair of swans and a pair of doves in the round temple of\nVenus here. Once I saw Lygia in a dream, sitting on thy knee, seeking\nthy kisses. Try to make that dream prophetic. May there be no clouds on\nthy sky; or if there be, let them have the color and the odor of roses!\nBe in good health; and farewell!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIX\n\n\nBARELY had Vinicius finished reading when Chilo pushed quietly into his\nlibrary, unannounced by any one, for the servants had the order to admit\nhim at every hour of the day or night.\n\n\"May the divine mother of thy magnanimous ancestor Æneas be full of\nfavor to thee, as the son of Maia was kind to me.\"\n\n\"What dost thou mean?\" asked Vinicius, springing from the table at which\nhe was sitting.\n\nChilo raised his head and said, \"Eureka!\"\n\nThe young patrician was so excited that for a long time he could not\nutter a word.\n\n\"Hast thou seen her?\" asked he, at last.\n\n\"I have seen Ursus, lord, and have spoken with him.\"\n\n\"Dost thou know where they are secreted?\"\n\n\"No, lord. Another, through boastfulness, would have let the Lygian know\nthat he divined who he was; another would have tried to extort from him\nthe knowledge of where he lived, and would have received either a\nstroke of the fist,--after which all earthly affairs would have become\nindifferent to him,--or he would have roused the suspicion of the giant\nand caused this,--that a new hiding-place would be found for the girl,\nthis very night perhaps. I did not act thus. It suffices me to know that\nUrsus works near the Emporium, for a miller named Demas, the same name\nas that borne by thy freedman; now any trusted slave of thine may go in\nthe morning on his track, and discover their hiding place. I bring thee\nmerely the assurance that, since Ursus is here, the divine Lygia also\nis in Rome, and a second news that she will be in Ostrianum to-night,\nalmost certainly--\"\n\n\"In Ostrianum? Where is that?\" interrupted Vinicius, wishing evidently\nto run to the place indicated.\n\n\"An old hypogeum between the Viæ Salaria and Nomentana. That pontifex\nmaximus of the Christians, of whom I spoke to thee, and whom they\nexpected somewhat later, has come, and to-night he will teach and\nbaptize in that cemetery. They hide their religion, for, though there\nare no edicts to prohibit it as yet, the people hate them, so they must\nbe careful. Ursus himself told me that all, to the last soul, would be\nin Ostrianum to-night, for every one wishes to see and hear him who was\nthe foremost disciple of Christ, and whom they call Apostle. Since among\nthem women hear instruction as well as men, Pomponia alone perhaps of\nwomen will not be there; she could not explain to Aulus, a worshipper of\nthe ancient gods, her absence from home at night. But Lygia, lord, who\nis under the care of Ursus and the Christian elders, will go undoubtedly\nwith other women.\"\n\nVinicius, who had lived hitherto in a fever, and upheld as it were,\nby hope alone, now that his hope seemed fulfilled felt all at once the\nweakness that a man feels after a journey which has proved beyond his\nstrength. Chilo noticed this, and resolved to make use of it.\n\n\"The gates are watched, it is true, by thy people, and the Christians\nmust know that. But they do not need gates. The Tiber, too, does not\nneed them; and though it is far from the river to those roads, it is\nworth while to walk one road more to see the 'Great Apostle.' Moreover\nthey may have a thousand ways of going beyond the walls, and I know that\nthey have. In Ostrianum thou wilt find Lygia; and even should she not be\nthere, which I will not admit, Ursus will be there, for he has promised\nto kill Glaucus. He told me himself that he would be there, and that he\nwould kill him. Dost hear, noble tribune? Either thou wilt follow Ursus\nand learn where Lygia dwells, or thou wilt command thy people to seize\nhim as a murderer, and, having him in thy hand, thou wilt make him\nconfess where he has hidden Lygia. I have done my best! Another would\nhave told thee that he had drunk ten cantars of the best wine with Ursus\nbefore he wormed the secret out of him; another would have told thee\nthat he had lost a thousand sestertia to him in scriptoe duodecim, or\nthat he had bought the intelligence for two thousand; I know that thou\nwouldst repay me doubly, but in spite of that, once in my life--I mean,\nas always in my life--I shall be honest, for I think, as the magnanimous\nPetronius says, that thy bounty exceeds all my hopes and expectations.\"\n\nVinicius, who was a soldier and accustomed not only to take counsel of\nhimself in all cases, but to act, was overcome by a momentary weakness\nand said,--\"Thou wilt not deceive thyself as to my liberality, but first\nthou wilt go with me to Ostrianum.\"\n\n\"I, to Ostrianum?\" inquired Chilo, who had not the least wish to go\nthere. \"I, noble tribune, promised thee to point out Lygia, but I did\nnot promise to take her away for thee. Think, lord, what would happen\nto me if that Lygian bear, when he had torn Glaucus to pieces, should\nconvince himself straightway that he had torn him not altogether justly?\nWould he not look on me (of course without reason) as the cause of the\naccomplished murder? Remember, lord, that the greater philosopher a man\nis, the more difficult it is for him to answer the foolish questions\nof common people; what should I answer him were he to ask me why I\ncalumniated Glaucus? But if thou suspect that I deceive thee, I say, pay\nme only when I point out the house in which Lygia lives; show me to-day\nonly a part of thy liberality, so that if thou, lord (which may all the\ngods ward from thee), succumb to some accident, I shall not be entirely\nwithout recompense. Thy heart could not endure that.\"\n\nVinicius went to a casket called \"area,\" standing on a marble pedestal,\nand, taking out a purse, threw it to Chilo.\n\n\"There are scrupula,\" said he; \"when Lygia shall be in my house, thou\nwilt get the same full of aurei.\"\n\n\"Thou art Jove!\" exclaimed Chilo.\n\nBut Vinicius frowned.\n\n\"Thou wilt receive food here,\" said he; \"then thou mayest rest. Thou\nwilt not leave this house till evening, and when night falls thou wilt\ngo with me to Ostrianum.\"\n\nFear and hesitation were reflected on the Greek's face for a time; but\nafterward he grew calm, and said,--\"Who can oppose thee, lord! Receive\nthese my words as of good omen, just as our great hero received words\nlike them in the temple of Ammon. As to me, these 'scruples'\" (here\nhe shook the purse) \"have outweighed mine, not to mention thy society,\nwhich for me is delight and happiness.\"\n\nVinicius interrupted him impatiently, and asked for details of his\nconversation with Ursus. From them it seemed clear that either Lygia's\nhiding-place would be discovered that night, or he would be able to\nseize her on the road back from Ostrianum. At thought of this, Vinicius\nwas borne away by wild delight. Now, when he felt clearly sure of\nfinding Lygia, his anger against her, and his feeling of offence almost\nvanished. In return for that delight he forgave her every fault. He\nthought of her only as dear and desired, and he had the same impression\nas if she were returning after a long journey. He wished to summon his\nslaves and command them to deck the house with garlands. In that hour\nhe had not a complaint against Ursus, even. He was ready to forgive all\npeople everything. Chilo, for whom, in spite of his services, he had\nfelt hitherto a certain repulsion, seemed to him for the first time an\namusing and also an uncommon person. His house grew radiant; his\neyes and his face became bright. He began again to feel youth and the\npleasure of life. His former gloomy suffering had not given him yet a\nsufficient measure of how he loved Lygia. He understood this now for the\nfirst time, when he hoped to possess her. His desires woke in him, as\nthe earth, warmed by the sun, wakes in spring; but his desires this time\nwere less blind and wild, as it were, and more joyous and tender. He\nfelt also within himself energy without bounds, and was convinced that\nshould he but see Lygia with his own eyes, all the Christians on earth\ncould not take her from him, nor could Cæsar himself.\n\nChilo, emboldened by the young tribune's delight, regained power of\nspeech and began to give advice. According to him, it behooved Vinicius\nnot to look on the affair as won, and to observe the greatest caution,\nwithout which all their work might end in nothing. He implored Vinicius\nnot to carry off Lygia from Ostrianum. They ought to go there with hoods\non their heads, with their faces hidden, and restrict themselves to\nlooking at all who were present from some dark corner. When they saw\nLygia, it would be safest to follow her at a distance, see what house\nshe entered, surround it next morning at daybreak, and take her away in\nopen daylight. Since she was a hostage and belonged specially to Cæsar,\nthey might do that without fear of law. In the event of not finding her\nin Ostrianum they could follow Ursus, and the result would be the\nsame. To go to the cemetery with a crowd of attendants was\nimpracticable,--that might draw attention to them easily; then the\nChristians need only put out the lights, as they did when she was\nintercepted, and scatter in the darkness, or betake themselves to places\nknown to them only. But Vinicius and he should arm, and, still better,\ntake a couple of strong, trusty men to defend them in case of need.\n\nVinicius saw the perfect truth of what he said, and, recalling\nPetronius's counsel, commanded his slaves to bring Croton. Chilo, who\nknew every one in Rome, was set at rest notably when he heard the name\nof the famous athlete, whose superhuman strength in the arena he\nhad wondered at more than once, and he declared that he would go to\nOstrianum. The purse filled with great aurei seemed to him much easier\nof acquisition through the aid of Croton.\n\nHence he sat down in good spirits at the table to which, after a time,\nhe was called by the chief of the atrium.\n\nWhile eating, he told the slaves that he had obtained for their master\na miraculous ointment. The worst horse, if rubbed on the hoofs with it,\nwould leave every other far behind. A certain Christian had taught him\nhow to prepare that ointment, for the Christian elders were far more\nskilled in enchantment and miracles than even the Thessalians, though\nThessaly was renowned for its witches. The Christians had immense\nconfidence in him--why, any one easily understands who knows what a fish\nmeans. While speaking he looked sharply at the eyes of the slaves, in\nthe hope of discovering a Christian among them and informing Vinicius.\nBut when the hope failed him, he fell to eating and drinking uncommon\nquantities, not sparing praises on the cook, and declaring that he would\nendeavor to buy him of Vinicius. His joyfulness was dimmed only by the\nthought that at night he must go to Ostrianum. He comforted himself,\nhowever, as he would go in disguise, in darkness, and in the company\nof two men, one of whom was so strong that he was the idol of Rome; the\nother a patrician, a man of high dignity in the army. \"Even should they\ndiscover Vinicius,\" said he to himself, \"they will not dare to raise a\nhand on him; as to me, they will be wise if they see the tip of my nose\neven.\"\n\nHe fell then to recalling his conversation with the laborer; and the\nrecollection of that filled him again with delight. He had not the least\ndoubt that that laborer was Ursus. He knew of the uncommon strength\nof the man, from the narratives of Vinicius, and those who had brought\nLygia from Cæsar's palace. When he inquired of Euricius touching men of\nexceptional strength, there was nothing remarkable in this, that they\npointed out Ursus. Then the confusion and rage of the laborer at mention\nof Vinicius and Lygia left him no doubt that those persons concerned him\nparticularly; the laborer had mentioned also his penance for killing a\nman,--Ursus had killed Atacinus; finally, the appearance of the laborer\nanswered perfectly to the account which Vinicius had given of the\nLygian. The change of name was all that could provoke doubt, but Chilo\nknew that frequently Christians took new names at baptism.\n\n\"Should Ursus kill Glaucus,\" said Chilo to himself, \"that will be better\nstill; but should he not kill him, that will be a good sign, for it will\nshow how difficult it is for Christians to murder. I described Glaucus\nas a real son of Judas, and a traitor to all Christians; I was so\neloquent that a stone would have been moved, and would have promised to\nfall on the head of Glaucus. Still I hardly moved that Lygian bear to\nput his paw on him. He hesitated, was unwilling, spoke of his penance\nand compunction. Evidently murder is not common among them. Offences\nagainst one's self must be forgiven, and there is not much freedom in\ntaking revenge for others. Ergo, stop! think, Chilo, what can threaten\nthee? Glaucus is not free to avenge himself on thee. If Ursus will not\nkill Glaucus for such a great crime as the betrayal of all Christians,\nso much the more will he not kill thee for the small offence of\nbetraying one Christian. Moreover, when I have once pointed out to this\nardent wood-pigeon the nest of that turtle-dove, I will wash my hands of\neverything, and transfer myself to Naples. The Christians talk, also, of\na kind of washing of the hands; that is evidently a method by which, if\na man has an affair with them, he may finish it decisively. What good\npeople these Christians are, and how ill men speak of them! O God! such\nis the justice of this world. But I love that religion, since it does\nnot permit killing; but if it does not permit killing, it certainly does\nnot permit stealing, deceit, or false testimony; hence I will not say\nthat it is easy. It teaches, evidently, not only to die honestly, as the\nStoics teach, but to live honestly also. If ever I have property and\na house, like this, and slaves in such numbers as Vinicius, perhaps I\nshall be a Christian as long as may be convenient. For a rich man can\npermit himself everything, even virtue. This is a religion for the\nrich; hence I do not understand how there are so many poor among its\nadherents. What good is it for them, and why do they let virtue tie\ntheir hands? I must think over this sometime. Meanwhile praise to thee,\nHermes! for helping me discover this badger. But if thou hast done so\nfor the two white yearling heifers with gilded horns, I know thee not.\nBe ashamed, O slayer of Argos! such a wise god as thou, and not foresee\nthat thou wilt get nothing! I will offer thee my gratitude; and if thou\nprefer two beasts to it, thou art the third beast thyself, and in the\nbest event thou shouldst be a shepherd, not a god. Have a care, too,\nlest I, as a philosopher, prove to men that thou art non-existent, and\nthen all will cease to bring thee offerings. It is safer to be on good\nterms with philosophers.\"\n\nSpeaking thus to himself and to Hermes, he stretched on the sofa, put\nhis mantle under his head, and was sleeping when the slave removed the\ndishes. He woke,--or rather they roused him,--only at the coming of\nCroton. He went to the atrium, then, and began to examine with pleasure\nthe form of the trainer, an ex-gladiator, who seemed to fill the whole\nplace with his immensity. Croton had stipulated as to the price of the\ntrip, and was just speaking to Vinicius.\n\n\"By Hercules! it is well, lord,\" said he, \"that thou hast sent to-day\nfor me, since I shall start to-morrow for Beneventum, whither the noble\nVatinius has summoned me to make a trial, in presence of Cæsar, of a\ncertain Syphax, the most powerful negro that Africa has ever produced.\nDost thou imagine, lord, how his spinal column will crack in my arms, or\nhow besides I shall break his black jaw with my fist?\"\n\n\"By Pollux! Croton, I am sure that thou wilt do that,\" answered\nVinicius.\n\n\"And thou wilt act excellently,\" added Chilo. \"Yes, to break his jaw,\nbesides! That's a good idea, and a deed which befits thee. But rub thy\nlimbs with olive oil to-day, my Hercules, and gird thyself, for know\nthis, you mayst meet a real Cacus. The man who is guarding that girl in\nwhom the worthy Vinicius takes interest, has exceptional strength very\nlikely.\"\n\nChilo spoke thus only to rouse Croton's ambition.\n\n\"That is true,\" said Vinicius; \"I have not seen him, but they tell me\nthat he can take a bull by the horns and drag him wherever he pleases.\"\n\n\"Oi!\" exclaimed Chilo, who had not imagined that Ursus was so strong.\nBut Croton laughed, from contempt. \"I undertake, worthy lord,\" said he,\n\"to bear away with this hand whomever thou shalt point out to me, and\nwith this other defend myself against seven such Lygians, and bring the\nmaiden to thy dwelling though all the Christians in Rome were pursuing\nme like Calabrian wolves. If not, I will let myself be beaten with clubs\nin this impluvium.\"\n\n\"Do not permit that, lord,\" cried Chilo. \"They will hurl stones at us,\nand what could his strength effect? Is it not better to take the girl\nfrom the house,--not expose thyself or her to destruction?\"\n\n\"This is true, Croton,\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"I receive thy money, I do thy will! But remember, lord, that to-morrow\nI go to Beneventum.\"\n\n\"I have five hundred slaves in the city,\" answered Vinicius.\n\nHe gave them a sign to withdraw, went to the library himself, and\nsitting down wrote the following words to Petronius,--\n\n\"The Lygian has been found by Chilo. I go this evening with him and\nCroton to Ostrianum, and shall carry her off from the house to-night or\nto-morrow. May the gods pour down on thee everything favorable. Be well,\nO carissime! for joy will not let me write further.\"\n\nLaying aside the reed then, he began to walk with quick step; for\nbesides delight, which was overflowing his soul, he was tormented with\nfever. He said to himself that to-morrow Lygia would be in that house.\nHe did not know how to act with her, but felt that if she would love him\nhe would be her servant. He recalled Acte's assurance that he had been\nloved, and that moved him to the uttermost. Hence it would be merely\na question of conquering a certain maiden modesty, and a question of\ncertain ceremonies which Christian teaching evidently commanded. But if\nthat were true, Lygia, when once in his house, would yield to persuasion\nor superior force; she would have to say to herself, \"It has happened!\"\nand then she would be amiable and loving.\n\nBut Chilo appeared and interrupted the course of these pleasant\nthoughts. \"Lord,\" said the Greek, \"this is what has come to my head.\nHave not the Christians signs, 'passwords,' without which no one will be\nadmitted to Ostrianum? I know that it is so in houses of prayer, and\nI have received those passwords from Euricius; permit me then to go to\nhim, lord, to ask precisely, and receive the needful signs.\"\n\n\"Well, noble sage,\" answered Vinicius, gladly; \"thou speakest as a man\nof forethought, and for that praise belongs to thee. Thou wit go, then,\nto Euricius, or whithersoever it may please thee; but as security thou\nwilt leave on this table here that purse which thou hast received from\nme.\"\n\nChilo, who always parted with money unwillingly, squirmed; still he\nobeyed the command and went out. From the Carinæ to the Circus, near\nwhich was the little shop of Euricius, it was not very far; hence he\nreturned considerably before evening.\n\n\"Here are the signs, lord. Without them they would not admit us. I have\ninquired carefully about the road. I told Euricius that I needed the\nsigns only for my friends; that I would not go myself, since it was too\nfar for my advanced age; that, moreover, I should see the Great Apostle\nmyself to-morrow, and he would repeat to me the choicest parts of his\nsermon.\"\n\n\"How! Thou wilt not be there? Thou must go!\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"I know that I must; but I will go well hooded, and I advise thee to go\nin like manner, or we may frighten the birds.\"\n\nIn fact they began soon to prepare, for darkness had come on the world.\nThey put on Gallic cloaks with hoods, and took lanterns; Vinicius,\nbesides, armed himself and his companions with short, curved knives;\nChilo put on a wig, which he obtained on the way from the old man's\nshop, and they went out, hurrying so as to reach the distant Nomentan\nGate before it was closed.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XX\n\n\nTHEY went through the Vicus Patricius, along the Viminal to the former\nViminal gate, near the plain on which Diocletian afterward built\nsplendid baths. They passed the remains of the wall of Servius\nTullius, and through places more and more deserted they reached the Via\nNomentana; there, turning to the left, towards the Via Salaria, they\nfound themselves among hills full of sand-pits, and here and there they\nfound graveyards.\n\nMeanwhile it had grown dark completely, and since the moon had not risen\nyet, it would have been rather difficult for them to find the road were\nit not that the Christians themselves indicated it, as Chilo foresaw.\n\nIn fact, on the right, on the left, and in front, dark forms were\nevident, making their way carefully toward sandy hollows. Some of these\npeople carried lanterns,--covering them, however, as far as possible\nwith mantles; others, knowing the road better, went in the dark. The\ntrained military eye of Vinicius distinguished, by their movements,\nyounger men from old ones, who walked with canes, and from women,\nwrapped carefully in long mantles. The highway police, and villagers\nleaving the city, took those night wanderers, evidently, for laborers,\ngoing to sand-pits; or grave-diggers, who at times celebrated ceremonies\nof their own in the night-time. In proportion, however, as the young\npatrician and his attendants pushed forward, more and more lanterns\ngleamed, and the number of persons grew greater. Some of them sang songs\nin low voices, which to Vinicius seemed filled with sadness. At\nmoments a separate word or a phrase of the song struck his ear, as,\nfor instance, \"Awake, thou that sleepest,\" or \"Rise from the dead\"; at\ntimes, again, the name of Christ was repeated by men and women.\n\nBut Vinicius turned slight attention to the words, for it came to his\nhead that one of those dark forms might be Lygia. Some, passing near,\nsaid, \"Peace be with thee!\" or \"Glory be to Christ!\" but disquiet seized\nhim, and his heart began to beat with more life, for it seemed to him\nthat he heard Lygia's voice. Forms or movements like hers deceived him\nin the darkness every moment, and only when he had corrected mistakes\nmade repeatedly did he begin to distrust his own eyes.\n\nThe way seemed long to him. He knew the neighborhood exactly, but could\nnot fix places in the darkness. Every moment they came to some narrow\npassage, or piece of wall, or booths, which he did not remember as being\nin the vicinity of the city. Finally the edge of the moon appeared from\nbehind a mass of clouds, and lighted the place better than dim lanterns.\nSomething from afar began at last to glimmer like a fire, or the flame\nof a torch. Vinicius turned to Chilo.\n\n\"Is that Ostrianum?\" asked he.\n\nChilo, on whom night, distance from the city, and those ghostlike forms\nmade a deep impression, replied in a voice somewhat uncertain,--\"I know\nnot, lord; I have never been in Ostrianum. But they might praise God in\nsome spot nearer the city.\"\n\nAfter a while, feeling the need of conversation, and of strengthening\nhis courage, he added,--\"They come together like murderers; still\nthey are not permitted to murder, unless that Lygian has deceived me\nshamefully.\"\n\nVinicius, who was thinking of Lygia, was astonished also by the caution\nand mysteriousness with which her co-religionists assembled to hear\ntheir highest priest; hence he said,--\"Like all religions, this has its\nadherents in the midst of us; but the Christians are a Jewish sect.\nWhy do they assemble here, when in the Trans-Tiber there are temples to\nwhich the Jews take their offerings in daylight?\"\n\n\"The Jews, lord, are their bitterest enemies. I have heard that, before\nthe present Cæsar's time, it came to war, almost, between Jews and\nChristians. Those outbreaks forced Claudius Cæsar to expell all the\nJews, but at present that edict is abolished. The Christians, however,\nhide themselves from Jews, and from the populace, who, as is known to\nthee, accuse them of crimes and hate them.\"\n\nThey walked on some time in silence, till Chilo, whose fear increased\nas he receded from the gates, said,--\"When returning from the shop of\nEuricius, I borrowed a wig from a barber, and have put two beans in my\nnostrils. They must not recognize me; but if they do, they will not kill\nme. They are not malignant! They are even very honest. I esteem and love\nthem.\"\n\n\"Do not win them to thyself by premature praises,\" retorted Vinicius.\n\nThey went now into a narrow depression, closed, as it were, by two\nditches on the side, over which an aqueduct was thrown in one place. The\nmoon came out from behind clouds, and at the end of the depression\nthey saw a wall, covered thickly with ivy, which looked silvery in the\nmoonlight. That was Ostrianum.\n\nVinicius's heart began to beat now with more vigor. At the gate two\nquarryrnen took the signs from them. In a moment Vinicius and his\nattendants were in a rather spacious place enclosed on all sides by a\nwall. Here and there were separate monuments, and in the centre was\nthe entrance to the hypogeum itself, or crypt. In the lower part of the\ncrypt, beneath the earth, were graves; before the entrance a fountain\nwas playing. But it was evident that no very large number of persons\ncould find room in the hypogeum; hence Vinicius divined without\ndifficulty that the ceremony would take place outside, in the space\nwhere a very numerous throng was soon gathered.\n\nAs far as the eye could reach, lantern gleamed near lantern, but many\nof those who came had no light whatever. With the exception of a few\nuncovered heads, all were hooded, from fear of treason or the cold; and\nthe young patrician thought with alarm that, should they remain thus, he\nwould not be able to recognize Lygia in that crowd and in the dim light.\n\nBut all at once, near the crypt, some pitch torches were ignited and put\ninto a little pile. There was more light. After a while the crowd\nbegan to sing a certain strange hymn, at first in a low voice, and then\nlouder. Vinicius had never heard such a hymn before. The same yearning\nwhich had struck him in the hymns murmured by separate persons on\nthe way to the cemetery, was heard now in that, but with far more\ndistinctness and power; and at last it became as penetrating and immense\nas if together with the people, the whole cemetery, the hills, the pits,\nand the region about, had begun to yearn. It might seem, also, that\nthere was in it a certain calling in the night, a certain humble prayer\nfor rescue in wandering and darkness.\n\nEyes turned upward seemed to see some one far above, there on high,\nand outstretched hands seemed to implore him to descend. When the hymn\nceased, there followed a moment as it were of suspense,--so impressive\nthat Vinicius and his companions looked unwittingly toward the stars,\nas if in dread that something uncommon would happen, and that some one\nwould really descend to them.\n\nVinicius had seen a multitude of temples of most various structure in\nAsia Minor, in Egypt, and in Rome itself; he had become acquainted with\na multitude of religions, most varied in character, and had heard many\nhymns; but here, for the first time, he saw people calling on a divinity\nwith hymns,--not to carry out a fixed ritual, but calling from the\nbottom of the heart, with the genuine yearning which children might\nfeel for a father or a mother. One had to be blind not to see that those\npeople not merely honored their God, but loved him with the whole\nsoul. Vinicius had not seen the like, so far, in any land, during any\nceremony, in any sanctuary; for in Rome and in Greece those who still\nrendered honor to the gods did so to gain aid for themselves or\nthrough fear; but it had not even entered any one's head to love those\ndivinities.\n\nThough his mind was occupied with Lygia, and his attention with seeking\nher in the crowd, he could not avoid seeing those uncommon and wonderful\nthings which were happening around him. Meanwhile a few more torches\nwere thrown on the fire, which filled the cemetery with ruddy light and\ndarkened the gleam of the lanterns. That moment an old man, wearing a\nhooded mantle but with a bare head, issued from the hypogeum. This man\nmounted a stone which lay near the fire.\n\nThe crowd swayed before him. Voices near Vinicius whispered, \"Peter!\nPeter!\" Some knelt, others extended their hands toward him. There\nfollowed a silence so deep that one heard every charred particle that\ndropped from the torches, the distant rattle of wheels on the Via\nNomentana, and the sound of wind through the few pines which grew close\nto the cemetery.\n\nChilo bent toward Vinicius and whispered,--\"This is he! The foremost\ndisciple of Christ-a fisherman!\"\n\nThe old man raised his hand, and with the sign of the cross blessed\nthose present, who fell on their knees simultaneously. Vinicius and his\nattendants, not wishing to betray themselves, followed the example of\nothers. The young man could not seize his impressions immediately, for\nit seemed to him that the form which he saw there before him was both\nsimple and uncommon, and, what was more, the uncommonness flowed just\nfrom the simplicity. The old man had no mitre on his head, no garland of\noak-leaves on his temples, no palm in his hand, no golden tablet on his\nbreast, he wore no white robe embroidered with stars; in a word, he\nbore no insignia of the kind worn by priests--Oriental, Egyptian,\nor Greek--or by Roman flamens. And Vinicius was struck by that same\ndifference again which he felt when listening to the Christian hymns;\nfor that \"fisherman,\" too, seemed to him, not like some high priest\nskilled in ceremonial, but as it were a witness, simple, aged, and\nimmensely venerable, who had journeyed from afar to relate a truth which\nhe had seen, which he had touched, which he believed as he believed\nin existence, and he had come to love this truth precisely because\nhe believed it. There was in his face, therefore, such a power of\nconvincing as truth itself has. And Vinicius, who had been a sceptic,\nwho did not wish to yield to the charm of the old man, yielded, however,\nto a certain feverish curiosity to know what would flow from the lips of\nthat companion of the mysterious \"Christus,\" and what that teaching was\nof which Lygia and Pomponia Græcina were followers.\n\nMeanwhile Peter began to speak, and he spoke from the beginning like\na father instructing his children and teaching them how to live. He\nenjoined on them to renounce excess and luxury, to love poverty, purity\nof life, and truth, to endure wrongs and persecutions patiently, to obey\nthe government and those placed above them, to guard against treason,\ndeceit, and calumny; finally, to give an example in their own society to\neach other, and even to pagans.\n\nVinicius, for whom good was only that which could bring back to him\nLygia, and evil everything which stood as a barrier between them, was\ntouched and angered by certain of those counsels. It seemed to him that\nby enjoining purity and a struggle with desires the old man dared, not\nonly to condemn his love, but to rouse Lygia against him and confirm her\nin opposition. He understood that if she were in the assembly listening\nto those words, and if she took them to heart, she must think of him as\nan enemy of that teaching and an outcast.\n\nAnger seized him at this thought. \"What have I heard that is new?\"\nthought he. \"Is this the new religion? Every one knows this, every\none has heard it. The Cynics enjoined poverty and a restriction of\nnecessities; Socrates enjoined virtue as an old thing and a good one;\nthe first Stoic one meets, even such a one as Seneca, who has five\nhundred tables of lemon-wood, praises moderation, enjoins truth,\npatience in adversity, endurance in misfortune,--and all that is like\nstale, mouse-eaten grain; but people do not wish to eat it because it\nsmells of age.\"\n\nAnd besides anger, he had a feeling of disappointment, for he expected\nthe discovery of unknown, magic secrets of some kind, and thought that\nat least he would hear a rhetor astonishing by his eloquence; meanwhile\nhe heard only words which were immensely simple, devoid of every\nornament. He was astonished only by the mute attention with which the\ncrowd listened.\n\nBut the old man spoke on to those people sunk in listening,--told them\nto be kind, poor, peaceful, just, and pure; not that they might have\npeace during life, but that they might live eternally with Christ after\ndeath, in such joy and such glory, in such health and delight, as no one\non earth had attained at any time. And here Vinicius, though predisposed\nunfavorably, could not but notice that still there was a difference\nbetween the teaching of the old man and that of the Cynics, Stoics, and\nother philosophers; for they enjoin good and virtue as reasonable, and\nthe only thing practical in life, while he promised immortality,\nand that not some kind of hapless immortality beneath the earth, in\nwretchedness, emptiness, and want, but a magnificent life, equal to that\nof the gods almost. He spoke meanwhile of it as of a thing perfectly\ncertain; hence, in view of such a faith, virtue acquired a value simply\nmeasureless, and the misfortunes of this life became incomparably\ntrivial. To suffer temporally for inexhaustible happiness is a thing\nabsolutely different from suffering because such is the order of nature.\nBut the old man said further that virtue and truth should be loved\nfor themselves, since the highest eternal good and the virtue existing\nbefore ages is God; whoso therefore loves them loves God, and by that\nsame becomes a cherished child of His.\n\nVinicius did not understand this well, but he knew previously, from\nwords spoken by Pomponia Græcina to Petronius, that, according to the\nbelief of Christians, God was one and almighty; when, therefore,\nhe heard now again that He is all good and all just, he thought\ninvoluntarily that, in presence of such a demiurge, Jupiter, Saturn,\nApollo, Juno, Vesta, and Venus would seem like some vain and noisy\nrabble, in which all were interfering at once, and each on his or her\nown account.\n\nBut the greatest astonishment seized him when the old man declared\nthat God was universal love also; hence he who loves man fulfils God's\nsupreme command. But it is not enough to love men of one's own nation,\nfor the God-man shed his blood for all, and found among pagans such\nelect of his as Cornelius the Centurion; it is not enough either to love\nthose who do good to us, for Christ forgave the Jews who delivered him\nto death, and the Roman soldiers who nailed him to the cross, we should\nnot only forgive but love those who injure us, and return them good for\nevil; it is not enough to love the good, we must love the wicked also,\nsince by love alone is it possible to expel from them evil.\n\nChilo at these words thought to himself that his work had gone for\nnothing, that never in the world would Ursus dare to kill Glaucus,\neither that night or any other night. But he comforted himself at once\nby another inference from the teaching of the old man; namely, that\nneither would Glaucus kill him, though he should discover and recognize\nhim.\n\nVinicius did not think now that there was nothing new in the words of\nthe old man, but with amazement he asked himself: \"What kind of God is\nthis, what kind of religion is this, and what kind of people are these?\"\nAll that he had just heard could not find place in his head simply. For\nhim all was an unheard-of medley of ideas. He felt that if he wished,\nfor example, to follow that teaching, he would have to place on a\nburning pile all his thoughts, habits, and character, his whole nature\nup to that moment, burn them into ashes, and then fill himself with a\nlife altogether different, and an entirely new soul. To him the science\nor the religion which commanded a Roman to love Parthians, Syrians,\nGreeks, Egyptians, Gauls, and Britons, to forgive enemies, to return\nthem good for evil, and to love them, seemed madness. At the same\ntime he had a feeling that in that madness itself there was something\nmightier than all philosophies so far. He thought that because of its\nmadness it was impracticable, but because of its impracticability it was\ndivine. In his soul he rejected it; but he felt that he was parting as\nif from a field full of spikenard, a kind of intoxicating incense;\nwhen a man has once breathed of this he must, as in the land of the\nlotus-eaters, forget all things else ever after, and yearn for it only.\n\nIt seemed to him that there was nothing real in that religion, but that\nreality in presence of it was so paltry that it deserved not the time\nfor thought. Expanses of some kind, of which hitherto he had not had a\nsuspicion, surrounded him,--certain immensities, certain clouds. That\ncemetery began to produce on him the impression of a meeting-place for\nmadmen, but also of a place mysterious and awful, in which, as on a\nmystic bed, something was in progress of birth the like of which had\nnot been in the world so far. He brought before his mind all that, which\nfrom the first moment of his speech, the old man had said touching life,\ntruth, love, God; and his thoughts were dazed from the brightness, as\nthe eyes are blinded from lightning flashes which follow each other\nunceasingly.\n\nAs is usual with people for whom life has been turned into one single\npassion, Vinicius thought of all this through the medium of his love for\nLygia; and in the light of those flashes he saw one thing distinctly,\nthat if Lygia was in the cemetery, if she confessed that religion,\nobeyed and felt it, she never could and never would be his mistress.\n\nFor the first time, then, since he had made her acquaintance at Aulus's,\nVinicius felt that though now he had found her he would not get her.\nNothing similar had come to his head so far, and he could not explain it\nto himself then, for that was not so much an express understanding as\na dim feeling of irreparable loss and misfortune. There rose in him\nan alarm, which was turned soon into a storm of anger against the\nChristians in general, and against the old man in particular. That\nfisherman, whom at the first cast of the eye he considered a peasant,\nnow filled him with fear almost, and seemed some mysterious power\ndeciding his fate inexorably and therefore tragically.\n\nThe quarrymen again, unobserved, added torches to the fire; the wind\nceased to sound in the pines; the flame rose evenly, with a slender\npoint toward the stars, which were twinkling in a clear sky. Having\nmentioned the death of Christ, the old man talked now of Him only. All\nheld the breath in their breasts, and a silence set in which was deeper\nthan the preceding one, so that it was possible almost to hear the\nbeating of hearts. That man had seen! and he narrated as one in whose\nmemory every moment had been fixed in such a way that were he to close\nhis eyes he would see yet. He told, therefore, how on their return from\nthe Cross he and John had sat two days and nights in the supper-chamber,\nneither sleeping nor eating, in suffering, in sorrow, in doubt, in\nalarm, holding their heads in their hands, and thinking that He had\ndied. Oh, how grievous, how grievous that was! The third day had dawned\nand the light whitened the walls, but he and John were sitting in the\nchamber, without hope or comfort. How desire for sleep tortured them\n(for they had spent the night before the Passion without sleep)! They\nroused themselves then, and began again to lament. But barely had the\nsun risen when Mary of Magdala, panting, her hair dishevelled, rushed in\nwith the cry, \"They have taken away the Lord!\" When they heard this,\nhe and John sprang up and ran toward the sepulchre. But John, being\nyounger, arrived first; he saw the place empty, and dared not enter.\nOnly when there were three at the entrance did he, the person now\nspeaking to them, enter, and find on the stone a shirt with a winding\nsheet; but the body he found not.\n\nFear fell on them then, because they thought that the priests had\nborne away Christ, and both returned home in greater grief still. Other\ndisciples came later and raised a lament, now in company, so that the\nLord of Hosts might hear them more easily, and now separately and in\nturn. The spirit died within them, for they had hoped that the Master\nwould redeem Israel, and it was now the third day since his death; hence\nthey did not understand why the Father had deserted the Son, and they\npreferred not to look at the daylight, but to die, so grievous was the\nburden.\n\nThe remembrance of those terrible moments pressed even then from the\neyes of the old man two tears, which were visible by the light of the\nfire, coursing down his gray beard. His hairless and aged head was\nshaking, and the voice died in his breast.\n\n\"That man is speaking the truth and is weeping over it,\" said Vinicius\nin his soul. Sorrow seized by the throat the simple-hearted listeners\nalso. They had heard more than once of Christ's sufferings, and it was\nknown to them that joy succeeded sorrow; but since an apostle who had\nseen it told this, they wrung their hands under the impression, and\nsobbed or beat their breasts.\n\nBut they calmed themselves gradually, for the wish to hear more gained\nthe mastery. The old man closed his eyes, as if to see distant things\nmore distinctly in his soul, and continued,--\"When the disciples had\nlamented in this way, Mary of Magdala rushed in a second time, crying\nthat she had seen the Lord. Unable to recognize him, she thought him\nthe gardener: but He said, 'Mary!' She cried 'Rabboni!' and fell at his\nfeet. He commanded her to go to the disciples, and vanished. But they,\nthe disciples, did not believe her; and when she wept for joy, some\nupbraided her, some thought that sorrow had disturbed her mind, for\nshe said, too, that she had seen angels at the grave, but they, running\nthither a second time, saw the grave empty. Later in the evening\nappeared Cleopas, who had come with another from Emmaus, and they\nreturned quickly, saying: 'The Lord has indeed risen!' And they\ndiscussed with closed doors, out of fear of the Jews. Meanwhile He stood\namong them, though the doors had made no sound, and when they feared, He\nsaid, 'Peace be with you!'\n\n\"And I saw Him, as did all, and He was like light, and like the\nhappiness of our hearts, for we believed that He had risen from the\ndead, and that the seas will dry and the mountains turn to dust, but His\nglory will not pass.\n\n\"After eight days Thomas Didymus put his finger in the Lord's wounds and\ntouched His side; Thomas fell at His feet then, and cried, 'My Lord and\nmy God!' 'Because thou hast seen me thou hast believed; blessed are they\nwho have not seen and have believed!' said the Lord. And we heard those\nwords, and our eyes looked at Him, for He was among us.\"\n\nVinicius listened, and something wonderful took place in him. He forgot\nfor a moment where he was; he began to lose the feeling of reality, of\nmeasure, of judgment. He stood in the presence of two impossibilities.\nHe could not believe what the old man said; and he felt that it would be\nnecessary either to be blind or renounce one's own reason, to admit\nthat that man who said \"I saw\" was lying. There was something in his\nmovements, in his tears, in his whole figure, and in the details of\nthe events which he narrated, which made every suspicion impossible. To\nVinicius it seemed at moments that he was dreaming. But round about he\nsaw the silent throng; the odor of lanterns came to his nostrils; at a\ndistance the torches were blazing; and before him on the stone stood\nan aged man near the grave, with a head trembling somewhat, who, while\nbearing witness, repeated, \"I saw!\"\n\nAnd he narrated to them everything up to the Ascension into heaven. At\nmoments he rested, for he spoke very circumstantially; but it could be\nfelt that each minute detail had fixed itself in his memory, as a thing\nis fixed in a stone into which it has been engraved. Those who listened\nto him were seized by ecstasy. They threw back their hoods to hear him\nbetter, and not lose a word of those which for them were priceless. It\nseemed to them that some superhuman power had borne them to Galilee;\nthat they were walking with the disciples through those groves and on\nthose waters; that the cemetery was turned into the lake of Tiberius;\nthat on the bank, in the mist of morning, stood Christ, as he stood\nwhen John, looking from the boat, said, \"It is the Lord,\" and Peter cast\nhimself in to swim, so as to fall the more quickly at the beloved feet.\nIn the faces of those present were evident enthusiasm beyond bounds,\noblivion of life, happiness, and love immeasurable. It was clear that\nduring Peter's long narrative some of them had visions. When he began\nto tell how, at the moment of Ascension, the clouds closed in under\nthe feet of the Saviour, covered Him, and hid Him from the eyes of the\nApostles, all heads were raised toward the sky unconsciously, and a\nmoment followed as it were of expectation, as if those people hoped to\nsee Him or as if they hoped that He would descend again from the fields\nof heaven, and see how the old Apostle was feeding the sheep confided to\nhim, and bless both the flock and him.\n\nRome did not exist for those people, nor did the man Cæsar; there were\nno temples of pagan gods; there was only Christ, who filled the land,\nthe sea, the heavens, and the world.\n\nAt the houses scattered here and there along the Via Nomentana, the\ncocks began to crow, announcing midnight. At that moment Chilo pulled\nthe corner of Vinicius's mantle and whispered,--\"Lord, I see Urban over\nthere, not far from the old man, and with him is a maiden.\"\n\nVinicius shook himself, as if out of a dream, and, turning in the\ndirection indicated by the Greek, he saw Lygia.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXI\n\n\nEVERY drop of blood quivered in the young patrician at sight of her.\nHe forgot the crowd, the old man, his own astonishment at the\nincomprehensible things which he had heard,--he saw only her. At last,\nafter all his efforts, after long days of alarm, trouble, and suffering,\nhe had found her! For the first time he realized that joy might rush at\nthe heart, like a wild beast, and squeeze it till breath was lost. He,\nwho had supposed hitherto that on \"Fortuna\" had been imposed a kind of\nduty to accomplish all his wishes, hardly believed his own eyes now and\nhis own happiness. Were it not for that disbelief, his passionate\nnature might have urged him to some unconsidered step; but he wished\nto convince himself first that that was not the continuation of those\nmiracles with which his head was filled, and that he was not dreaming.\nBut there was no doubt,--he saw Lygia, and an interval of barely a few\nsteps divided them. She stood in perfect light, so that he could rejoice\nin the sight of her as much as he liked. The hood had fallen from her\nhead and dishevelled her hair; her mouth was open slightly, her eyes\nraised toward the Apostle, her face fixed in listening and delighted.\nShe was dressed in a dark woollen mantle, like a daughter of the people,\nbut never had Vinicius seen her more beautiful; and notwithstanding all\nthe disorder which had risen in him, he was struck by the nobility of\nthat wonderful patrician head in distinction to the dress, almost that\nof a slave. Love flew over him like a flame, immense, mixed with a\nmarvellous feeling of yearning, homage, honor, and desire. He felt\nthe delight which the sight of her caused him; he drank of her as of\nlife-giving water after long thirst. Standing near the gigantic Lygian,\nshe seemed to him smaller than before, almost a child; he noticed,\ntoo, that she had grown more slender. Her complexion had become almost\ntransparent; she made on him the impression of a flower, and a spirit.\nBut all the more did he desire to possess that woman, so different from\nall women whom he had seen or possessed in Rome or the Orient. He felt\nthat for her he would have given them all, and with them Rome and the\nworld in addition.\n\nHe would have lost himself in gazing, and forgotten himself altogether,\nhad it not been for Chilo, who pulled the corner of his mantle, out of\nfear that he might do something to expose them to danger. Meanwhile the\nChristians began to pray and sing. After a while Maranatha thundered\nforth, and then the Great Apostle baptized with water from the fountain\nthose whom the presbyters presented as ready for baptism. It seemed to\nVinicius that that night would never end. He wished now to follow Lygia\nas soon as possible, and seize her on the road or at her house.\n\nAt last some began to leave the cemetery, and Chilo whispered,--\"Let us\ngo out before the gate, lord, we have not removed our hoods, and people\nlook at us.\"\n\nSuch was the case, for during the discourse of the Apostle all had cast\naside their hoods so as to hear better, and they had not followed the\ngeneral example. Chilo's advice seemed wise, therefore. Standing before\nthe gate, they could look at all who passed; Ursus it was easy to\nrecognize by his form and size.\n\n\"Let us follow them,\" said Chilo; \"we shall see to what house they\ngo. To-morrow, or rather to-day, thou wilt surround the entrances with\nslaves and take her.\"\n\n\"No!\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"What dost thou wish to do, lord?\"\n\n\"We will follow her to the house and take her now, if thou wilt\nundertake that task, Croton?\"\n\n\"I will,\" replied Croton, \"and I will give myself to thee as a slave if\nI do not break the back of that bison who is guarding her.\"\n\nBut Chilo fell to dissuading and entreating them by all the gods not\nto do so. Croton was taken only for defence against attack in case they\nwere recognized, not to carry off the girl. To take her when there were\nonly two of them was to expose themselves to death, and, what was\nworse, they might let her out of their hands, and then she would hide\nin another place or leave Rome. And what could they do? Why not act\nwith certainty? Why expose themselves to destruction and the whole\nundertaking to failure?\n\nThough Vinicius restrained himself with the greatest effort from seizing\nLygia in his arms at once, right there in the cemetery, he felt that the\nGreek was right, and would have lent ear, perhaps, to his counsels, had\nit not been for Croton, to whom reward was the question.\n\n\"Lord, command that old goat to be silent,\" said he, \"or let me drop my\nfist on his head. Once in Buxentum, whither Lucius Saturnius took me to\na play, seven drunken gladiators fell on me at an inn, and none of them\nescaped with sound ribs. I do not say to take the girl now from the\ncrowd, for they might throw stones before our feet, but once she is at\nhome I will seize her, carry her away, and take her whithersoever thou\nshalt indicate.\"\n\nVinicius was pleased to hear those words, and answered,--\"Thus let it\nbe, by Hercules! To-morrow we may not find her at home; if we surprise\nthem they will remove the girl surely.\"\n\n\"This Lygian seems tremendously strong!\" groaned Chilo.\n\n\"No one will ask thee to hold his hands,\" answered Croton.\n\nBut they had to wait long yet, and the cocks had begun to crow before\ndawn when they saw Ursus coming through the gate, and with him Lygia.\nThey were accompanied by a number of other persons. It seemed to Chilo\nthat he recognized among them the Great Apostle; next to him walked\nanother old man, considerably lower in stature, two women who were not\nyoung, and a boy, who lighted the way with a lantern. After that handful\nfollowed a crowd, about two hundred in number; Vinicius, Chilo, and\nCroton walked with these people.\n\n\"Yes, lord,\" said Chilo, \"thy maiden is under powerful protection. That\nis the Great Apostle with her, for see how passing people kneel to him.\"\n\nPeople did in fact kneel before him, but Vinicius did not look at them.\nHe did not lose Lygia from his eyes for a moment; he thought only of\nbearing her away and, accustomed as he had been in wars to stratagems\nof all sorts, he arranged in his head the whole plan of seizure with\nsoldierly precision. He felt that the step on which he had decided was\nbold, but he knew well that bold attacks give success generally.\n\nThe way was long; hence at moments he thought too of the gulf which\nthat wonderful religion had dug between him and Lygia. Now he understood\neverything that had happened in the past, and why it had happened. He\nwas sufficiently penetrating for that. Lygia he had not known hitherto.\nHe had seen in her a maiden wonderful beyond others, a maiden toward\nwhom his feelings were inflamed: he knew now that her religion made her\ndifferent from other women, and his hope that feeling, desire, wealth,\nluxury, would attract her he knew now to be a vain illusion. Finally he\nunderstood this, which he and Petronius had not understood, that the\nnew religion ingrafted into the soul something unknown to that world\nin which he lived, and that Lygia, even if she loved him, would not\nsacrifice any of her Christian truths for his sake, and that, if\npleasure existed for her, it was a pleasure different altogether\nfrom that which he and Petronius and Cæsar's court and all Rome were\npursuing. Every other woman whom he knew might become his mistress,\nbut that Christian would become only his victim. And when he thought\nof this, he felt anger and burning pain, for he felt that his anger was\npowerless. To carry off Lygia seemed to him possible; he was almost sure\nthat he could take her, but he was equally sure that, in view of her\nreligion, he himself with his bravery was nothing, that his power\nwas nothing, and that through it he could effect nothing. That Roman\nmilitary tribune, convinced that the power of the sword and the fist\nwhich had conquered the world, would command it forever, saw for the\nfirst time in life that beyond that power there might be something else;\nhence he asked himself with amazement what it was. And he could\nnot answer distinctly; through his head flew merely pictures of the\ncemetery, the assembled crowd, and Lygia, listening with her whole soul\nto the words of the old man, as he narrated the passion, death, and\nresurrection of the God-man, who had redeemed the world, and promised it\nhappiness on the other shore of the Styx.\n\nWhen he thought of this, chaos rose in his head. But he was brought\nout of this chaos by Chilo, who fell to lamenting his own fate. He had\nagreed to find Lygia. He had sought for her in peril of his life, and he\nhad pointed her out. But what more do they want? Had he offered to\ncarry the maiden away? Who could ask anything like this of a maimed man\ndeprived of two fingers, an old man, devoted to meditation, to science,\nand virtue? What would happen were a lord of such dignity as Vinicius to\nmeet some mishap while bearing the maiden away? It is true that the gods\nare bound to watch over their chosen ones,--but have not such things\nhappened more than once, as if the gods were playing games instead of\nwatching what was passing in the world? Fortune is blindfold, as is\nwell known, and does not see even in daylight; what must the case be at\nnight? Let something happen,--let that Lygian bear hurl a millstone at\nthe noble Vinicius, or a keg of wine, or, still worse, water,--who\nwill give assurance that instead of a reward blame will not fall on\nthe hapless Chilo? He, the poor sage, has attached himself to the noble\nVinicius as Aristotle to Alexander of Macedon. If the noble lord should\ngive him at least that purse which he had thrust into his girdle before\nleaving home, there would be something with which to invoke aid in\ncase of need, or to influence the Christians. Oh, why not listen to the\ncounsels of an old man, counsels dictated by experience and prudence?\n\nVinicius, hearing this, took the purse from his belt, and threw it to\nthe fingers of Chilo.\n\n\"Thou hast it; be silent!\"\n\nThe Greek felt that it was unusually heavy, and gained confidence.\n\n\"My whole hope is in this,\" said he, \"that Hercules or Theseus performed\ndeeds still more arduous; what is my personal, nearest friend, Croton,\nif not Hercules? Thee, worthy lord, I will not call a demigod, for thou\nart a full god, and in future thou wilt not forget a poor, faithful\nservant, whose needs it will be necessary to provide for from time to\ntime, for once he is sunk in books, he thinks of nothing else; some\nfew stadia of garden land and a little house, even with the smallest\nportico, for coolness in summer, would befit such a donor. Meanwhile\nI shall admire thy heroic deeds from afar, and invoke Jove to befriend\nthee, and if need be I will make such an outcry that half Rome will be\nroused to thy assistance. What a wretched, rough road! The olive oil\nis burned out in the lantern; and if Croton, who is as noble as he is\nstrong, would bear me to the gate in his arms, he would learn, to begin\nwith, whether he will carry the maiden easily; second, he would act\nlike Æneas, and win all the good gods to such a degree that touching the\nresult of the enterprise I should be thoroughly satisfied.\"\n\n\"I should rather carry a sheep which died of mange a month ago,\"\nanswered the gladiator; \"but give that purse, bestowed by the worthy\ntribune, and I will bear thee to the gate.\"\n\n\"Mayst thou knock the great toe from thy foot,\" replied the Greek;\n\"what profit hast thou from the teachings of that worthy old man, who\ndescribed poverty and charity as the two foremost virtues? Has he not\ncommanded thee expressly to love me? Never shall I make thee, I see,\neven a poor Christian; it would be easier for the sun to pierce the\nwalls of the Mamertine prison than for truth to penetrate thy skull of a\nhippopotamus.\"\n\n\"Never fear!\" said Croton, who with the strength of a beast had no human\nfeeling. \"I shall not be a Christian! I have no wish to lose my bread.\"\n\n\"But if thou knew even the rudiments of philosophy, thou wouldst know\nthat gold is vanity.\"\n\n\"Come to me with thy philosophy. I will give thee one blow of my head in\nthe stomach; we shall see then who wins.\"\n\n\"An ox might have said the same to Aristotle,\" retorted Chilo.\n\nIt was growing gray in the world. The dawn covered with pale light the\noutlines of the walls. The trees along the wayside, the buildings, and\nthe gravestones scattered here and there began to issue from the shade.\nThe road was no longer quite empty. Marketmen were moving toward the\ngates, leading asses and mules laden with vegetables; here and there\nmoved creaking carts in which game was conveyed. On the road and along\nboth sides of it was a light mist at the very earth, which promised good\nweather. People at some distance seemed like apparitions in that mist.\nVinicius stared at the slender form of Lygia, which became more silvery\nas the light increased.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Chilo, \"I should offend thee were I to foresee the end of\nthy bounty, but now, when thou hast paid me, I may not be suspected of\nspeaking for my own interest only. I advise thee once more to go home\nfor slaves and a litter, when thou hast learned in what house the divine\nLygia dwells; listen not to that elephant trunk, Croton, who undertakes\nto carry off the maiden only to squeeze thy purse as if it were a bag of\ncurds.\"\n\n\"I have a blow of the fist to be struck between the shoulders, which\nmeans that thou wilt perish,\" said Croton.\n\n\"I have a cask of Cephalonian wine, which means that I shall be well,\"\nanswered Chilo.\n\nVinicius made no answer, for he approached the gate, at which a\nwonderful sight struck his eyes. Two soldiers knelt when the Apostle was\npassing; Peter placed his hand on their iron helmets for a moment, and\nthen made the sign of the cross on them. It had never occurred to\nthe patrician before that there could be Christians in the army; with\nastonishment he thought that as fire in a burning city takes in more\nand more houses, so to all appearances that doctrine embraces new souls\nevery day, and extends itself over all human understandings. This struck\nhim also with reference to Lygia, for he was convinced that, had\nshe wished to flee from the city, there would be guards willing to\nfacilitate her flight. He thanked the gods then that this had not\nhappened.\n\nAfter they had passed vacant places beyond the wall, the Christians\nbegan to scatter. There was need, therefore, to follow Lygia more from\na distance, and more carefully, so as not to rouse attention. Chilo fell\nto complaining of wounds, of pains in his legs, and dropped more\nand more to the rear. Vinicius did not oppose this, judging that the\ncowardly and incompetent Greek would not be needed. He would even have\npermitted him to depart, had he wished; but the worthy sage was detained\nby circumspection. Curiosity pressed him evidently, since he continued\nbehind, and at moments even approached with his previous counsels; he\nthought too that the old man accompanying the Apostle might be Glaucus,\nwere it not for his rather low stature.\n\nThey walked a good while before reaching the Trans-Tiber, and the sun\nwas near rising when the group surrounding Lygia dispersed. The Apostle,\nan old woman, and a boy went up the river; the old man of lower stature,\nUrsus, and Lygia entered a narrow vicus, and, advancing still about a\nhundred yards, went into a house in which were two shops,--one for the\nsale of olives, the other for poultry.\n\nChilo, who walked about fifty yards behind Vinicius and Croton, halted\nall at once, as if fixed to the earth, and, squeezing up to the wall,\nbegan to hiss at them to turn.\n\nThey did so, for they needed to take counsel.\n\n\"Go, Chilo,\" said Vinicius, \"and see if this house fronts on another\nstreet.\" Chilo, though he had complained of wounds in his feet, sprang\naway as quickly as if he had had the wings of Mercury on his ankles, and\nreturned in a moment.\n\n\"No,\" said he, \"there is but one entrance.\"\n\nThen, putting his hands together, he said, \"I implore thee, lord, by\nJupiter, Apollo, Vesta, Cybele, Isis, Osiris, Mithra Baal, and all the\ngods of the Orient and the Occident to drop this plan. Listen to me--\"\n\nBut he stopped on a sudden, for he saw that Vinicius's face was pale\nfrom emotion, and that his eyes were glittering like the eyes of a wolf.\nIt was enough to look at him to understand that nothing in the world\nwould restrain him from the undertaking. Croton began to draw air into\nhis herculean breast, and to sway his undeveloped skull from side to\nside as bears do when confined in a cage, but on his face not the least\nfear was evident.\n\n\"I will go in first,\" said he.\n\n\"Thou wilt follow me,\" said Vinicius, in commanding tones.\n\nAnd after a while both vanished in the dark entrance.\n\nChilo sprang to the corner of the nearest alley and watched from behind\nit, waiting for what would happen.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXII\n\n\nONLY inside the entrance did Vinicius comprehend the whole difficulty\nof the undertaking. The house was large, of several stories, one of the\nkind of which thousands were built in Rome, in view of profit from rent;\nhence, as a rule, they were built so hurriedly and badly that scarcely\na year passed in which numbers of them did not fall on the heads of\ntenants. Real hives, too high and too narrow, full of chambers and\nlittle dens, in which poor people fixed themselves too numerously. In a\ncity where many streets had no names, those houses had no numbers; the\nowners committed the collection of rent to slaves, who, not obliged by\nthe city government to give names of occupants, were ignorant themselves\nof them frequently. To find some one by inquiry in such a house was\noften very difficult, especially when there was no gate-keeper.\n\nVinicius and Croton came to a narrow, corridor-like passage walled in on\nfour sides, forming a kind of common atrium for the whole house, with a\nfountain in the middle whose stream fell into a stone basin fixed in the\nground. At all the walls were internal stairways, some of stone, some of\nwood, leading to galleries from which there were entrances to lodgings.\nThere were lodgings on the ground, also; some provided with wooden\ndoors, others separated from the yard by woollen screens only. These,\nfor the greater part, were worn, rent, or patched.\n\nThe hour was early, and there was not a living soul in the yard. It was\nevident that all were asleep in the house except those who had returned\nfrom Ostrianum.\n\n\"What shall we do, lord?\" asked Croton, halting.\n\n\"Let us wait here; some one may appear,\" replied Vinicius. \"We should\nnot be seen in the yard.\"\n\nAt this moment, he thought Chilo's counsel practical. If there were\nsome tens of slaves present, it would be easy to occupy the gate, which\nseemed the only exit, search all the lodgings simultaneously, and thus\ncome to Lygia's; otherwise Christians, who surely were not lacking in\nthat house, might give notice that people were seeking her. In view\nof this, there was risk in inquiring of strangers. Vinicius stopped to\nthink whether it would not be better to go for his slaves. Just then,\nfrom behind a screen hiding a remoter lodging, came a man with a sieve\nin his hand, and approached the fountain.\n\nAt the first glance the young tribune recognized Ursus.\n\n\"That is the Lygian!\" whispered Vinicius.\n\n\"Am I to break his bones now?\"\n\n\"Wait awhile!\"\n\nUrsus did not notice the two men, as they were in the shadow of the\nentrance, and he began quietly to sink in water vegetables which\nfilled the sieve. It was evident that, after a whole night spent in the\ncemetery, he intended to prepare a meal. After a while the washing\nwas finished; he took the wet sieve and disappeared behind the screen.\nCroton and Vinicius followed him, thinking that they would come directly\nto Lygia's lodgings. Their astonishment was great when they saw that the\nscreen divided from the court, not lodgings, but another dark corridor,\nat the end of which was a little garden containing a few cypresses, some\nmyrtle bushes, and a small house fixed to the windowless stone wall of\nanother stone building.\n\nBoth understood at once that this was for them a favoring circumstance.\nIn the courtyard all the tenants might assemble; the seclusion of the\nlittle house facilitated the enterprise. They would set aside defenders,\nor rather Ursus, quickly, and would reach the street just as quickly\nwith the captured Lygia; and there they would help themselves. It was\nlikely that no one would attack them; if attacked, they would say that\na hostage was fleeing from Cæsar. Vinicius would declare himself then to\nthe guards, and summon their assistance.\n\nUrsus was almost entering the little house, when the sound of steps\nattracted his attention; he halted, and, seeing two persons, put his\nsieve on the balustrade and turned to them.\n\n\"What do ye want here?\" asked he.\n\n\"Thee!\" said Vinicius.\n\nThen, turning to Croton, he said in a low, hurried voice:\n\n\"Kill!\"\n\nCroton rushed at him like a tiger, and in one moment, before the Lygian\nwas able to think or to recognize his enemies, Croton had caught him in\nhis arms of steel.\n\nVinicius was too confident in the man's preternatural strength to wait\nfor the end of the struggle. He passed the two, sprang to the door of\nthe little house, pushed it open and found himself in a room a trifle\ndark, lighted, however, by a fire burning in the chimney. A gleam of\nthis fire fell on Lygia's face directly. A second person, sitting at the\nfire, was that old man who had accompanied the young girl and Ursus on\nthe road from Ostrianum.\n\nVinicius rushed in so suddenly that before Lygia could recognize him he\nhad seized her by the waist, and, raising her, rushed toward the door\nagain. The old man barred the way, it is true; but pressing the girl\nwith one arm to his breast, Vinicius pushed him aside with the other,\nwhich was free. The hood fell from his head, and at sight of that face,\nwhich was known to her and which at that moment was terrible, the blood\ngrew cold in Lygia from fright, and the voice died in her throat. She\nwished to summon aid, but had not the power. Equally vain was her wish\nto grasp the door, to resist. Her fingers slipped along the stone, and\nshe would have fainted but for the terrible picture which struck her\neyes when Vinicius rushed into the garden.\n\nUrsus was holding in his arms some man doubled back completely, with\nhanging head and mouth filled with blood. When he saw them, he struck\nthe head once more with his fist, and in the twinkle of an eye sprang\ntoward Vinicius like a raging wild beast.\n\n\"Death!\" thought the young patrician.\n\nThen he heard, as through a dream, the scream of Lygia, \"Kill not!\"\nHe felt that something, as it were a thunderbolt, opened the arms with\nwhich he held Lygia; then the earth turned round with him, and the light\nof day died in his eyes.\n\n\nChilo, hidden behind the angle of the corner house, was waiting for\nwhat would happen, since curiosity was struggling with fear in him. He\nthought that if they succeeded in carrying off Lygia, he would fare well\nnear Vinicius. He feared Urban no longer, for he also felt certain that\nCroton would kill him. And he calculated that in case a gathering should\nbegin on the streets, which so far were empty,--if Christians, or people\nof any kind, should offer resistance,--he, Chilo, would speak to them as\none representing authority, as an executor of Cæsar's will, and if need\ncame, call the guards to aid the young patrician against the street\nrabble--thus winning to himself fresh favor. In his soul he judged\nyet that the young tribune's method was unwise; considering, however,\nCroton's terrible strength, he admitted that it might succeed, and\nthought, \"If it go hard with him, Vinicius can carry the girl, and\nCroton clear the way.\" Delay grew wearisome, however; the silence of the\nentrance which he watched alarmed him.\n\n\"If they do not hit upon her hiding-place, and make an uproar, they will\nfrighten her.\"\n\nBut this thought was not disagreeable; for Chilo understood that in that\nevent he would be necessary again to Vinicius, and could squeeze afresh\na goodly number of sestertia from the tribune.\n\n\"Whatever they do,\" said he to himself, \"they will work for me, though\nno one divines that. O gods! O gods! only permit me-\"\n\nAnd he stopped suddenly, for it seemed to him that some one was bending\nforward through the entrance; then, squeezing up to the wall, he began\nto look, holding the breath in his breast.\n\nAnd he had not deceived himself, for a head thrust itself half out of\nthe entrance and looked around. After a while, however, it vanished.\n\n\"That is Vinicius, or Croton,\" thought Chilo; \"but if they have taken\nthe girl, why does she not scream, and why are they looking out to the\nstreet? They must meet people anyhow, for before they reach the Carinæ\nthere will be movement in the city--What is that? By the immortal gods!\"\n\nAnd suddenly the remnant of his hair stood on end.\n\nIn the door appeared Ursus, with the body of Croton hanging on his arm,\nand looking around once more, he began to run, bearing it along the\nempty street toward the river.\n\nChilo made himself as flat against the wall as a bit of mud.\n\n\"I am lost if he sees me!\" thought he.\n\nBut Ursus ran past the corner quickly, and disappeared beyond the\nneighboring house. Chilo, without further waiting, his teeth chattering\nfrom terror, ran along the cross street with a speed which even in a\nyoung man might have roused admiration.\n\n\"If he sees me from a distance when he is returning, he will catch and\nkill me,\" said he to himself. \"Save me, Zeus; save me, Apollo; save\nme, Hermes; save me, O God of the Christians! I will leave Rome, I will\nreturn to Mesembria, but save me from the hands of that demon!\"\n\nAnd that Lygian who had killed Croton seemed to him at that moment some\nsuperhuman being. While running, he thought that he might be some god\nwho had taken the form of a barbarian. At that moment he believed in all\nthe gods of the world, and in all myths, at which he jeered usually. It\nflew through his head, too, that it might be the God of the Christians\nwho had killed Croton; and his hair stood on end again at the thought\nthat he was in conflict with such a power.\n\nOnly when he had run through a number of alleys, and saw some workmen\ncoming toward him from a distance, was he calmed somewhat. Breath failed\nin his breast; so he sat on the threshold of a house and began to wipe,\nwith a corner of his mantle, his sweat-covered forehead.\n\n\"I am old, and need calm,\" said he.\n\nThe people coming toward him turned into some little side street, and\nagain the place round about was empty. The city was sleeping yet. In the\nmorning movement began earlier in the wealthier parts of the city,\nwhere the slaves of rich houses were forced to rise before daylight; in\nportions inhabited by a free population, supported at the cost of the\nState, hence unoccupied, they woke rather late, especially in winter.\nChilo, after he had sat some time on the threshold, felt a piercing\ncold; so he rose, and, convincing himself that he had not lost the purse\nreceived from Vinicius, turned toward the river with a step now much\nslower.\n\n\"I may see Croton's body somewhere,\" said he to himself. \"O gods! that\nLygian, if he is a man, might make millions of sestertia in the course\nof one year; for if he choked Croton, like a whelp, who can resist him?\nThey would give for his every appearance in the arena as much gold as he\nhimself weighs. He guards that maiden better than Cerberus does Hades.\nBut may Hades swallow him, for all that! I will have nothing to do with\nhim. He is too bony. But where shall I begin in this case? A dreadful\nthing has happened. If he has broken the bones of such a man as Croton,\nbeyond a doubt the soul of Vinicius is puling above that cursed house\nnow, awaiting his burial. By Castor! but he is a patrician, a friend\nof Cæsar, a relative of Petronius, a man known in all Rome, a military\ntribune. His death cannot pass without punishment. Suppose I were to go\nto the pretorian camp, or the guards of the city, for instance?\"\n\nHere he stopped and began to think, but said after a while,--\"Woe is me!\nWho took him to that house if not I? His freedmen and his slaves know\nthat I came to his house, and some of them know with what object. What\nwill happen if they suspect me of having pointed out to him purposely\nthe house in which his death met him? Though it appear afterward, in the\ncourt, that I did not wish his death, they will say that I was the\ncause of it. Besides, he is a patrician; hence in no event can I avoid\npunishment. But if I leave Rome in silence, and go far away somewhere, I\nshall place myself under still greater suspicion.\"\n\nIt was bad in every case. The only question was to choose the less evil.\nRome was immense; still Chilo felt that it might become too small for\nhim. Any other man might go directly to the prefect of the city guards\nand tell what had happened, and, though some suspicion might fall\non him, await the issue calmly. But Chilo's whole past was of such\ncharacter that every closer acquaintance with the prefect of the city\nor the prefect of the guard must cause him very serious trouble, and\nconfirm also every suspicion which might enter the heads of officials.\n\nOn the other hand, to flee would be to confirm Petronius in the opinion\nthat Vinicius had been betrayed and murdered through conspiracy.\nPetronius was a powerful man, who could command the police of the whole\nEmpire, and who beyond doubt would try to find the guilty parties even\nat the ends of the earth. Still, Chilo thought to go straight to him,\nand tell what had happened. Yes; that was the best plan. Petronius was\ncalm, and Chilo might be sure of this, at least, that he would hear him\nto the end. Petronius, who knew the affair from its inception, would\nbelieve in Chilo's innocence more easily than would the prefects.\n\nBut to go to him, it was needful to know with certainty what had\nhappened to Vinicius. Chilo did not know that. He had seen, it is true,\nthe Lygian stealing with Croton's body to the river, but nothing more.\nVinicius might be killed; but he might be wounded or detained. Now it\noccurred to Chilo for the first time, that surely the Christians would\nnot dare to kill a man so powerful,--a friend of Cæsar, and a high\nmilitary official,--for that kind of act might draw on them a general\npersecution. It was more likely that they had detained him by superior\nforce, to give Lygia means to hide herself a second time.\n\nThis thought filled Chilo with hope.\n\n\"If that Lygian dragon has not torn him to pieces at the first attack,\nhe is alive, and if he is alive he himself will testify that I have not\nbetrayed him; and then not only does nothing threaten me, but--O Hermes,\ncount again on two heifers--a fresh field is opening. I can inform\none of the freedmen where to seek his lord; and whether he goes to the\nprefect or not is his affair, the only point being that I should not go.\nAlso, I can go to Petronius, and count on a reward. I have found Lygia;\nnow I shall find Vinicius, and then again Lygia. It is needful to know\nfirst whether Vinicius is dead or living.\"\n\nHere it occurred to him that he might go in the night to the baker Demas\nand inquire about Ursus. But he rejected that thought immediately. He\npreferred to have nothing to do with Ursus. He might suppose, justly,\nthat if Ursus had not killed Glaucus he had been warned, evidently, by\nthe Christian elder to whom he had confessed his design,--warned that\nthe affair was an unclean one, to which some traitor had persuaded him.\nIn every case, at the mere recollection of Ursus, a shiver ran through\nChilo's whole body. But he thought that in the evening he would send\nEuricius for news to that house in which the thing had happened.\nMeanwhile he needed refreshment, a bath, and rest. The sleepless night,\nthe journey to Ostrianum, the flight from the Trans-Tiber, had wearied\nhim exceedingly.\n\nOne thing gave him permanent comfort: he had on his person two\npurses,--that which Vinicius had given him at home, and that which\nhe had thrown him on the way from the cemetery. In view of this happy\ncircumstance, and of all the excitement through which he had passed, he\nresolved to eat abundantly, and drink better wine than he drank usually.\n\nWhen the hour for opening the wine-shop came at last, he did so in such\na marked measure that he forgot the bath; he wished to sleep, above all,\nand drowsiness overcame his strength so that he returned with tottering\nstep to his dwelling in the Subura, where a slave woman, purchased with\nmoney obtained from Vinicius, was waiting for him.\n\nWhen he had entered a sleeping-room, as dark as the den of a fox, he\nthrew himself on the bed, and fell asleep in one instant. He woke only\nin the evening, or rather he was roused by the slave woman, who called\nhim to rise, for some one was inquiring, and wished to see him on urgent\nbusiness.\n\nThe watchful Chilo came to himself in one moment, threw on his hooded\nmantle hastily, and, commanding the slave woman to stand aside, looked\nout cautiously.\n\nAnd he was benumbed! for he saw before the door of the sleeping-room the\ngigantic form of Ursus.\n\nAt that sight he felt his feet and head grow icy-cold, the heart ceased\nto beat in his bosom, and shivers were creeping along his back. For\na time he was unable to speak; then with chattering teeth he said, or\nrather groaned,--\n\n\"Syra--I am not at home--I don't know that--good man-\"\n\n\"I told him that thou wert at home, but asleep, lord,\" answered the\ngirl; \"he asked to rouse thee.\"\n\n\"O gods! I will command that thou--\"\n\nBut Ursus, as if impatient of delay, approached the door of the\nsleeping-room, and, bending, thrust in his head.\n\n\"O Chilo Chilonides!\" said he.\n\n\"Pax tecum! pax! pax!\" answered Chilo. \"O best of Christians! Yes, I am\nChilo; but this is a mistake,--I do not know thee!\"\n\n\"Chilo Chilonides,\" repeated Ursus, \"thy lord, Vinicius, summons thee to\ngo with me to him.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIII\n\n\nA PIERCING pain roused Vinicius. At the first moment he could not\nunderstand where he was, nor what was happening. He felt a roaring in\nhis head, and his eyes were covered as if with mist. Gradually, however,\nhis consciousness returned, and at last he beheld through that mist\nthree persons bending over him. Two he recognized: one was Ursus, the\nother the old man whom he had thrust aside when carrying off Lygia. The\nthird, an utter stranger, was holding his left arm, and feeling it from\nthe elbow upward as far as the shoulder-blade. This caused so terrible\na pain that Vinicius, thinking it a kind of revenge which they were\ntaking, said through his set teeth, \"Kill me!\" But they paid no apparent\nheed to his words, just as though they heard them not, or considered\nthem the usual groans of suffering. Ursus, with his anxious and also\nthreatening face of a barbarian, held a bundle of white cloth torn in\nlong strips. The old man spoke to the person who was pressing the arm of\nVinicius,--\"Glaucus, art thou certain that the wound in the head is not\nmortal?\"\n\n\"Yes, worthy Crispus,\" answered Glaucus. \"While serving in the fleet as\na slave, and afterward while living at Naples, I cured many wounds, and\nwith the pay which came to me from that occupation I freed myself and my\nrelatives at last. The wound in the head is slight. When this one [here\nhe pointed to Ursus with his head] took the girl from the young man,\nhe pushed him against the wall; the young man while falling put out his\narm, evidently to save himself; he broke and disjointed it, but by so\ndoing saved his head and his life.\"\n\n\"Thou hast had more than one of the brotherhood in thy care,\" added\nCrispus, \"and hast the repute of a skilful physician; therefore I sent\nUrsus to bring thee.\"\n\n\"Ursus, who on the road confessed that yesterday he was ready to kill\nme!\"\n\n\"He confessed his intention earlier to me than to thee; but I, who know\nthee and thy love for Christ, explained to him that the traitor is not\nthou, but the unknown, who tried to persuade him to murder.\"\n\n\"That was an evil spirit, but I took him for an angel,\" said Ursus, with\na sigh.\n\n\"Some other time thou wilt tell me, but now we must think of this\nwounded man.\" Thus speaking, he began to set the arm. Though Crispus\nsprinkled water on his face, Vinicius fainted repeatedly from suffering;\nthat was, however, a fortunate circumstance, since he did not feel the\npain of putting his arm into joint, nor of setting it. Glaucus fixed the\nlimb between two strips of wood, which he bound quickly and firmly, so\nas to keep the arm motionless. When the operation was over, Vinicius\nrecovered consciousness again and saw Lygia above him. She stood there\nat the bed holding a brass basin with water, in which from time to time\nGlaucus dipped a sponge and moistened the head of his patient.\n\nVinicius gazed and could not believe his eyes. What he saw seemed a\ndream, or the pleasant vision brought by fever, and only after a long\ntime could he whisper,--\"Lygia!\"\n\nThe basin trembled in her hand at that sound, but she turned on him eyes\nfull of sadness.\n\n\"Peace be with thee!\" answered she, in a low voice.\n\nShe stood there with extended arms, her face full of pity and sorrow.\nBut he gazed, as if to fill his sight with her, so that after his lids\nwere closed the picture might remain under them. He looked at her face,\npaler and smaller than it had been, at the tresses of dark hair, at the\npoor dress of a laboring woman; he looked so intently that her snowy\nforehead began to grow rose-colored under the influence of his look. And\nfirst he thought that he would love her always; and second, that that\npaleness of hers and that poverty were his work,--that it was he who had\ndriven her from a house where she was loved, and surrounded with plenty\nand comfort, and thrust her into that squalid room, and clothed her in\nthat poor robe of dark wool.\n\nHe would have arrayed her in the costliest brocade, in all the jewels of\nthe earth; hence astonishment, alarm, and pity seized him, and sorrow so\ngreat that he would have fallen at her feet had he been able to move.\n\n\"Lygia,\" said he, \"thou didst not permit my death.\"\n\n\"May God return health to thee,\" she answered, with sweetness.\n\nFor Vinicius, who had a feeling both of those wrongs which he had\ninflicted on her formerly, and those which he had wished to inflict on\nher recently, there was a real balsam in Lygia's words. He forgot at the\nmoment that through her mouth Christian teaching might speak; he felt\nonly that a beloved woman was speaking, and that in her answer there was\na special tenderness, a goodness simply preterhuman, which shook him to\nthe depth of his soul. As just before he had grown weak from pain, so\nnow he grew weak from emotion. A certain faintness came on him, at once\nimmense and agreeable. He felt as if falling into some abyss, but he\nfelt that to fall was pleasant, and that he was happy. He thought at\nthat moment of weakness that a divinity was standing above him.\n\nMeanwhile Glaucus had finished washing the wound in his head, and had\napplied a healing ointment. Ursus took the brass basin from Lygia's\nhands; she brought a cup of water and wine which stood ready on the\ntable, and put it to the wounded man's lips. Vinicius drank eagerly, and\nfelt great relief. After the operation the pain had almost passed; the\nwound and contusion began to grow firm; perfect consciousness returned\nto him.\n\n\"Give me another drink,\" said he.\n\nLygia took the empty cup to the next room; meanwhile Crispus, after a\nfew words with Glaucus, approached the bed saying,--\n\n\"God has not permitted thee, Vinicius, to accomplish an evil deed, and\nhas preserved thee in life so that thou shouldst come to thy mind. He,\nbefore whom man is but dust, delivered thee defenceless into our hands;\nbut Christ, in whom we believe, commanded us to love even our enemies.\nTherefore we have dressed thy wounds, and, as Lygia has said, we will\nimplore God to restore thy health, but we cannot watch over thee longer.\nBe in peace, then, and think whether it beseems thee to continue thy\npursuit of Lygia. Thou hast deprived her of guardians, and us of a roof,\nthough we return thee good for evil.\"\n\n\"Do ye wish to leave me? inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"We wish to leave this house, in which prosecution by the prefect of\nthe city may reach us. Thy companion was killed; thou, who art powerful\namong thy own people, art wounded. This did not happen through our\nfault, but the anger of the law might fall on us.\"\n\n\"Have no fear of prosecution,\" replied Vinicius; \"I will protect you.\"\n\nCrispus did not like to tell him that with them it was not only a\nquestion of the prefect and the police, but of him; they wished to\nsecure Lygia from his further pursuit.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"thy right arm is well. Here are tablets and a stilus;\nwrite to thy servants to bring a litter this evening and bear thee to\nthy own house, where thou wilt have more comfort than in our poverty.\nWe dwell here with a poor widow, who will return soon with her son,\nand this youth will take thy letter; as to us, we must all find another\nhiding-place.\"\n\nVinicius grew pale, for he understood that they wished to separate him\nfrom Lygia, and that if he lost her now he might never see her in life\nagain. He knew indeed that things of great import had come between him\nand her, in virtue of which, if he wished to possess her, he must\nseek some new methods which he had not had time yet to think over.\nHe understood too that whatever he might tell these people, though he\nshould swear that he would return Lygia to Pomponia Græcina, they would\nnot believe him, and were justified in refusing belief. Moreover, he\nmight have done that before. Instead of hunting for Lygia, he might have\ngone to Pomponia and sworn to her that he renounced pursuit, and in that\ncase Pomponia herself would have found Lygia and brought her home. No;\nhe felt that such promises would not restrain them, and no solemn oath\nwould be received, the more since, not being a Christian, he could swear\nonly by the immortal gods, in whom he did not himself believe greatly,\nand whom they considered evil spirits.\n\nHe desired desperately to influence Lygia and her guardians in some way,\nbut for that there was need of time. For him it was all-important to see\nher, to look at her for a few days even. As every fragment of a plank\nor an oar seems salvation to a drowning man, so to him it seemed that\nduring those few days he might say something to bring him nearer to\nher, that he might think out something, that something favorable might\nhappen. Hence he collected his thoughts and said,--\n\n\"Listen to me, Christians. Yesterday I was with you in Ostrianum, and\nI heard your teaching; but though I did not know it, your deeds have\nconvinced me that you are honest and good people. Tell that widow who\noccupies this house to stay in it, stay in it yourselves, and let me\nstay. Let this man [here he turned to Glaucus], who is a physician, or\nat least understands the care of wounds, tell whether it is possible to\ncarry me from here to-day. I am sick, I have a broken arm, which must\nremain immovable for a few days even; therefore I declare to you that I\nwill not leave this house unless you bear me hence by force!\"\n\nHere he stopped, for breath failed in his breast, and Crispus said,--\"We\nwill use no force against thee, lord; we will only take away our own\nheads.\"\n\nAt this the young man, unused to resistance, frowned and said,--\"Permit\nme to recover breath\"; and after a time he began again to speak,--\"Of\nCroton, whom Ursus killed, no one will inquire. He had to go to-day\nto Beneventum, whither he was summoned by Vatinius, therefore all will\nthink that he has gone there. When I entered this house in company with\nCroton, no one saw us except a Greek who was with us in Ostrianum. I\nwill indicate to you his lodgings; bring that man to me. On him I will\nenjoin silence; he is paid by me. I will send a letter to my own house\nstating that I too went to Beneventum. If the Greek has informed the\nprefect already, I will declare that I myself killed Croton, and that it\nwas he who broke my arm. I will do this, by my father's shade and by my\nmother's! Ye may remain in safety here; not a hair will fall from the\nhead of one of you. Bring hither, and bring in haste, the Greek whose\nname is Chilo Chilonides!\"\n\n\"Then Glaucus will remain with thee,\" said Crispus, \"and the widow will\nnurse thee.\"\n\n\"Consider, old man, what I say,\" said Vinicius, who frowned still more.\n\"I owe thee gratitude, and thou seemest good and honest; but thou dost\nnot tell me what thou hast in the bottom of thy soul. Thou art afraid\nlest I summon my slaves and command them to take Lygia. Is this true?\"\n\n\"It is,\" said Crispus, with sternness.\n\n\"Then remember this, I shall speak before all to Chilo, and write a\nletter home that I have gone to Beneventum. I shall have no messengers\nhereafter but you. Remember this, and do not irritate me longer.\"\n\nHere he was indignant, and his face was contorted with anger. Afterward\nhe began to speak excitedly,--\n\n\"Hast thou thought that I would deny that I wish to stay here to see\nher? A fool would have divined that, even had I denied it. But I will\nnot try to take her by force any longer. I will tell thee more: if she\nwill not stay here, I will tear the bandages with this sound hand from\nmy arm, will take neither food nor drink; let my death fall on thee and\nthy brethren. Why hast thou nursed me? Why hast thou not commanded to\nkill me?\" He grew pale from weakness and anger.\n\nLygia, who had heard all from the other room and who was certain that\nVinicius would do what he promised, was terrified. She would not\nhave him die for anything. Wounded and defenceless, he roused in her\ncompassion, not fear. Living from the time of her flight among people in\ncontinual religious enthusiasm, thinking only of sacrifices, offerings,\nand boundless charity, she had grown so excited herself through that\nnew inspiration, that for her it took the place of house, family, lost\nhappiness, and made her one of those Christian maidens who, later on,\nchanged the former soul of the world. Vinicius had been too important\nin her fate, had been thrust too much on her, to let her forget him. She\nhad thought of him whole days, and more than once had begged God for the\nmoment in which, following the inspiration of religion, she might return\ngood for his evil, mercy for his persecution, break him, win him to\nChrist, save him. And now it seemed to her that precisely that moment\nhad come, and that her prayers had been heard.\n\nShe approached Crispus therefore with a face as if inspired, and\naddressed him as though some other voice spoke through her,--\"Let him\nstay among us, Crispus, and we will stay with him till Christ gives him\nhealth.\"\n\nThe old presbyter, accustomed to seek in all things the inspiration of\nGod, beholding her exaltation, thought at once that perhaps a higher\npower was speaking through her, and, fearing in his heart, he bent his\ngray head, saying,--\"Let it be as thou sayest.\"\n\nOn Vinicius, who the whole time had not taken his eyes from her,\nthis ready obedience of Crispus produced a wonderful and pervading\nimpression. It seemed to him that among the Christians Lygia was a kind\nof sibyl or priestess whom they surrounded with obedience and honor;\nand he yielded himself also to that honor. To the love which he felt\nwas joined now a certain awe, in presence of which love itself became\nsomething almost insolent. He could not familiarize himself, however,\nwith the thought that their relations had changed: that now not she was\ndependent on his will, but he on hers; that he was lying there sick and\nbroken; that he had ceased to be an attacking, a conquering force;\nthat he was like a defenceless child in her care. For his proud and\ncommanding nature such relations with any other person would have been\nhumiliating; now, however, not only did he not feel humiliated, but\nhe was thankful to her as to his sovereign. In him those were feelings\nunheard-of, feelings which he could not have entertained the day before,\nand which would have amazed him even on that day had he been able to\nanalyze them clearly. But he did not inquire at the moment why it was\nso, just as if the position had been perfectly natural; he merely felt\nhappy because he remained there.\n\nAnd he wished to thank her with gratefulness, and still with a kind of\nfeeling unknown to him in such a degree that he knew not what to\ncall it, for it was simply submission. His previous excitement had so\nexhausted him that he could not speak, and he thanked her only with his\neyes, which were gleaming from delight because he remained near her, and\nwould be able to see her--to-morrow, next day, perhaps a long time. That\ndelight was diminished only by the dread that he might lose what he had\ngained. So great was this dread that when Lygia gave him water a second\ntime, and the wish seized him to take her hand, he feared to do so. He\nfeared!--he, that Vinicius who at Cæsar's feast had kissed her lips\nin spite of her! he, that Vinicius who after her flight had promised\nhimself to drag her by the hair to the cubiculum, or give command to\nflog her!\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIV\n\n\nBUT he began also to fear that some outside force might disturb his\ndelight. Chilo might give notice of his disappearance to the prefect of\nthe city, or to his freedmen at home; and in such an event an invasion\nof the house by the city guards was likely. Through his head flew the\nthought, it is true, that in that event he might give command to seize\nLygia and shut her up in his house, but he felt that he ought not to do\nso, and he was not capable of acting thus. He was tyrannical, insolent,\nand corrupt enough, if need be he was inexorable, but he was not\nTigellinus or Nero. Military life had left in him a certain feeling of\njustice, and religion, and a conscience to understand that such a deed\nwould be monstrously mean. He would have been capable, perhaps, of\ncommitting such a deed during an access of anger and while in possession\nof his strength, but at that moment he was filled with tenderness, and\nwas sick. The only question for Vinicius at that time was that no one\nshould stand between him and Lygia.\n\nHe noticed, too, with astonishment, that from the moment when Lygia\nhad taken his part, neither she herself nor Crispus asked from him any\nassurances, just as if they felt confident that, in case of need, some\nsuperhuman power would defend them. The young tribune, in whose head the\ndistinction between things possible and impossible had grown involved\nand faint since the discourse of the Apostle in Ostrianum, was also\nnot too far from supposing that that might take place. But considering\nthings more soberly, he remembered what he had said of the Greek, and\nasked again that Chilo be brought to him.\n\nCrispus agreed, and they decided to send Ursus. Vinicius, who in recent\ndays, before his visit to Ostrianum, had sent slaves frequently to\nChilo, though without result, indicated his lodgings accurately to the\nLygian; then writing a few words on the tablet, he said, turning to\nCrispus,--\"I give a tablet, for this man is suspicious and cunning.\nFrequently when summoned by me, he gave directions to answer my people\nthat he was not at home; he did so always when he had no good news for\nme, and feared my anger.\"\n\n\"If I find him, I will bring him, willing or unwilling,\" said Ursus.\nThen, taking his mantle, he went out hurriedly.\n\nTo find any one in Rome was not easy, even with the most accurate\ndirections; but in those cases the instinct of a hunter aided Ursus, and\nalso his great knowledge of the city. After a certain time, therefore,\nhe found himself at Chilo's lodgings.\n\nHe did not recognize Chilo, however. He had seen him but once in\nhis life before, and moreover, in the night. Besides, that lofty and\nconfident old man who had persuaded him to murder Glaucus was so unlike\nthe Greek, bent double from terror, that no one could suppose the two\nto be one person. Chilo, noticing that Ursus looked at him as a perfect\nstranger, recovered from his first fear. The sight of the tablet, with\nthe writing of Vinicius, calmed him still more. At least the suspicion\nthat he would take him into an ambush purposely did not trouble him. He\nthought, besides, that the Christians had not killed Vinicius, evidently\nbecause they had not dared to raise hands on so noted a person.\n\n\"And then Vinicius will protect me in case of need,\" thought he; \"of\ncourse he does not send to deliver me to death.\"\n\nSummoning some courage, therefore, he said: \"My good man, has not my\nfriend the noble Vinicius sent a litter? My feet are swollen; I cannot\nwalk so far.\"\n\n\"He has not,\" answered Ursus; \"we shall go on foot.\"\n\n\"But if I refuse?\"\n\n\"Do not, for thou wilt have to go.\"\n\n\"And I will go, but of my own will. No one could force me, for I am a\nfree man, and a friend of the prefect of the city. As a sage, I have\nalso means to overcome others, and I know how to turn people into trees\nand wild beasts. But I will go, I will go! I will only put on a mantle\nsomewhat warmer, and a hood, lest the slaves of that quarter might\nrecognize me; they would stop me every moment to kiss my hands.\"\n\nHe put on a new mantle then, and let down a broad Gallic hood, lest\nUrsus might recognize his features on coming into clearer light.\n\n\"Where wilt thou take me?\" asked he on the road.\n\n\"To the Trans-Tiber.\"\n\n\"I am not long in Rome, and I have never been there, but there too, of\ncourse, live men who love virtue.\"\n\nBut Ursus, who was a simple man, and had heard Vinicius say that the\nGreek had been with him in Ostrianum, and had seen him with Croton enter\nthe house in which Lygia lived, stopped for a moment and said,--\"Speak\nno untruth, old man, for to-day thou wert with Vinicius in Ostrianum and\nunder our gate.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Chilo, \"then is your house in the Trans-Tiber? I have not\nbeen long in Rome, and know not how the different parts are named. That\nis true, friend; I was under the gate, and implored Vinicius in the name\nof virtue not to enter. I was in Ostrianum, and dost thou know why? I am\nworking for a certain time over the conversion of Vinicius, and wished\nhim to hear the chief of the Apostles. May the light penetrate his\nsoul and thine! But thou art a Christian, and wishest truth to overcome\nfalsehood.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" answered Ursus, with humility.\n\nCourage returned to Chilo completely.\n\n\"Vinicius is a powerful lord,\" said he, \"and a friend of Cæsar. He\nlistens often yet to the whisperings of the evil spirit; but if even a\nhair should fall from his head, Cæsar would take vengeance on all the\nChristians.\"\n\n\"A higher power is protecting us.\"\n\n\"Surely, surely! But what do ye intend to do with Vinicius?\" inquired\nChilo, with fresh alarm.\n\n\"I know not. Christ commands mercy.\"\n\n\"Thou hast answered excellently. Think of this always, or thou wilt fry\nin hell like a sausage in a frying-pan.\"\n\nUrsus sighed, and Chilo thought that he could always do what he liked\nwith that man, who was terrible at the moment of his first outburst. So,\nwishing to know what happened at the seizing of Lygia, he asked further,\nin the voice of a stern judge,--\"How did ye treat Croton? Speak, and do\nnot prevaricate.\"\n\nUrsus sighed a second time. \"Vinicius will tell thee.\"\n\n\"That means that thou didst stab him with a knife, or kill him with a\nclub.\"\n\n\"I was without arms.\"\n\nThe Greek could not resist amazement at the superhuman strength of the\nbarbarian.\n\n\"May Pluto--that is to say, may Christ pardon thee!\"\n\nThey went on for some time in silence; then Chilo said:\n\n\"I will not betray thee; but have a care of the watches.\"\n\n\"I fear Christ, not the watches.\"\n\n\"And that is proper. There is no more grievous crime than murder. I will\npray for thee; but I know not if even my prayer can be effective, unless\nthou make a vow never to touch any one in life with a finger.\"\n\n\"As it is, I have not killed purposely,\" answered Ursus.\n\nBut Chilo, who desired to secure himself in every case, did not cease to\ncondemn murder, and urge Ursus to make the vow. He inquired also about\nVinicius; but the Lygian answered his inquiries unwillingly, repeating\nthat from Vinicius himself he would hear what he needed. Speaking in\nthis way, they passed at last the long road which separated the lodgings\nof the Greek from the Trans-Tiber, and found themselves before the\nhouse. Chilo's heart began to beat again unquietly. From dread it seemed\nto him that Ursus was beginning to look at him with a kind of greedy\nexpression.\n\n\"It is small consolation to me,\" said he to himself, \"if he kills me\nunwillingly. I prefer in every case that paralysis should strike him,\nand with him all the Lygians,--which do thou effect, O Zeus, if thou art\nable.\"\n\nThus meditating, he wrapped himself more closely in his Gallic mantle,\nrepeating that he feared the cold. Finally, when they had passed the\nentrance and the first court, and found themselves in the corridor\nleading to the garden of the little house, he halted suddenly and\nsaid,--\"Let me draw breath, or I shall not be able to speak with\nVinicius and give him saving advice.\"\n\nHe halted; for though he said to himself that no danger threatened,\nstill his legs trembled under him at the thought that he was among those\nmysterious people whom he had seen in Ostrianum.\n\nMeanwhile a hymn came to their ears from the little house.\n\n\"What is that?\" inquired Chilo.\n\n\"Thou sayest that thou art a Christian, and knowest not that among us\nit is the custom after every meal to glorify our Saviour with singing,\"\nanswered Ursus. \"Miriam and her son must have returned, and perhaps the\nApostle is with them, for he visits the widow and Crispus every day.\"\n\n\"Conduct me directly to Vinicius.\"\n\n\"Vinicius is in the same room with all, for that is the only large one;\nthe others are very small chambers, to which we go only to sleep. Come\nin; thou wilt rest there.\"\n\nThey entered. It was rather dark in the room; the evening was cloudy\nand cold, the flames of a few candles did not dispel the darkness\naltogether. Vinicius divined rather than recognized Chilo in the\nhooded man. Chilo, seeing the bed in the corner of the room, and on it\nVinicius, moved toward him directly, not looking at the others, as if\nwith the conviction that it would be safest near him.\n\n\"Oh, lord, why didst thou not listen to my counsels?\" exclaimed he,\nputting his hands together.\n\n\"Silence!\" said Vinicius, \"and listen!\"\n\nHere he looked sharply into Chilo's eyes, and spoke slowly with\nemphasis, as if wishing the Greek to understand every word of his as a\ncommand, and to keep it forever in memory.\n\n\"Croton threw himself on me to kill and rob me, dost understand? I\nkilled him then, and these people dressed the wounds which I received in\nthe struggle.\"\n\nChilo understood in a moment that if Vinicius spoke in this way it must\nbe in virtue of some agreement with the Christians, and in that case he\nwished people to believe him. He saw this, too, from his face; hence in\none moment, without showing doubt or astonishment, he raised his eyes\nand exclaimed,--\"That was a faith-breaking ruffian! But I warned thee,\nlord, not to trust him; my teachings bounded from his head as do peas\nwhen thrown against a wall. In all Hades there are not torments enough\nfor him. He who cannot be honest must be a rogue; what is more difficult\nthan for a rogue to become honest? But to fall on his benefactor, a lord\nso magnanimous--O gods!\"\n\nHere he remembered that he had represented himself to Ursus on the way\nas a Christian, and stopped.\n\n\"Were it not for the 'sica,' which I brought, he would have slain me,\"\nsaid Vinicius.\n\n\"I bless the moment in which I advised thee to take a knife even.\"\n\nVinicius turned an inquiring glance on the Greek, and asked,--\"What hast\nthou done to-day?\"\n\n\"How? What! have I not told thee, lord, that I made a vow for thy\nhealth?\"\n\n\"Nothing more?\"\n\n\"I was just preparing to visit thee, when this good man came and said\nthat thou hadst sent for me.\"\n\n\"Here is a tablet. Thou wilt go with it to my house; thou wilt find my\nfreedman and give it to him. It is written on the tablet that I have\ngone to Beneventum. Thou wilt tell Demas from thyself that I went this\nmorning, summoned by an urgent letter from Petronius.\" Here he repeated\nwith emphasis: \"I have gone to Beneventum, dost understand?\"\n\n\"Thou has gone, lord. This morning I took leave of thee at the Porta\nCapena, and from the time of thy departure such sadness possesses me\nthat if thy magnanimity will not soften it, I shall cry myself to death,\nlike the unhappy wife of Zethos [Aedon turned into a nightingale] in\ngrief for Itylos.\"\n\nVinicius, though sick and accustomed to the Greek's suppleness, could\nnot repress a smile. He was glad, moreover, that Chilo understood in a\nflash; hence he said,\n\n\"Therefore I will write that thy tears be wiped away. Give me the\ncandle.\" Chilo, now pacified perfectly, rose, and, advancing a few steps\ntoward the chimney, took one of the candles which was burning at the\nwall. But while he was doing this, the hood slipped from his head, and\nthe light fell directly on his face. Glaucus sprang from his seat and,\ncoming up quickly, stood before him.\n\n\"Dost thou not recognize me, Cephas?\" asked he. In his voice there was\nsomething so terrible that a shiver ran through all present.\n\nChilo raised the candle, and dropped it to the earth almost the same\ninstant; then he bent nearly double and began to groan,--\"I am not he--I\nam not he! Mercy!\"\n\nGlaucus turned toward the faithful, and said,--\"This is the man who\nbetrayed--who ruined me and my family!\"\n\nThat history was known to all the Christians and to Vinicius, who had\nnot guessed who that Glaucus was,--for this reason only, that he fainted\nrepeatedly from pain during the dressing of his wound, and had not heard\nhis name. But for Ursus that short moment, with the words of Glaucus,\nwas like a lightning-flash in darkness. Recognizing Chilo, he was at\nhis side with one spring, and, seizing his arm, bent it back,\nexclaiming,--\"This is the man who persuaded me to kill Glaucus!\"\n\n\"Mercy!\" groaned Chilo. \"I will give you--O lord!\" exclaimed he, turning\nhis head to Vinicius, \"save me! I trusted in thee, take my part. Thy\nletter--I will deliver it. O lord, lord!\"\n\nBut Vinicius, who looked with more indifference than any one at what was\npassing, first because all the affairs of the Greek were more or less\nknown to him, and second because his heart knew not what pity was,\nsaid,--\"Bury him in the garden; some one else will take the letter.\"\n\nIt seemed to Chilo that those words were his final sentence. His bones\nwere shaking in the terrible hands of Ursus; his eyes were filled with\ntears from pain.\n\n\"By your God, pity!\" cried he; \"I am a Christian! Pax vobiscum! I am\na Christian; and if ye do not believe me, baptize me again, baptize me\ntwice, ten times! Glaucus, that is a mistake! Let me speak, make me a\nslave! Do not kill me! Have mercy!\"\n\nHis voice, stifled with pain, was growing weaker and weaker, when the\nApostle Peter rose at the table; for a moment his white head shook,\ndrooping toward his breast, and his eyes were closed; but he opened them\nthen, and said amid silence,--\n\n\"The Saviour said this to us: 'If thy brother has sinned against\nthee, chastise him; but if he is repentant, forgive him. And if he has\noffended seven times in the day against thee, and has turned to thee\nseven times, saying, \"Have mercy on me!\" forgive him.'\"\n\nThen came a still deeper silence. Glaucus remained a long time with his\nhands covering his face; at last he removed them and said,--\"Cephas, may\nGod forgive thy offences, as I forgive them in the name of Christ.\"\n\nUrsus, letting go the arms of the Greek, added at once:\n\n\"May the Saviour be merciful to thee as I forgive thee.\"\n\nChilo dropped to the ground, and, supported on it with his hands, turned\nhis head like a wild beast caught in a snare, looking around to see\nwhence death might come. He did not trust his eyes and ears yet, and\ndared not hope for forgiveness. Consciousness returned to him slowly;\nhis blue lips were still trembling from terror.\n\n\"Depart in peace!\" said the Apostle, meanwhile.\n\nChilo rose, but could not speak. He approached the bed of Vinicius, as\nif seeking protection in it still; for he had not time yet to think that\nthat man, though he had used his services and was still his accomplice,\ncondemned him, while those against whom he had acted forgave. This\nthought was to come to him later. At present simply astonishment and\nincredulity were evident in his look. Though he had seen that they\nforgave him, he wished to bear away his head at the earliest from among\nthese incomprehensible people, whose kindness terrified him almost as\nmuch as their cruelty would have terrified. It seemed to him that\nshould he remain longer, something unexpected would happen again; hence,\nstanding above Vinicius, he said with a broken voice,--\n\n\"Give the letter, lord,--give the letter!\"\n\nAnd snatching the tablet which Vinicius handed him, he made one\nobeisance to the Christians, another to the sick man, pushed along\nsidewise by the very wall, and hurried out through the door. In the\ngarden, when darkness surrounded him, fear raised the hair on his head\nagain, for he felt sure that Ursus would rush out and kill him in the\nnight. He would have run with all his might, but his legs would not\nmove; next moment they were perfectly uncontrollable, for Ursus stood\nnear him really.\n\nChilo fell with his face to the earth, and began to groan: \"Urban--in\nChrist's name\"--\n\nBut Urban said: \"Fear not. The Apostle commanded me to lead thee out\nbeyond the gate, lest thou might go astray in the darkness, and, if\nstrength failed thee, to conduct thee home.\"\n\n\"What dost thou say?\" asked Chilo, raising his face. \"What? Thou wilt\nnot kill me?\"\n\n\"No, I will not; and if I seized thee too roughly and harmed a bone in\nthee, pardon me.\"\n\n\"Help me to rise,\" said the Greek. \"Thou wilt not kill me? Thou wilt\nnot? Take me to the Street; I will go farther alone.\"\n\nUrsus raised him as he might a feather, and placed him on his feet; then\nhe conducted him through the dark corridor to the second court. From\nthere was a passage to the entrance and the street. In the corridor\nChilo repeated again in his soul, \"It is all over with me!\" Only when he\nfound himself on the street did he recover and say, \"I can go on alone.\"\n\n\"Peace be with thee.\"\n\n\"And with thee! and with thee! Let me draw breath.\"\n\nAnd after Ursus had gone, he breathed with a full breast. He felt his\nwaist and hips, as if to convince himself that he was living, and then\nmoved forward with hurried step.\n\n\"But why did they not kill me?\" And in spite of all his talk with\nEuricius about Christian teaching, in spite of his conversation at the\nriver with Urban, and in spite of all that he had heard in Ostrianum, he\ncould find no answer to that question.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXV\n\n\nNEITHER could Vinicius discover the cause of what had happened; and in\nthe bottom of his soul he was almost as much astonished as Chilo. That\nthose people should treat him as they had, and, instead of avenging his\nattack, dress his wounds carefully, he ascribed partly to the doctrine\nwhich they confessed, more to Lygia, and a little, also, to his great\nsignificance. But their conduct with Chilo simply went beyond his\nunderstanding of man's power of forgiveness. And the question thrust\nitself into his mind: Why did they not kill the Greek? They might have\nkilled him with impunity. Ursus would have buried him in the garden,\nor borne him in the dark to the Tiber, which during that period of\nnight-murders, committed by Cæsar himself even, cast up human bodies so\nfrequently in the morning that no one inquired whence they came. To his\nthinking, the Christians had not only the power, but the right to kill\nChilo. True, pity was not entirely a stranger to that world to which\nthe young patrician belonged. The Athenians raised an altar to pity, and\nopposed for a long time the introduction of gladiatorial combats into\nAthens. In Rome itself the conquered received pardon sometimes, as, for\ninstance, Calicratus, king of the Britons, who, taken prisoner in the\ntime of Claudius, and provided for by him bountifully, dwelt in the city\nin freedom. But vengeance for a personal wrong seemed to Vinicius, as to\nall, proper and justified. The neglect of it was entirely opposed to\nhis spirit. True, he had heard in Ostrianum that one should love even\nenemies; that, however, he considered as a kind of theory without\napplication in life. And now this passed through his head: that perhaps\nthey had not killed Chilo because the day was among festivals, or was in\nsome period of the moon during which it was not proper for Christians\nto kill a man. He had heard that there are days among various nations\non which it is not permitted to begin war even. But why, in such a case,\ndid they not deliver the Greek up to justice? Why did the Apostle say\nthat if a man offended seven times, it was necessary to forgive him\nseven times; and why did Glaucus say to Chilo, \"May God forgive thee, as\nI forgive thee\"?\n\nChilo had done him the most terrible wrong that one man could do\nanother. At the very thought of how he would act with a man who killed\nLygia, for instance, the heart of Vinicius seethed up, as does water\nin a caldron; there were no torments which he would not inflict in his\nvengeance! But Glaucus had forgiven; Ursus, too, had forgiven,--Ursus,\nwho might in fact kill whomever he wished in Rome with perfect impunity,\nfor all he needed was to kill the king of the grove in Nemi, and take\nhis place. Could the gladiator holding that office to which he had\nsucceeded only by killing the previous \"king,\" resist the man whom\nCroton could not resist? There was only one answer to all these\nquestions: that they refrained from killing him through a goodness so\ngreat that the like of it had not been in the world up to that time, and\nthrough an unbounded love of man, which commands to forget one's self,\none's wrongs, one's happiness and misfortune, and live for others.\nWhat reward those people were to receive for this, Vinicius heard in\nOstrianum, but he could not understand it. He felt, however, that the\nearthly life connected with the duty of renouncing everything good and\nrich for the benefit of others must be wretched. So in what he thought\nof the Christians at that moment, besides the greatest astonishment,\nthere was pity, and as it were a shade of contempt. It seemed to him\nthat they were sheep which earlier or later must be eaten by wolves; his\nRoman nature could yield no recognition to people who let themselves\nbe devoured. This one thing struck him, however,--that after Chilo's\ndeparture the faces of all were bright with a certain deep joy. The\nApostle approached Glaucus, placed his hand on his head, and said,--\"In\nthee Christ has triumphed.\"\n\nThe other raised his eyes, which were full of hope, and as bright\nwith joy as if some great unexpected happiness had been poured on him.\nVinicius, who could understand only joy or delight born of vengeance,\nlooked on him with eyes staring from fever, and somewhat as he would\non a madman. He saw, however, and saw not without internal indignation,\nthat Lygia pressed her lips of a queen to the hand of that man, who had\nthe appearance of a slave; and it seemed to him that the order of the\nworld was inverted utterly. Next Ursus told how he had conducted Chilo\nto the street, and had asked forgiveness for the harm which he might\nhave done his bones; for this the Apostle blessed him also. Crispus\ndeclared that it was a day of great victory. Hearing of this victory,\nVinicius lost the thread of his thought altogether.\n\nBut when Lygia gave him a cooling draught again, he held her hand for a\nmoment, and asked,--\"Then must thou also forgive me?\"\n\n\"We are Christians; it is not permitted us to keep anger in the heart.\"\n\n\"Lygia,\" said he, \"whoever thy God is, I honor Him only because He is\nthine.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt honor Him in thy heart when thou lovest Him.\"\n\n\"Only because He is thine,\" repeated Vinicius, in a fainter voice; and\nhe closed his eyes, for weakness had mastered him again.\n\nLygia went out, but returned after a time, and bent over him to learn if\nhe were sleeping. Vinicius, feeling that she was near, opened his eyes\nand smiled. She placed her hand over them lightly, as if to incline him\nto slumber. A great sweetness seized him then; but soon he felt more\ngrievously ill than before, and was very ill in reality. Night had come,\nand with it a more violent fever. He could not sleep, and followed Lygia\nwith his eyes wherever she went.\n\nAt times he fell into a kind of doze, in which he saw and heard\neverything which happened around him, but in which reality was mingled\nwith feverish dreams. It seemed to him that in some old, deserted\ncemetery stood a temple, in the form of a tower, in which Lygia was\npriestess. He did not take his eyes from her, but saw her on the summit\nof the tower, with a lute in her hands, all in the light, like those\npriestesses who in the night-time sing hymns in honor of the moon,\nand whom he had seen in the Orient. He himself was climbing up winding\nsteps, with great effort, to bear her away with him. Behind was creeping\nup Chilo, with teeth chattering from terror, and repeating, \"Do not\ndo that, lord; she is a priestess, for whom He will take vengeance.\"\nVinicius did not know who that He was, but he understood that he himself\nwas going to commit some sacrilege, and he felt a boundless fear also.\nBut when he went to the balustrade surrounding the summit of the tower,\nthe Apostle with his silvery beard stood at Lygia's side on a sudden,\nand said:\n\n\"Do not raise a hand; she belongs to me.\" Then he moved forward with\nher, on a path formed by rays from the moon, as if on a path made to\nheaven. He stretched his hands toward them, and begged both to take him\ninto their company.\n\nHere he woke, became conscious, and looked before him. The lamp on the\ntall staff shone more dimly, but still cast a light sufficiently clear.\nAll were sitting in front of the fire warming themselves, for the night\nwas chilly, and the chamber rather cold. Vinicius saw the breath coming\nas steam from their lips. In the midst of them sat the Apostle; at his\nknees, on a low footstool, was Lygia; farther on, Glaucus, Crispus,\nMiriam, and at the edge, on one side Ursus, on the other Miriam's son\nNazarius, a youth with a handsome face, and long, dark hair reaching\ndown to his shoulders.\n\nLygia listened with eyes raised to the Apostle, and every head was\nturned toward him, while he told something in an undertone. Vinicius\ngazed at Peter with a certain superstitious awe, hardly inferior to that\nterror which he felt during the fever dream. The thought passed through\nhis mind that that dream had touched truth; that the gray-haired man\nthere, freshly come from distant shores, would take Lygia from him\nreally, and take her somewhere away by unknown paths. He felt sure also\nthat the old man was speaking of him, perhaps telling how to separate\nhim from Lygia, for it seemed to him impossible that any one could speak\nof aught else. Hence, collecting all his presence of mind, he listened\nto Peter's words.\n\nBut he was mistaken altogether, for the Apostle was speaking of Christ\nagain.\n\n\"They live only through that name,\" thought Vinicius.\n\nThe old man was describing the seizure of Christ. \"A company came, and\nservants of the priest to seize Him. When the Saviour asked whom they\nwere seeking, they answered, 'Jesus of Nazareth.' But when He said to\nthem, 'I am He,' they fell on the ground, and dared not raise a hand on\nHim. Only after the second inquiry did they seize Him.\"\n\nHere the Apostle stopped, stretched his hands toward the fire and\ncontinued:--\"The night was cold, like this one, but the heart in me\nwas seething; so, drawing a sword to defend Him, I cut an ear from the\nservant of the high-priest. I would have defended Him more than my own\nlife had He not said to me, 'Put thy sword into the sheath: the cup\nwhich my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?' Then they seized\nand bound Him.\"\n\nWhen he had spoken thus far, Peter placed his palm on his forehead,\nand was silent, wishing before he went further to stop the crowd of\nhis recollections. But Ursus, unable to restrain himself, sprang to his\nfeet, trimmed the light on the staff till the sparks scattered in\ngolden rain and the flame shot up with more vigor. Then he sat down, and\nexclaimed:\n\n\"No matter what happened. I--\"\n\nHe stopped suddenly, for Lygia had put her finger to her lips. But he\nbreathed loudly, and it was clear that a storm was in his soul; and\nthough he was ready at all times to kiss the feet of the Apostle, that\nact was one he could not accept; if some one in his presence had raised\nhands on the Redeemer, if he had been with Him on that night--Oi!\nsplinters would have shot from the soldiers, the servants of the priest,\nand the officials. Tears came to his eyes at the very thought of this,\nand because of his sorrow and mental struggle; for on the one hand he\nthought that he would not only have defended the Redeemer, but would\nhave called Lygians to his aid,--splendid fellows,--and on the other, if\nhe had acted thus he would have disobeyed the Redeemer, and hindered the\nsalvation of man. For this reason he could not keep back his tears.\n\nAfter a while Peter took his palm from his forehead, and resumed the\nnarrative. But Vinicius was overpowered by a new feverish, waking dream.\nWhat he heard now was in his mind mixed up with what the Apostle had\ntold the night previous in Ostrianum, of that day in which Christ\nappeared on the shore of the sea of Tiberius. He saw a sheet of water\nbroadly spread out; on it the boat of a fisherman, and in the boat Peter\nand Lygia. He himself was moving with all his might after that boat, but\npain in his broken arm prevented him from reaching it. The wind hurled\nwaves in his eyes, he began to sink, and called with entreating voice\nfor rescue. Lygia knelt down then before the Apostle, who turned his\nboat, and reached an oar, which Vinicius seized: with their assistance\nhe entered the boat and fell on the bottom of it.\n\nIt seemed to him, then, that he stood up, and saw a multitude of people\nsailing after them. Waves covered their heads with foam; in the whirl\nonly the hands of a few could be seen; but Peter saved the drowning time\nafter time, and gathered them into his boat, which grew larger, as if\nby a miracle. Soon crowds filled it, as numerous as those which were\ncollected in Ostrianum, and then still greater crowds. Vinicius wondered\nhow they could find place there, and he was afraid that they would sink\nto the bottom. But Lygia pacified him by showing him a light on the\ndistant shore toward which they were sailing. These dream pictures of\nVinicius were blended again with descriptions which he had heard in\nOstrianum, from the lips of the Apostle, as to how Christ had appeared\non the lake once. So that he saw now in that light on the shore a\ncertain form toward which Peter was steering, and as he approached\nit the weather grew calmer, the water grew smoother, the light became\ngreater. The crowd began to sing sweet hymns; the air was filled with\nthe odor of nard; the play of water formed a rainbow, as if from the\nbottom of the lake lilies and roses were looking, and at last the boat\nstruck its breast safely against the sand. Lygia took his hand then, and\nsaid, \"Come, I will lead thee!\" and she led him to the light.\n\nVinicius woke again; but his dreaming ceased slowly, and he did not\nrecover at once the sense of reality. It seemed for a time to him that\nhe was still on the lake, and surrounded by crowds, among which, not\nknowing the reason himself, he began to look for Petronius, and was\nastonished not to find him. The bright light from the chimney, at which\nthere was no one at that time, brought him completely to his senses.\nOlive sticks were burning slowly under the rosy ashes; but the splinters\nof pine, which evidently had been put there some moments before, shot\nup a bright flame, and in the light of this, Vinicius saw Lygia, sitting\nnot far from his bedside.\n\nThe sight of her touched him to the depth of his soul. He remembered\nthat she had spent the night before in Ostrianum, and had busied herself\nthe whole day in nursing him, and now when all had gone to rest, she was\nthe only one watching. It was easy to divine that she must be wearied,\nfor while sitting motionless her eyes were closed. Vinicius knew not\nwhether she was sleeping or sunk in thought. He looked at her profile,\nat her drooping lashes, at her hands lying on her knees; and in his\npagan head the idea began to hatch with difficulty that at the side of\nnaked beauty, confident, and proud of Greek and Roman symmetry, there\nis another in the world, new, immensely pure, in which a soul has its\ndwelling.\n\nHe could not bring himself so far as to call it Christian, but,\nthinking of Lygia, he could not separate her from the religion which she\nconfessed. He understood, even, that if all the others had gone to rest,\nand she alone were watching, she whom he had injured, it was because her\nreligion commanded her to watch. But that thought, which filled him with\nwonder for the religion, was disagreeable to him. He would rather that\nLygia acted thus out of love for him, his face, his eyes, his statuesque\nform,--in a word for reasons because of which more than once snow-white\nGrecian and Roman arms had been wound around his neck.\n\nStill he felt all at once, that, were she like other women, something\nwould be lacking in her. He was amazed, and knew not what was happening\nin him; for he saw that new feelings of some kind were rising in him,\nnew likings, strange to the world in which he had lived hitherto.\n\nShe opened her eyes then, and, seeing that Vinicius was gazing at her,\nshe approached him and said,--\"I am with thee.\"\n\n\"I saw thy soul in a dream,\" replied he.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVI\n\n\nNEXT morning he woke up weak, but with a cool head and free of fever. It\nseemed to him that a whispered conversation had roused him; but when\nhe opened his eyes, Lygia was not there. Ursus, stooping before the\nchimney, was raking apart the gray ashes, and seeking live coals beneath\nthem. When he found some, he began to blow, not with his mouth, but as\nit were with the bellows of a blacksmith. Vinicius, remembering how that\nman had crushed Croton the day before, examined with attention befitting\na lover of the arena his gigantic back, which resembled the back of a\nCyclops, and his limbs strong as columns.\n\n\"Thanks to Mercury that my neck was not broken by him,\" thought\nVinicius. \"By Pollux! if the other Lygians are like this one, the\nDanubian legions will have heavy work some time!\"\n\nBut aloud he said, \"Hei, slave!\"\n\nUrsus drew his head out of the chimney, and, smiling in a manner almost\nfriendly, said,--\"God give thee a good day, lord, and good health; but I\nam a free man, not a slave.\"\n\nOn Vinicius who wished to question Ursus touching Lygia's birthplace,\nthese words produced a certain pleasant impression; for discourse with\na free though a common man was less disagreeable to his Roman and\npatrician pride, than with a slave, in whom neither law nor custom\nrecognized human nature.\n\n\"Then thou dost not belong to Aulus?\" asked he.\n\n\"No, lord, I serve Callina, as I served her mother, of my own will.\"\n\nHere he hid his head again in the chimney, to blow the coals, on which\nhe had placed some wood. When he had finished, he took it out and\nsaid,--\"With us there are no slaves.\"\n\n\"Where is Lygia?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"She has gone out, and I am to cook food for thee. She watched over thee\nthe whole night.\"\n\n\"Why didst thou not relieve her?\"\n\n\"Because she wished to watch, and it is for me to obey.\" Here his eyes\ngrew gloomy, and after a while he added:\n\n\"If I had disobeyed her, thou wouldst not be living.\"\n\n\"Art thou sorry for not having killed me?\"\n\n\"No, lord. Christ has not commanded us to kill.\"\n\n\"But Atacinus and Croton?\"\n\n\"I could not do otherwise,\" muttered Ursus. And he looked with regret\non his hands, which had remained pagan evidently, though his soul\nhad accepted the cross. Then he put a pot on the crane, and fixed his\nthoughtful eyes on the fire.\n\n\"That was thy fault, lord,\" said he at last. \"Why didst thou raise thy\nhand against her, a king's daughter?\"\n\nPride boiled up, at the first moment, in Vinicius, because a common man\nand a barbarian had not merely dared to speak to him thus familiarly,\nbut to blame him in addition. To those uncommon and improbable things\nwhich had met him since yesterday, was added another. But being weak and\nwithout his slaves, he restrained himself, especially since a wish to\nlearn some details of Lygia's life gained the upper hand in him.\n\nWhen he had calmed himself, therefore, he inquired about the war of the\nLygians against Vannius and the Suevi. Ursus was glad to converse, but\ncould not add much that was new to what in his time Aulus Plautius had\ntold. Ursus had not been in battle, for he had attended the hostages to\nthe camp of Atelius Hister. He knew only that the Lygians had beaten the\nSuevi and the Yazygi, but that their leader and king had fallen from\nthe arrows of the Yazygi. Immediately after they received news that the\nSemnones had set fire to forests on their boundaries, they returned in\nhaste to avenge the wrong, and the hostages remained with Atelius, who\nordered at first to give them kingly honors. Afterward Lygia's mother\ndied. The Roman commander knew not what to do with the child. Ursus\nwished to return with her to their own country, but the road was unsafe\nbecause of wild beasts and wild tribes. When news came that an\nembassy of Lygians had visited Pomponius, offering him aid against the\nMarcomani, Hister sent him with Lygia to Pomponius. When they came to\nhim they learned, however, that no ambassadors had been there, and in\nthat way they remained in the camp; whence Pomponius took them to Rome,\nand at the conclusion of his triumph he gave the king's daughter to\nPomponia Græcina.\n\nThough only certain small details of this narrative had been unknown to\nVinicius, he listened with pleasure, for his enormous pride of family\nwas pleased that an eye-witness had confirmed Lygia's royal descent. As\na king's daughter she might occupy a position at Cæsar's court equal to\nthe daughters of the very first families, all the more since the nation\nwhose ruler her father had been, had not warred with Rome so far, and,\nthough barbarian, it might become terrible; for, according to Atelius\nHister himself, it possessed an immense force of warriors. Ursus,\nmoreover, confirmed this completely.\n\n\"We live in the woods,\" said he, in answer to Vinicius, \"but we have so\nmuch land that no man knows where the end is, and there are many people\non it. There are also wooden towns in the forest, in which there is\ngreat plenty; for what the Semnones, the Marcomani, the Vandals, and the\nQuadi plunder through the world, we take from them. They dare not come\nto us; but when the wind blows from their side, they burn our forests.\nWe fear neither them nor the Roman Cæsar.\"\n\n\"The gods gave Rome dominion over the earth,\" said Vinicius severely.\n\n\"The gods are evil spirits,\" replied Ursus, with simplicity, \"and where\nthere are no Romans, there is no supremacy.\"\n\nHere he fixed the fire, and said, as if to himself,--\"When Cæsar took\nCallina to the palace, and I thought that harm might meet her, I wanted\nto go to the forest and bring Lygians to help the king's daughter. And\nLygians would have moved toward the Danube, for they are virtuous people\nthough pagan. There I should have given them 'good tidings.' But as it\nis, if ever Callina returns to Pomponia Græcina I will bow down to her\nfor permission to go to them; for Christus was born far away, and they\nhave not even heard of Him. He knew better than I where He should be\nborn; but if He had come to the world with us, in the forests, we would\nnot have tortured Him to death, that is certain. We would have taken\ncare of the Child, and guarded Him, so that never should He want for\ngame, mushrooms, beaver-skins, or amber. And what we plundered from the\nSuevi and the Marcomani we would have given Him, so that He might have\ncomfort and plenty.\"\n\nThus speaking, he put near the fire the vessel with food for Vinicius,\nand was silent. His thoughts wandered evidently, for a time yet, through\nthe Lygian wildernesses, till the liquid began to boil; then he poured\nit into a shallow plate, and, cooling it properly, said,--\"Glaucus\nadvises thee, lord, to move even thy sound arm as little as possible;\nCallina has commanded me to give thee food.\"\n\nLygia commanded! There was no answer to that. It did not even come to\nVinicius's head to oppose her will, just as if she had been the daughter\nof Cæsar or a goddess. He uttered not a word, therefore; and Ursus,\nsitting near his bed, took out the liquid with a small cup, and put it\nto his mouth. He did this so carefully, and with such a kindly smile,\nthat Vinicius could not believe his own eyes, could not think him the\nsame terrible Titan who the day before had crushed Croton, and, rushing\non him like a storm, would have torn him to pieces but for Lygia's pity.\nThe young patrician, for the first time in life, began to ponder over\nthis: What can take place in the breast of a simple man, a barbarian,\nand a servant?\n\nBut Ursus proved to be a nurse as awkward as painstaking; the cup was\nlost among his herculean fingers so completely that there was no place\nleft for the mouth of the sick man. After a few fruitless efforts the\ngiant was troubled greatly, and said,--\"Li! it would be easier to lead\nan aurochs out of a snare.\"\n\nThe anxiety of the Lygian amused Vinicius, but his remark did not\ninterest him less. He had seen in circuses the terrible urus, brought\nfrom wildernesses of the north, against which the most daring bestiarii\nwent with dread, and which yielded only to elephants in size and\nstrength.\n\n\"Hast thou tried to take such beasts by the horns?\" inquired he, with\nastonishment.\n\n\"Till the twentieth winter passed over me, I was afraid,\" answered\nUrsus; \"but after that it happened.\"\n\nAnd he began to feed Vinicius still more awkwardly than before.\n\n\"I must ask Miriam or Nazarius,\" said he.\n\nBut now Lygia's pale face appeared from behind the curtain.\n\n\"I will assist directly,\" said she. And after a while she came from the\ncubiculum, in which she had been preparing to sleep, as it seemed,\nfor she was in a single close tunic, called by the ancients capitium,\ncovering the breast completely, and her hair was unbound. Vinicius,\nwhose heart beat with more quickness at sight of her, began to upbraid\nher for not thinking of sleep yet; but she answered joyously,--\"I was\njust preparing to sleep, but first I will take the place of Ursus.\"\n\nShe took the cup, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, began to give\nfood to Vinicius, who felt at once overcome and delighted. When she\ninclined toward him, the warmth of her body struck him, and her unbound\nhair fell on his breast. He grew pale from the impression; but in the\nconfusion and impulse of desires he felt also that that was a head dear\nabove all and magnified above all, in comparison with which the whole\nworld was nothing. At first he had desired her; now he began to love her\nwith a full breast. Before that, as generally in life and in feeling, he\nhad been, like all people of that time, a blind, unconditional egotist,\nwho thought only of himself; at present he began to think of her.\n\nAfter a while, therefore, he refused further nourishment; and though he\nfound inexhaustible delight in her presence and in looking at her, he\nsaid,--\"Enough! Go to rest, my divine one.\"\n\n\"Do not address me in that way,\" answered Lygia; \"it is not proper for\nme to hear such words.\"\n\nShe smiled at him, however, and said that sleep had fled from her, that\nshe felt no toil, that she would not go to rest till Glaucus came.\nHe listened to her words as to music; his heart rose with increasing\ndelight, increasing gratitude, and his thought was struggling to show\nher that gratitude.\n\n\"Lygia,\" said he, after a moment of silence, \"I did not know thee\nhitherto. But I know now that I wished to attain thee by a false way;\nhence I say, return to Pomponia Græcina, and be assured that in future\nno hand will be raised against thee.\"\n\nHer face became sad on a sudden. \"I should be happy,\" answered she,\n\"could I look at her, even from a distance; but I cannot return to her\nnow.\"\n\n\"Why?\" inquired Vinicius, with astonishment.\n\n\"We Christians know, through Acte, what is done on the Palatine. Hast\nthou not heard that Cæsar, soon after my flight and before his departure\nfor Naples, summoned Aulus and Pomponia, and, thinking that they had\nhelped me, threatened them with his anger? Fortunately Aulus was able to\nsay to him, 'Thou knowest, lord, that a lie has never passed my lips;\nI swear to thee now that we did not help her to escape, and we do not\nknow, as thou dost not, what has happened to her.' Cæsar believed, and\nafterward forgot. By the advice of the elders I have never written to\nmother where I am, so that she might take an oath boldly at all times\nthat she has no knowledge of me. Thou wilt not understand this, perhaps,\nO Vinicius; but it is not permitted us to lie, even in a question\ninvolving life. Such is the religion on which we fashion our hearts;\ntherefore I have not seen Pomponia from the hour when I left her house.\nFrom time to time distant echoes barely reach her that I am alive and\nnot in danger.\"\n\nHere a longing seized Lygia, and her eyes were moist with tears; but she\ncalmed herself quickly, and said,--\"I know that Pomponia, too, yearns\nfor me; but we have consolation which others have not.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Vinicius, \"Christ is your consolation, but I do not\nunderstand that.\"\n\n\"Look at us! For us there are no partings, no pains, no sufferings; or\nif they come they are turned into pleasure. And death itself, which for\nyou is the end of life, is for us merely its beginning,--the exchange of\na lower for a higher happiness, a happiness less calm for one calmer and\neternal. Consider what must a religion be which enjoins on us love even\nfor our enemies, forbids falsehood, purifies our souls from hatred, and\npromises happiness inexhaustible after death.\"\n\n\"I heard those teachings in Ostrianum, and I have seen how ye acted with\nme and with Chilo; when I remember your deeds, they are like a dream,\nand it seems to me that I ought not to believe my ears or eyes. But\nanswer me this question: Art thou happy?\"\n\n\"I am,\" answered Lygia. \"One who confesses Christ cannot be unhappy.\"\nVinicius looked at her, as though what she said passed every measure of\nhuman understanding.\n\n\"And hast thou no wish to return to Pomponia?\"\n\n\"I should like, from my whole soul, to return to her; and shall return,\nif such be God's will.\"\n\n\"I say to thee, therefore, return; and I swear by my lares that I will\nnot raise a hand against thee.\"\n\nLygia thought for a moment, and answered,--\"No, I cannot expose\nthose near me to danger. Cæsar does not like the Plautiuses. Should\nI return--thou knowest how every news is spread throughout Rome by\nslaves--my return would be noised about in the city. Nero would hear of\nit surely through his slaves, and punish Aulus and Pomponia,--at least\ntake me from them a second time.\"\n\n\"True,\" answered Vinicius, frowning, \"that would be possible. He would\ndo so, even to show that his will must be obeyed. It is true that he\nonly forgot thee, or would remember thee, because the loss was not his,\nbut mine. Perhaps, if he took thee from Aulus and Pomponia, he would\nsend thee to me and I could give thee back to them.\"\n\n\"Vinicius, wouldst thou see me again on the Palatine?\" inquired Lygia.\n\nHe set his teeth, and answered,--\"No. Thou art right. I spoke like a\nfool! No!\"\n\nAnd all at once he saw before him a precipice, as it were without\nbottom. He was a patrician, a military tribune, a powerful man; but\nabove every power of that world to which he belonged was a madman whose\nwill and malignity it was impossible to foresee. Only such people as the\nChristians might cease to reckon with Nero or fear him,--people for whom\nthis whole world, with its separations and sufferings, was as nothing;\npeople for whom death itself was as nothing. All others had to\ntremble before him. The terrors of the time in which they lived showed\nthemselves to Vinicius in all their monstrous extent. He could not\nreturn Lygia to Aulus and Pomponia, then, through fear that the monster\nwould remember her, and turn on her his anger; for the very same reason,\nif he should take her as wife, he might expose her, himself, and Aulus.\nA moment of ill-humor was enough to ruin all. Vinicius felt, for\nthe first time in life, that either the world must change and be\ntransformed, or life would become impossible altogether. He understood\nalso this, which a moment before had been dark to him, that in such\ntimes only Christians could be happy.\n\nBut above all, sorrow seized him, for he understood, too, that it was\nhe who had so involved his own life and Lygia's that out of the\ncomplication there was scarcely an outcome. And under the influence of\nthat sorrow he began to speak:\n\n\"Dost thou know that thou art happier than I? Thou art in poverty, and\nin this one chamber, among simple people, thou hast thy religion and thy\nChrist; but I have only thee, and when I lacked thee I was like a beggar\nwithout a roof above him and without bread. Thou art dearer to me than\nthe whole world. I sought thee, for I could not live without thee. I\nwished neither feasts nor sleep. Had it not been for the hope of finding\nthee, I should have cast myself on a sword. But I fear death, for if\ndead I could not see thee. I speak the pure truth in saying that I shall\nnot be able to live without thee. I have lived so far only in the hope\nof finding and beholding thee. Dost thou remember our conversations at\nthe house of Aulus? Once thou didst draw a fish for me on the sand, and\nI knew not what its meaning was. Dost thou remember how we played ball?\nI loved thee then above life, and thou hadst begun already to divine\nthat I loved thee. Aulus came, frightened us with Libitina, and\ninterrupted our talk. Pomponia, at parting, told Petronius that God is\none, all-mighty and all-merciful, but it did not even occur to us that\nChrist was thy God and hers. Let Him give thee to me and I will love\nHim, though He seems to me a god of slaves, foreigners, and beggars.\nThou sittest near me, and thinkest of Him only. Think of me too, or I\nshall hate Him. For me thou alone art a divinity. Blessed be thy father\nand mother; blessed the land which produced thee! I should wish to\nembrace thy feet and pray to thee, give thee honor, homage, offerings,\nthou thrice divine! Thou knowest not, or canst not know, how I love\nthee.\"\n\nThus speaking, he placed his hand on his pale forehead and closed his\neyes. His nature never knew bounds in love or anger. He spoke with\nenthusiasm, like a man who, having lost self-control, has no wish to\nobserve any measure in words or feelings. But he spoke from the depth\nof his soul, and sincerely. It was to be felt that the pain, ecstasy,\ndesire, and homage accumulated in his breast had burst forth at last\nin an irresistible torrent of words. To Lygia his words appeared\nblasphemous, but still her heart began to beat as if it would tear the\ntunic enclosing her bosom. She could not resist pity for him and his\nsuffering. She was moved by the homage with which he spoke to her. She\nfelt beloved and deified without bounds; she felt that that unbending\nand dangerous man belonged to her now, soul and body, like a slave;\nand that feeling of his submission and her own power filled her with\nhappiness. Her recollections revived in one moment. He was for her again\nthat splendid Vinicius, beautiful as a pagan god; he, who in the house\nof Aulus had spoken to her of love, and roused as if from sleep her\nheart half childlike at that time; he from whose embraces Ursus had\nwrested her on the Palatine, as he might have wrested her from flames.\nBut at present, with ecstasy, and at the same time with pain in his\neagle face, with pale forehead and imploring eyes,--wounded, broken by\nlove, loving, full of homage and submissive,--he seemed to her such as\nshe would have wished him, and such as she would have loved with her\nwhole soul, therefore dearer than he had ever been before.\n\nAll at once she understood that a moment might come in which his love\nwould seize her and bear her away, as a whirlwind; and when she felt\nthis, she had the same impression that he had a moment before,--that she\nwas standing on the edge of a precipice. Was it for this that she had\nleft the house of Aulus? Was it for this that she had saved herself by\nflight? Was it for this that she had hidden so long in wretched parts of\nthe city? Who was that Vinicius? An Augustian, a soldier, a courtier of\nNero! Moreover he took part in his profligacy and madness, as was shown\nby that feast, which she could not forget; and he went with others\nto the temples, and made offerings to vile gods, in whom he did not\nbelieve, perhaps, but still he gave them official honor. Still more he\nhad pursued her to make her his slave and mistress, and at the same time\nto thrust her into that terrible world of excess, luxury, crime, and\ndishonor which calls for the anger and vengeance of God. He seemed\nchanged, it is true, but still he had just said to her that if she would\nthink more of Christ than of him, he was ready to hate Christ. It seemed\nto Lygia that the very idea of any other love than the love of Christ\nwas a sin against Him and against religion. When she saw then that other\nfeelings and desires might be roused in the depth of her soul, she was\nseized by alarm for her own future and her own heart.\n\nAt this moment of internal struggle appeared Glaucus, who had come to\ncare for the patient and study his health. In the twinkle of an eye,\nanger and impatience were reflected on the face of Vinicius. He was\nangry that his conversation with Lygia had been interrupted; and when\nGlaucus questioned him, he answered with contempt almost. It is true\nthat he moderated himself quickly; but if Lygia had any illusions as\nto this,--that what he had heard in Ostrianum might have acted on his\nunyielding nature,--those illusions must vanish. He had changed only\nfor her; but beyond that single feeling there remained in his breast the\nformer harsh and selfish heart, truly Roman and wolfish, incapable not\nonly of the sweet sentiment of Christian teaching but even of gratitude.\n\nShe went away at last filled with internal care and anxiety. Formerly in\nher prayers she had offered to Christ a heart calm, and really pure as\na tear. Now that calmness was disturbed. To the interior of the flower a\npoisonous insect had come and began to buzz. Even sleep, in spite of the\ntwo nights passed without sleep, brought her no relief. She dreamed\nthat at Ostrianum Nero, at the head of a whole band of Augustians,\nbacchantes, corybantes, and gladiators, was trampling crowds of\nChristians with his chariot wreathed in roses; and Vinicius seized her\nby the arm, drew her to the quadriga, and, pressing her to his bosom,\nwhispered \"Come with us.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVII\n\n\nFROM that moment Lygia showed herself more rarely in the common chamber,\nand approached his couch less frequently. But peace did not return to\nher. She saw that Vinicius followed her with imploring glance; that he\nwas waiting for every word of hers, as for a favor; that he suffered and\ndared not complain, lest he might turn her away from him; that she alone\nwas his health and delight. And then her heart swelled with compassion.\nSoon she observed, too, that the more she tried to avoid him, the more\ncompassion she had for him; and by this itself the more tender were the\nfeelings which rose in her. Peace left her. At times she said to herself\nthat it was her special duty to be near him always, first, because\nthe religion of God commands return of good for evil; second, that by\nconversing with him, she might attract him to the faith. But at the same\ntime conscience told her that she was tempting herself; that only love\nfor him and the charm which he exerted were attracting her, nothing\nelse. Thus she lived in a ceaseless struggle, which was intensified\ndaily. At times it seemed that a kind of net surrounded her, and that in\ntrying to break through it she entangled herself more and more. She had\nalso to confess that for her the sight of him was becoming more needful,\nhis voice was becoming dearer, and that she had to struggle with all her\nmight against the wish to sit at his bedside. When she approached him,\nand he grew radiant, delight filled her heart. On a certain day she\nnoticed traces of tears on his eyelids, and for the first time in life\nthe thought came to her, to dry them with kisses. Terrified by that\nthought, and full of self-contempt, she wept all the night following.\n\nHe was as enduring as if he had made a vow of patience. When at moments\nhis eyes flashed with petulance, self-will, and anger, he restrained\nthose flashes promptly, and looked with alarm at her, as if to implore\npardon. This acted still more on her. Never had she such a feeling of\nbeing greatly loved as then; and when she thought of this, she felt at\nonce guilty and happy. Vinicius, too, had changed essentially. In his\nconversations with Glaucus there was less pride. It occurred to him\nfrequently that even that poor slave physician and that foreign woman,\nold Miriam, who surrounded him with attention, and Crispus, whom he saw\nabsorbed in continual prayer, were still human. He was astonished at\nsuch thoughts, but he had them. After a time he conceived a liking for\nUrsus, with whom he conversed entire days; for with him he could talk\nabout Lygia. The giant, on his part, was inexhaustible in narrative, and\nwhile performing the most simple services for the sick man, he began to\nshow him also some attachment. For Vinicius, Lygia had been at all times\na being of another order, higher a hundred times than those around her:\nnevertheless, he began to observe simple and poor people,--a thing which\nhe had never done before,--and he discovered in them various traits the\nexistence of which he had never suspected.\n\nNazarius, however, he could not endure, for it seemed to him that the\nyoung lad had dared to fall in love with Lygia. He had restrained his\naversion for a long time, it is true; but once when he brought her two\nquails, which he had bought in the market with his own earned money, the\ndescendant of the Quirites spoke out in Vinicius, for whom one who had\nwandered in from a strange people had less worth than the meanest worm.\nWhen he heard Lygia's thanks, he grew terribly pale; and when Nazarius\nwent out to get water for the birds, he said,--\"Lygia, canst thou endure\nthat he should give thee gifts? Dost thou not know that the Greeks call\npeople of his nation Jewish dogs?\"\n\n\"I do not know what the Greeks call them; but I know that Nazarius is a\nChristian and my brother.\"\n\nWhen she had said this she looked at Vinicius with astonishment and\nregret, for he had disaccustomed her to similar outbursts; and he set\nhis teeth, so as not to tell her that he would have given command to\nbeat such a brother with sticks, or would have sent him as a compeditus\n[A man who labors with chained feet] to dig earth in his Sicilian\nvineyards. He restrained himself, however, throttled the anger within\nhim, and only after a while did he say,--\"Pardon me, Lygia. For me thou\nart the daughter of a king and the adopted child of Plautius.\" And\nhe subdued himself to that degree that when Nazarius appeared in the\nchamber again, he promised him, on returning to his villa, the gift of a\npair of peacocks or flamingoes, of which he had a garden full.\n\nLygia understood what such victories over himself must have cost him;\nbut the oftener he gained them the more her heart turned to him. His\nmerit with regard to Nazarius was less, however, than she supposed.\nVinicius might be indignant for a moment, but he could not be jealous of\nhim. In fact the son of Miriam did not, in his eyes, mean much more than\na dog; besides, he was a child yet, who, if he loved Lygia, loved her\nunconsciously and servilely. Greater struggles must the young tribune\nhave with himself to submit, even in silence, to that honor with which\namong those people the name of Christ and His religion was surrounded.\nIn this regard wonderful things took place in Vinicius. That was in\nevery case a religion which Lygia believed; hence for that single reason\nhe was ready to receive it. Afterward, the more he returned to health,\nthe more he remembered the whole series of events which had happened\nsince that night at Ostrianum, and the whole series of thoughts which\nhad come to his head from that time, the more he was astonished at the\nsuperhuman power of that religion which changed the souls of men\nto their foundations. He understood that in it there was something\nuncommon, something which had not been on earth before, and he felt that\ncould it embrace the whole world, could it ingraft on the world its love\nand charity, an epoch would come recalling that in which not Jupiter,\nbut Saturn had ruled. He did not dare either to doubt the supernatural\norigin of Christ, or His resurrection, or the other miracles. The\neye-witnesses who spoke of them were too trustworthy and despised\nfalsehood too much to let him suppose that they were telling things that\nhad not happened. Finally, Roman scepticism permitted disbelief in the\ngods, but believed in miracles. Vinicius, therefore, stood before a\nkind of marvellous puzzle which he could not solve. On the other hand,\nhowever, that religion seemed to him opposed to the existing state of\nthings, impossible of practice, and mad in a degree beyond all others.\nAccording to him, people in Rome and in the whole world might be bad,\nbut the order of things was good. Had Cæsar, for example, been an honest\nman, had the Senate been composed, not of insignificant libertines,\nbut of men like Thrasea, what more could one wish? Nay, Roman peace and\nsupremacy were good; distinction among people just and proper. But that\nreligion, according to the understanding of Vinicius, would destroy all\norder, all supremacy, every distinction. What would happen then to the\ndominion and lordship of Rome? Could the Romans cease to rule, or could\nthey recognize a whole herd of conquered nations as equal to themselves?\nThat was a thought which could find no place in the head of a patrician.\nAs regarded him personally, that religion was opposed to all his ideas\nand habits, his whole character and understanding of life. He was simply\nunable to imagine how he could exist were he to accept it. He feared\nand admired it; but as to accepting it, his nature shuddered at that. He\nunderstood, finally, that nothing save that religion separated him from\nLygia; and when he thought of this, he hated it with all the powers of\nhis soul.\n\nStill he acknowledged to himself that it had adorned Lygia with that\nexceptional, unexplained beauty which in his heart had produced, besides\nlove, respect, besides desire, homage, and had made of that same Lygia\na being dear to him beyond all others in the world. And then he wished\nanew to love Christ. And he understood clearly that he must either love\nor hate Him; he could not remain indifferent. Meanwhile two opposing\ncurrents were as if driving him: he hesitated in thoughts, in feelings;\nhe knew not how to choose, he bowed his head, however, to that God by\nhim uncomprehended, and paid silent honor for this sole reason, that He\nwas Lygia's God.\n\nLygia saw what was happening in him; she saw how he was breaking\nhimself, how his nature was rejecting that religion; and though this\nmortified her to the death, compassion, pity, and gratitude for the\nsilent respect which he showed Christ inclined her heart to him with\nirresistible force. She recalled Pomponia Græcina and Aulus. For\nPomponia a source of ceaseless sorrow and tears that never dried was the\nthought that beyond the grave she would not find Aulus. Lygia began now\nto understand better that pain, that bitterness. She too had found a\nbeing dear to her, and she was threatened by eternal separation from\nthis dear one.\n\nAt times, it is true, she was self-deceived, thinking that his soul\nwould open itself to Christ's teaching; but these illusions could\nnot remain. She knew and understood him too well. Vinicius a\nChristian!--These two ideas could find no place together in her\nunenlightened head. If the thoughtful, discreet Aulus had not become\na Christian under the influence of the wise and perfect Pomponia, how\ncould Vinicius become one? To this there was no answer, or rather there\nwas only one,--that for him there was neither hope nor salvation.\n\nBut Lygia saw with terror that that sentence of condemnation which hung\nover him instead of making him repulsive made him still dearer simply\nthrough compassion. At moments the wish seized her to speak to him of\nhis dark future; but once, when she had sat near him and told him that\noutside Christian truth there was no life, he, having grown stronger\nat that time, rose on his sound arm and placed his head on her knees\nsuddenly. \"Thou art life!\" said he. And that moment breath failed in her\nbreast, presence of mind left her, a certain quiver of ecstasy rushed\nover her from head to feet. Seizing his temples with her hands, she\ntried to raise him, but bent the while so that her lips touched his\nhair; and for a moment both were overcome with delight, with themselves,\nand with love, which urged them the one to the other.\n\nLygia rose at last and rushed away, with a flame in her veins and a\ngiddiness in her head; but that was the drop which overflowed the cup\nfilled already to the brim. Vinicius did not divine how dearly he would\nhave to pay for that happy moment, but Lygia understood that now she\nherself needed rescue. She spent the night after that evening without\nsleep, in tears and in prayer, with the feeling that she was unworthy\nto pray and could not be heard. Next morning she went from the cubiculum\nearly, and, calling Crispus to the garden summer-house, covered with ivy\nand withered vines, opened her whole soul to him, imploring him at the\nsame time to let her leave Miriam's house, since she could not trust\nherself longer, and could not overcome her heart's love for Vinicius.\n\nCrispus, an old man, severe and absorbed in endless enthusiasm,\nconsented to the plan of leaving Miriam's house, but he had no words\nof forgiveness for that love, to his thinking sinful. His heart swelled\nwith indignation at the very thought that Lygia, whom he had guarded\nsince the time of her flight, whom he had loved, whom he had confirmed\nin the faith, and on whom he looked now as a white lily grown up on the\nfield of Christian teaching undefiled by any earthly breath, could have\nfound a place in her soul for love other than heavenly. He had believed\nhitherto that nowhere in the world did there beat a heart more purely\ndevoted to the glory of Christ. He wanted to offer her to Him as\na pearl, a jewel, the precious work of his own hands; hence the\ndisappointment which he felt filled him with grief and amazement.\n\n\"Go and beg God to forgive thy fault,\" said he, gloomily. \"Flee before\nthe evil spirit who involved thee bring thee to utter fall, and before\nthou oppose the Saviour. God died on the cross to redeem thy soul with\nHis blood, but thou hast preferred to love him who wished to make thee\nhis concubine. God saved thee by a miracle of His own hands, but thou\nhast opened thy heart to impure desire, and hast loved the son of\ndarkness. Who is he? The friend and servant of Antichrist, his copartner\nin crime and profligacy. Whither will he lead thee, if not to that abyss\nand to that Sodom in which he himself is living, but which God will\ndestroy with the flame of His anger? But I say to thee, would thou hadst\ndied, would the walls of this house had fallen on thy head before that\nserpent had crept into thy bosom and beslimed it with the poison of\niniquity.\"\n\nAnd he was borne away more and more, for Lygia's fault filled him not\nonly with anger but with loathing and contempt for human nature in\ngeneral, and in particular for women, whom even Christian truth could\nnot save from Eve's weakness. To him it seemed nothing that the maiden\nhad remained pure, that she wished to flee from that love, that she\nhad confessed it with compunction and penitence. Crispus had wished\nto transform her into an angel, to raise her to heights where love for\nChrist alone existed, and she had fallen in love with an Augustian. The\nvery thought of that filled his heart with horror, strengthened by a\nfeeling of disillusion and disappointment. No, no, he could not forgive\nher. Words of horror burned his lips like glowing coals; he struggled\nstill with himself not to utter them, but he shook his emaciated hands\nover the terrified girl. Lygia felt guilty, but not to that degree. She\nhad judged even that withdrawal from Miriam's house would be her victory\nover temptation, and would lessen her fault. Crispus rubbed her into the\ndust; showed her all the misery and insignificance of her soul, which\nshe had not suspected hitherto. She had judged even that the old\npresbyter, who from the moment of her flight from the Palatine had been\nto her as a father, would show some compassion, console her, give her\ncourage, and strengthen her.\n\n\"I offer my pain and disappointment to God,\" said he, \"but thou hast\ndeceived the Saviour also, for thou hast gone as it were to a quagmire\nwhich has poisoned thy soul with its miasma. Thou mightst have offered\nit to Christ as a costly vessel, and said to Him, 'Fill it with grace,\nO Lord!' but thou hast preferred to offer it to the servant of the evil\none. May God forgive thee and have mercy on thee; for till thou cast out\nthe serpent, I who held thee as chosen-\"\n\nBut he ceased suddenly to speak, for he saw that they were not alone.\nThrough the withered vines and the ivy, which was green alike in summer\nand winter, he saw two men, one of whom was Peter the Apostle. The\nother he was unable to recognize at once, for a mantle of coarse woollen\nstuff, called cilicium, concealed a part of his face. It seemed to\nCrispus for a moment that that was Chilo.\n\nThey, hearing the loud voice of Crispus, entered the summer-house and\nsat on a stone bench. Peter's companion had an emaciated face; his head,\nwhich was growing bald, was covered at the sides with curly hair; he had\nreddened eyelids and a crooked nose; in the face, ugly and at the same\ntime inspired, Crispus recognized the features of Paul of Tarsus.\n\nLygia, casting herself on her knees, embraced Peter's feet, as if from\ndespair, and, sheltering her tortured head in the fold of his mantle,\nremained thus in silence.\n\n\"Peace to your souls!\" said Peter.\n\nAnd seeing the child at his feet he asked what had happened. Crispus\nbegan then to narrate all that Lygia had confessed to him,--her sinful\nlove, her desire to flee from Miriam's house,--and his sorrow that a\nsoul which he had thought to offer to Christ pure as a tear had defiled\nitself with earthly feelings for a sharer in all those crimes into which\nthe pagan world had sunk, and which called for God's vengeance.\n\nLygia during his speech embraced with increasing force the feet of\nthe Apostle, as if wishing to seek refuge near them, and to beg even a\nlittle compassion.\n\nBut the Apostle, when he had listened to the end, bent down and placed\nhis aged hand on her head; then he raised his eyes to the old presbyter,\nand said,--\"Crispus, hast thou not heard that our beloved Master was in\nCana, at a wedding, and blessed love between man and woman?\"\n\nCrispus's hands dropped, and he looked with astonishment on the speaker,\nwithout power to utter one word. After a moment's silence Peter asked\nagain,--\"Crispus, dost thou think that Christ, who permitted Mary of\nMagdala to lie at his feet, and who forgave the public sinner, would\nturn from this maiden, who is as pure as a lily of the field?\"\n\nLygia nestled up more urgently to the feet of Peter, with sobbing,\nunderstanding that she had not sought refuge in vain. The Apostle raised\nher face, which was covered with tears, and said to her,--\"While the\neyes of him whom thou lovest are not open to the light of truth, avoid\nhim, lest he bring thee to sin, but pray for him, and know that there is\nno sin in thy love. And since it is thy wish to avoid temptation, this\nwill be accounted to thee as a merit. Do not suffer, and do not weep;\nfor I tell thee that the grace of the Redeemer has not deserted thee,\nand that thy prayers will be heard; after sorrow will come days of\ngladness.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he placed both hands on her head, and, raising\nhis eyes, blessed her. From his face there shone a goodness beyond that\nof earth.\n\nThe penitent Crispus began humbly to explain himself; \"I have sinned\nagainst mercy,\" said he; \"but I thought that by admitting to her heart\nan earthly love she had denied Christ.\"\n\n\"I denied Him thrice,\" answered Peter, \"and still He forgave me, and\ncommanded me to feed His sheep.\"\n\n\"And because,\" concluded Crispus, \"Vinicius is an Augustian.\"\n\n\"Christ softened harder hearts than his,\" replied Peter.\n\nThen Paul of Tarsus, who had been silent so far, placed his finger on\nhis breast, pointing to himself, and said,--\"I am he who persecuted\nand hurried servants of Christ to their death; I am he who during the\nstoning of Stephen kept the garments of those who stoned him; I am he\nwho wished to root out the truth in every part of the inhabited earth,\nand yet the Lord predestined me to declare it in every land. I have\ndeclared it in Judea, in Greece, on the Islands, and in this godless\ncity, where first I resided as a prisoner. And now when Peter, my\nsuperior, has summoned me, I enter this house to bend that proud head to\nthe feet of Christ, and cast a grain of seed in that stony field,\nwhich the Lord will fertilize, so that it may bring forth a bountiful\nharvest.\"\n\nAnd he rose. To Crispus that diminutive hunchback seemed then that\nwhich he was in reality,--a giant, who was to stir the world to its\nfoundations and gather in lands and nations.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVIII\n\n\nPETRONIUS to VINICIUS:--\"Have pity, carissime; imitate not in thy\nletters the Lacedemonians or Julius Cæsar! Couldst thou, like Julius,\nwrite Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered), I might understand\nthy brevity. But thy letter means absolutely Veni, vidi, fugi (I came, I\nsaw, I fled). Since such a conclusion of the affair is directly opposed\nto thy nature, since thou art wounded, and since, finally, uncommon\nthings are happening to thee, thy letter needs explanation. I could\nnot believe my eyes when I read that the Lygian giant killed Croton as\neasily as a Caledonian dog would kill a wolf in the defiles of Hibernia.\nThat man is worth as much gold as he himself weighs, and it depends on\nhim alone to become a favorite of Cæsar. When I return to the city,\nI must gain a nearer acquaintance with that Lygian, and have a bronze\nstatue of him made for myself. Ahenobarbus will burst from curiosity,\nwhen I tell him that it is from nature. Bodies really athletic are\nbecoming rarer in Italy and in Greece; of the Orient no mention need be\nmade; the Germans, though large, have muscles covered with fat, and\nare greater in bulk than in strength. Learn from the Lygian if he is an\nexception, or if in his country there are more men like him. Should it\nhappen sometime to thee or me to organize games officially, it would be\nwell to know where to seek for the best bodies.\n\n\"But praise to the gods of the Orient and the Occident that thou hast\ncome out of such hands alive. Thou hast escaped, of course, because\nthou art a patrician, and the son of a consul; but everything which has\nhappened astonishes me in the highest degree,--that cemetery where thou\nwert among the Christians, they, their treatment of thee, the subsequent\nflight of Lygia; finally, that peculiar sadness and disquiet which\nbreathes from thy short letter. Explain, for there are many points\nwhich I cannot understand; and if thou wish the truth, I will tell thee\nplainly, that I understand neither the Christians nor thee nor Lygia.\nWonder not that I, who care for few things on earth except my own\nperson, inquire of thee so eagerly. I have contributed to all this\naffair of thine; hence it is my affair so far. Write soon, for I cannot\nforesee surely when we may meet. In Bronzebeard's head plans change, as\nwinds do in autumn. At present, while tarrying in Beneventum, he has the\nwish to go straightway to Greece, without returning to Rome. Tigellinus,\nhowever, advises him to visit the city even for a time, since the\npeople, yearning overmuch for his person (read 'for games and bread')\nmay revolt. So I cannot tell how it will be. Should Achæa overbalance,\nwe may want to see Egypt. I should insist with all my might on thy\ncoming, for I think that in thy state of mind travelling and our\namusements would be a medicine, but thou mightst not find us. Consider,\nthen, whether in that case repose in thy Sicilian estates would not\nbe preferable to remaining in Rome. Write me minutely of thyself, and\nfarewell. I add no wish this time, except health; for, by Pollux! I know\nnot what to wish thee.\"\n\nVinicius, on receiving this letter, felt at first no desire to reply.\nHe had a kind of feeling that it was not worth while to reply, that an\nanswer would benefit no one in any way, that it would explain nothing.\nDiscontent, and a feeling of the vanity of life, possessed him. He\nthought, moreover, that Petronius would not comprehend him in any case,\nand that something had happened which would remove them from each other.\nHe could not come to an agreement with himself, even. When he returned\nfrom the Trans-Tiber to his splendid \"insula,\" he was exhausted, and\nfound for the first days a certain satisfaction in rest and in the\ncomfort and abundance about him. That satisfaction lasted but a short\ntime, however. He felt soon that he was living in vanity; that all which\nso far had formed the interest of his life either had ceased to exist\nfor him or had shrunk to proportions barely perceptible. He had a\nfeeling as if those ties which hitherto had connected him with life\nhad been cut in his soul, and that no new ones had been formed. At the\nthought that he might go to Beneventum and thence to Achæa, to swim in a\nlife of luxury and wild excess, he had a feeling of emptiness. \"To what\nend? What shall I gain from it?\" These were the first questions which\npassed through his head. And for the first time in life, also, he\nthought that if he went, the conversation of Petronius, his wit, his\nquickness, his exquisite outlining of thought, and his choice of apt\nphrases for every idea might annoy him.\n\nBut solitude, too, had begun to annoy him. All his acquaintances were\nwith Cæsar in Beneventum; so he had to stay at home alone, with a\nhead full of thoughts, and a heart full of feelings which he could not\nanalyze. He had moments, however, in which he judged that if he could\nconverse with some one about everything that took place in him, perhaps\nhe might be able to grasp it all somehow, bring it to order, and\nestimate it better. Under the influence of this hope, and after some\ndays of hesitation, he decided to answer Petronius; and, though not\ncertain that he would send the answer, he wrote it in the following\nwords:--\n\n\"It is thy wish that I write more minutely, agreed then; whether I shall\nbe able to do it more clearly, I cannot tell, for there are many knots\nwhich I know not myself how to loosen. I described to thee my stay among\nthe Christians, and their treatment of enemies, among whom they had a\nright to count both me and Chilo; finally, of the kindness with which\nthey nursed me, and of the disappearance of Lygia. No, my dear friend, I\nwas not spared because of being the son of a consul. Such considerations\ndo not exist for them, since they forgave even Chilo, though I urged\nthem to bury him in the garden. Those are people such as the world has\nnot seen hitherto, and their teaching is of a kind that the world has\nnot heard up to this time. I can say nothing else, and he errs who\nmeasures them with our measure. I tell thee that, if I had been lying\nwith a broken arm in my own house, and if my own peoples, even my own\nfamily, had nursed me, I should have had more comforts, of course, but I\nshould not have received half the care which I found among them.\n\n\"Know this, too, that Lygia is like the others. Had she been my sister\nor my wife, she could not have nursed me more tenderly. Delight filled\nmy heart more than once, for I judged that love alone could inspire the\nlike tenderness. More than once I saw love in her look, in her face;\nand, wilt thou believe me? among those simple people then in that poor\nchamber, which was at once a culina and a triclinium, I felt happier\nthan ever before. No; she was not indifferent to me--and to-day even I\ncannot think that she was. Still that same Lygia left Miriam's dwelling\nin secret because of me. I sit now whole days with my head on my hands,\nand think, Why did she do so? Have I written thee that I volunteered\nto restore her to Aulus? True, she declared that to be impossible at\npresent, because Aulus and Pomponia had gone to Sicily, and because news\nof her return going from house to house, through slaves, would reach the\nPalatine, and Cæsar might take her from Aulus again. But she knew that I\nwould not pursue her longer; that I had left the way of violence; that,\nunable to cease loving her or to live without her, I would bring her\ninto my house through a wreathed door, and seat her on a sacred skin at\nmy hearth. Still she fled! Why? Nothing was threatening her. Did she not\nlove me, she might have rejected me. The day before her flight, I made\nthe acquaintance of a wonderful man, a certain Paul of Tarsus, who spoke\nto me of Christ and His teachings, and spoke with such power that every\nword of his, without his willing it, turns all the foundations of our\nsociety into ashes. That same man visited me after her flight, and said:\n'If God open thy eyes to the light, and take the beam from them as He\ntook it from mine, thou wilt feel that she acted properly; and then,\nperhaps, thou wilt find her.' And now I am breaking my head over these\nwords, as if I had heard them from the mouth of the Pythoness at Delphi.\nI seem to understand something. Though they love people, the Christians\nare enemies of our life, our gods, and our crimes; hence she fled from\nme, as from a man who belongs to our society, and with whom she would\nhave to share a life counted criminal by Christians. Thou wilt say that\nsince she might reject me, she had no need to withdraw. But if she loved\nme? In that case she desired to flee from love. At the very thought of\nthis I wish to send slaves into every alley in Rome, and command them\nto cry throughout the houses, 'Return, Lygia!' But I cease to understand\nwhy she fled. I should not have stopped her from believing in her\nChrist, and would myself have reared an altar to Him in the atrium. What\nharm could one more god do me? Why might I not believe in him,--I who\ndo not believe overmuch in the old gods? I know with full certainty that\nthe Christians do not lie; and they say that he rose from the dead.\nA man cannot rise from the dead. That Paul of Tarsus, who is a Roman\ncitizen, but who, as a Jew, knows the old Hebrew writings, told me that\nthe coming of Christ was promised by prophets for whole thousands of\nyears. All these are uncommon things, but does not the uncommon surround\nus on every side? People have not ceased talking yet of Apollonius of\nTyana. Paul's statement that there is one God, not a whole assembly of\nthem, seems sound to me. Perhaps Seneca is of this opinion, and before\nhim many others. Christ lived, gave Himself to be crucified for the\nsalvation of the world, and rose from the dead. All this is perfectly\ncertain. I do not see, therefore, a reason why I should insist on an\nopposite opinion, or why I should not rear to Him an altar, if I am\nready to rear one to Serapis, for instance. It would not be difficult\nfor me even to renounce other gods, for no reasoning mind believes in\nthem at present. But it seems that all this is not enough yet for\nthe Christians. It is not enough to honor Christ, one must also live\naccording to His teachings; and here thou art on the shore of a sea\nwhich they command thee to wade through.\n\n\"If I promised to do so, they themselves would feel that the promise was\nan empty sound of words. Paul told me so openly. Thou knowest how I love\nLygia, and knowest that there is nothing that I would not do for her.\nStill, even at her wish, I cannot raise Soracte or Vesuvius on my\nshoulders, or place Thrasymene Lake on the palm of my hand, or from\nblack make my eyes blue, like those of the Lygians. If she so desired, I\ncould have the wish, but the change does not lie in my power. I am not\na philosopher, but also I am not so dull as I have seemed, perhaps, more\nthan once to thee. I will state now the following: I know not how the\nChristians order their own lives, but I know that where their religion\nbegins, Roman rule ends, Rome itself ends, our mode of life ends, the\ndistinction between conquered and conqueror, between rich and poor, lord\nand slave, ends, government ends, Cæsar ends, law and all the order\nof the world ends; and in place of those appear Christ, with a certain\nmercy not existent hitherto, and kindness, opposed to human and our\nRoman instincts. It is true that Lygia is more to me than all Rome and\nits lordship; and I would let society vanish could I have her in my\nhouse. But that is another thing. Agreement in words does not satisfy\nthe Christians; a man must feel that their teaching is truth, and not\nhave aught else in his soul. But that, the gods are my witnesses, is\nbeyond me. Dost understand what that means? There is something in my\nnature which shudders at this religion; and were my lips to glorify it,\nwere I to conform to its precepts, my soul and my reason would say that\nI do so through love for Lygia, and that apart from her there is to me\nnothing on earth more repulsive. And, a strange thing, Paul of Tarsus\nunderstands this, and so does that old theurgus Peter, who in spite of\nall his simplicity and low origin is the highest among them, and was\nthe disciple of Christ. And dost thou know what they are doing? They are\npraying for me, and calling down something which they call grace; but\nnothing descends on me, save disquiet, and a greater yearning for Lygia.\n\n\"I have written thee that she went away secretly; but when going she\nleft me a cross which she put together from twigs of boxwood. When I\nwoke up, I found it near my bed. I have it now in the lararium, and I\napproach it yet, I cannot tell why, as if there were something divine in\nit,--that is, with awe and reverence. I love it because her hand bound\nit, and I hate it because it divides us. At times it seems to me that\nthere are enchantments of some kind in all this affair, and that the\ntheurgus, Peter, though he declares himself to be a simple shepherd,\nis greater than Apollonius, and all who preceded him, and that he has\ninvolved us all--Lygia, Pomponia, and me--with them.\n\n\"Thou hast written that in my previous letter disquiet and sadness are\nvisible. Sadness there must be, for I have lost her again, and there\nis disquiet because something has changed in me. I tell thee sincerely,\nthat nothing is more repugnant to my nature than that religion, and\nstill I cannot recognize myself since I met Lygia. Is it enchantment,\nor love? Circe changed people's bodies by touching them, but my soul\nhas been changed. No one but Lygia could have done that, or rather Lygia\nthrough that wonderful religion which she professes. When I returned\nto my house from the Christians, no one was waiting for me. The slaves\nthought that I was in Beneventum, and would not return soon; hence there\nwas disorder in the house. I found the slaves drunk, and a feast, which\nthey were giving themselves, in my triclinium. They had more thought\nof seeing death than me, and would have been less terrified by it.\nThou knowest with what a firm hand I hold my house; all to the last one\ndropped on their knees, and some fainted from terror. But dost thou know\nhow I acted? At the first moment I wished to call for rods and hot iron,\nbut immediately a kind of shame seized me, and, wilt thou lend belief?\na species of pity for those wretched people. Among them are old slaves\nwhom my grandfather, Marcus Vinicius, brought from the Rhine in the\ntime of Augustus. I shut myself up alone in the library, and there came\nstranger thoughts still to my head; namely, that after what I had heard\nand seen among the Christians, it did not become me to act with slaves\nas I had acted hitherto--that they too were people. For a number of days\nthey moved about in mortal terror, in the belief that I was delaying so\nas to invent punishment the more cruel, but I did not punish, and did\nnot punish because I was not able. Summoning them on the third day, I\nsaid, 'I forgive you; strive then with earnest service to correct your\nfault!' They fell on their knees, covering their faces with tears,\nstretching forth their hands with groans, and called me lord and father;\nbut I--with shame do I write this--was equally moved. It seemed to me\nthat at that moment I was looking at the sweet face of Lygia, and her\neyes filled with tears, thanking me for that act. And, proh pudor! I\nfelt that my lips too were moist. Dost know what I will confess to thee?\nThis--that I cannot do without her, that it is ill for me alone, that I\nam simply unhappy, and that my sadness is greater than thou wilt admit.\nBut, as to my slaves, one thing arrested my attention. The forgiveness\nwhich they received not only did not make them insolent, not only did\nnot weaken discipline, but never had fear roused them to such ready\nservice as has gratitude. Not only do they serve, but they seem to vie\nwith one another to divine my wishes. I mention this to thee because,\nwhen, the day before I left the Christians, I told Paul that society\nwould fall apart because of his religion, as a cask without hoops, he\nanswered, 'Love is a stronger hoop than fear.' And now I see that in\ncertain cases his opinion may be right. I have verified it also with\nreferences to clients, who, learning of my return, hurried to salute me.\nThou knowest that I have never been penurious with them; but my father\nacted haughtily with clients on principle, and taught me to treat them\nin like manner. But when I saw their worn mantles and hungry faces, I\nhad a feeling something like compassion. I gave command to bring them\nfood, and conversed besides with them,--called some by name, some I\nasked about their wives and children,--and again in the eyes before me\nI saw tears; again it seemed to me that Lygia saw what I was doing, that\nshe praised and was delighted. Is my mind beginning to wander, or is\nlove confusing my feelings? I cannot tell. But this I do know; I have\na continual feeling that she is looking at me from a distance, and I am\nafraid to do aught that might trouble or offend her.\n\n\"So it is, Caius! but they have changed my soul, and sometimes I feel\nwell for that reason. At times again I am tormented with the thought,\nfor I fear that my manhood and energy are taken from me; that, perhaps,\nI am useless, not only for counsel, for judgment, for feasts, but for\nwar even. These are undoubted enchantments! And to such a degree am I\nchanged that I tell thee this, too, which came to my head when I lay\nwounded: that if Lygia were like Nigidia, Poppæa, Crispinilla, and our\ndivorced women, if she were as vile, as pitiless, and as cheap as they,\nI should not love her as I do at present. But since I love her for that\nwhich divides us, thou wilt divine what a chaos is rising in my soul, in\nwhat darkness I live, how it is that I cannot see certain roads before\nme, and how far I am from knowing what to begin. If life may be compared\nto a spring, in my spring disquiet flows instead of water. I live\nthrough the hope that I shall see her, perhaps, and sometimes it seems\nto me that I shall see her surely. But what will happen to me in a year\nor two years, I know not, and cannot divine. I shall not leave Rome.\nI could not endure the society of the Augustians; and besides, the one\nsolace in my sadness and disquiet is the thought that I am near Lygia,\nthat through Glaucus the physician, who promised to visit me, or through\nPaul of Tarsus, I can learn something of her at times. No; I would not\nleave Rome, even were ye to offer me the government of Egypt. Know also,\nthat I have ordered the sculptor to make a stone monument for Gulo, whom\nI slew in anger. Too late did it come to my mind that he had carried me\nin his arms, and was the first to teach me how to put an arrow on a bow.\nI know not why it was that a recollection of him rose in me which was\nsorrow and reproach. If what I write astonish thee, I reply that it\nastonishes me no less, but I write pure truth.--Farewell.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIX\n\n\nVINICUS received no answer to this letter. Petronius did not write,\nthinking evidently that Cæsar might command a return to Rome any day. In\nfact, news of it was spread in the city, and roused great delight in the\nhearts of the rabble, eager for games with gifts of grain and olives,\ngreat supplies of which had been accumulated in Ostia. Helius, Nero's\nfreedman, announced at last the return in the Senate. But Nero,\nhaving embarked with his court on ships at Misenum, returned slowly,\ndisembarking at coast towns for rest, or exhibitions in theatres. He\nremained between ten and twenty days in Minturna, and even thought\nto return to Naples and wait there for spring, which was earlier than\nusual, and warm. During all this time Vinicius lived shut up in his\nhouse, thinking of Lygia, and all those new things which occupied his\nsoul, and brought to it ideas and feelings foreign to it thus far. He\nsaw, from time to time, only Glaucus the physician, every one of whose\nvisits delighted him, for he could converse with the man about Lygia.\nGlaucus knew not, it is true, where she had found refuge, but he gave\nassurance that the elders were protecting her with watchful care. Once\ntoo, when moved by the sadness of Vinicius, he told him that Peter had\nblamed Crispus for reproaching Lygia with her love. The young patrician,\nhearing this, grew pale from emotion. He had thought more than once that\nLygia was not indifferent to him, but he fell into frequent doubt and\nuncertainty. Now for the first time he heard the confirmation of his\ndesires and hopes from strange lips, and, besides, those of a Christian.\nAt the first moment of gratitude he wished to run to Peter. When he\nlearned, however, that he was not in the city, but teaching in the\nneighborhood, he implored Glaucus to accompany him thither, promising to\nmake liberal gifts to the poor community. It seemed to him, too, that if\nLygia loved him, all obstacles were thereby set aside, as he was ready\nat any moment to honor Christ. Glaucus, though he urged him persistently\nto receive baptism, would not venture to assure him that he would gain\nLygia at once, and said that it was necessary to desire the religion for\nits own sake, through love of Christ, not for other objects. \"One\nmust have a Christian soul, too,\" said he. And Vinicius, though every\nobstacle angered him, had begun to understand that Glaucus, as a\nChristian, said what he ought to say. He had not become clearly\nconscious that one of the deepest changes in his nature was this,--that\nformerly he had measured people and things only by his own selfishness,\nbut now he was accustoming himself gradually to the thought that other\neyes might see differently, other hearts feel differently, and that\njustice did not mean always the same as personal profit.\n\nHe wished often to see Paul of Tarsus, whose discourse made him curious\nand disturbed him. He arranged in his mind arguments to overthrow his\nteaching, he resisted him in thought; still he wished to see him and to\nhear him. Paul, however, had gone to Aricium, and, since the visits of\nGlaucus had become rarer, Vinicius was in perfect solitude. He began\nagain to run through back streets adjoining the Subura, and narrow lanes\nof the Trans-Tiber, in the hope that even from a distance he might see\nLygia. When even that hope failed him, weariness and impatience began to\nrise in his heart. At last the time came when his former nature was felt\nagain mightily, like that onrush of a wave to the shore from which it\nhad receded. It seemed to him that he had been a fool to no purpose,\nthat he had stuffed his head with things which brought sadness, that he\nought to accept from life what it gives. He resolved to forget Lygia, or\nat least to seek pleasure and the use of things aside from her. He felt\nthat this trial, however, was the last, and he threw himself into it\nwith all the blind energy of impulse peculiar to him. Life itself seemed\nto urge him to this course.\n\nTHE APPIAN WAY. From the painting by G. Boulanger.\n\nThe city, torpid and depopulated by winter, began to revive with hope\nof the near coming of Cæsar. A solemn reception was in waiting for him.\nMeanwhile spring was there; the snow on the Alban Hills had vanished\nunder the breath of winds from Africa. Grass-plots in the gardens were\ncovered with violets. The Forums and the Campus Martius were filled with\npeople warmed by a sun of growing heat. Along the Appian Way, the usual\nplace for drives outside the city, a movement of richly ornamented\nchariots had begun. Excursions were made to the Alban Hills. Youthful\nwomen, under pretext of worshipping Juno in Lanuvium, or Diana in\nAricia, left home to seek adventures, society, meetings, and pleasure\nbeyond the city. Here Vinicius saw one day among lordly chariots the\nsplendid car of Chrysothemis, preceded by two Molossian dogs; it was\nsurrounded by a crowd of young men and by old senators, whose position\ndetained them in the city. Chrysothemis, driving four Corsican ponies\nherself, scattered smiles round about, and light strokes of a golden\nwhip; but when she saw Vinicius she reined in her horses, took him into\nher car, and then to a feast at her house, which lasted all night. At\nthat feast Vinicius drank so much that he did not remember when they\ntook him home; he recollected, however, that when Chrysothemis mentioned\nLygia he was offended, and, being drunk, emptied a goblet of Falernian\non her head. When he thought of this in soberness, he was angrier still.\nBut a day later Chrysothemis, forgetting evidently the injury, visited\nhim at his house, and took him to the Appian Way a second time. Then\nshe supped at his house, and confessed that not only Petronius, but his\nlute-player, had grown tedious to her long since, and that her heart was\nfree now. They appeared together for a week, but the relation did not\npromise permanence. After the Falernian incident, however, Lygia's name\nwas never mentioned, but Vinicius could not free himself from thoughts\nof her. He had the feeling always that her eyes were looking at his\nface, and that feeling filled him, as it were, with fear. He suffered,\nand could not escape the thought that he was saddening Lygia, or the\nregret which that thought roused in him. After the first scene of\njealousy which Chrysothemis made because of two Syrian damsels whom he\npurchased, he let her go in rude fashion. He did not cease at once from\npleasure and license, it is true, but he followed them out of spite, as\nit were, toward Lygia. At last he saw that the thought of her did\nnot leave him for an instant; that she was the one cause of his evil\nactivity as well as his good; and that really nothing in the world\noccupied him except her. Disgust, and then weariness, mastered him.\nPleasure had grown loathsome, and left mere reproaches. It seemed to him\nthat he was wretched, and this last feeling filled him with measureless\nastonishment, for formerly he recognized as good everything which\npleased him. Finally, he lost freedom, self-confidence, and fell into\nperfect torpidity, from which even the news of Cæsar's coming could not\nrouse him. Nothing touched him, and he did not visit Petronius till the\nlatter sent an invitation and his litter.\n\nOn seeing his uncle, though greeted with gladness, he replied to his\nquestions unwillingly; but his feelings and thoughts, repressed for a\nlong time, burst forth at last, and flowed from his mouth in a torrent\nof words. Once more he told in detail the history of his search for\nLygia, his life among the Christians, everything which he had heard and\nseen there, everything which had passed through his head and heart; and\nfinally he complained that he had fallen into a chaos, in which were\nlost composure and the gift of distinguishing and judging. Nothing, he\nsaid, attracted him, nothing was pleasing; he did not know what to hold\nto, nor how to act. He was ready both to honor and persecute Christ;\nhe understood the loftiness of His teaching, but he felt also an\nirresistible repugnance to it. He understood that, even should he\npossess Lygia, he would not possess her completely, for he would have to\nshare her with Christ. Finally, he was living as if not living,--without\nhope, without a morrow, without belief in happiness; around him was\ndarkness in which he was groping for an exit, and could not find it.\n\nPetronius, during this narrative, looked at his changed face, at his\nhands, which while speaking he stretched forth in a strange manner, as\nif actually seeking a road in the darkness, and he fell to thinking. All\nat once he rose, and, approaching Vinicius, caught with his fingers the\nhair above his ear.\n\n\"Dost know,\" asked he, \"that thou hast gray hairs on thy temple?\"\n\n\"Perhaps I have,\" answered Vinicius; \"I should not be astonished were\nall my hair to grow white soon.\"\n\nSilence followed. Petronius was a man of sense, and more than once\nhe meditated on the soul of man and on life. In general, life, in the\nsociety in which they both lived, might be happy or unhappy externally,\nbut internally it was at rest. Just as a thunderbolt or an earthquake\nmight overturn a temple, so might misfortune crush a life. In itself,\nhowever, it was composed of simple and harmonious lines, free of\ncomplication. But there was something else in the words of Vinicius, and\nPetronius stood for the first time before a series of spiritual snarls\nwhich no one had straightened out hitherto. He was sufficiently a man of\nreason to feel their importance, but with all his quickness he could\nnot answer the questions put to him. After a long silence, he said at\nlast,--\n\n\"These must be enchantments.\"\n\n\"I too have thought so,\" answered Vinicius; \"more than once it seemed to\nme that we were enchanted, both of us.\"\n\n\"And if thou,\" said Petronius, \"were to go, for example, to the priests\nof Serapis? Among them, as among priests in general, there are many\ndeceivers, no doubt; but there are others who have reached wonderful\nsecrets.\"\n\nHe said this, however, without conviction and with an uncertain voice,\nfor he himself felt how empty and even ridiculous that counsel must seem\non his lips.\n\nVinicius rubbed his forehead, and said: \"Enchantments! I have seen\nsorcerers who employed unknown and subterranean powers to their personal\nprofit; I have seen those who used them to the harm of their enemies.\nBut these Christians live in poverty, forgive their enemies, preach\nsubmission, virtue, and mercy; what profit could they get from\nenchantments, and why should they use them?\"\n\nPetronius was angry that his acuteness could find no reply; not wishing,\nhowever, to acknowledge this, he said, so as to offer an answer of some\nkind,--\"That is a new sect.\" After a while he added: \"By the divine\ndweller in Paphian groves, how all that injures life! Thou wilt admire\nthe goodness and virtue of those people; but I tell thee that they are\nbad, for they are enemies of life, as are diseases, and death itself.\nAs things are, we have enough of these enemies; we do not need the\nChristians in addition. Just count them: diseases, Cæsar, Tigellinus,\nCæsar's poetry, cobblers who govern the descendants of ancient Quirites,\nfreedmen who sit in the Senate. By Castor! there is enough of this. That\nis a destructive and disgusting sect. Hast thou tried to shake thyself\nout of this sadness, and make some little use of life?\"\n\n\"I have tried,\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Ah, traitor!\" said Petronius, laughing; \"news spreads quickly through\nslaves; thou hast seduced from me Chrysothemis!\"\n\nVinicius waved his hand in disgust.\n\n\"In every case I thank thee,\" said Petronius. \"I will send her a pair of\nslippers embroidered with pearls. In my language of a lover that means,\n'Walk away.' I owe thee a double gratitude,--first, thou didst not\naccept Eunice; second, thou hast freed me from Chrysothemis. Listen to\nme! Thou seest before thee a man who has risen early, bathed, feasted,\npossessed Chrysothemis, written satires, and even at times interwoven\nprose with verses, but who has been as wearied as Cæsar, and often\nunable to unfetter himself from gloomy thoughts. And dost thou know why\nthat was so? It was because I sought at a distance that which was near.\nA beautiful woman is worth her weight always in gold; but if she loves\nin addition, she has simply no price. Such a one thou wilt not buy with\nthe riches of Verres. I say now to myself as follows: I will fill my\nlife with happiness, as a goblet with the foremost wine which the earth\nhas produced, and I will drink till my hand becomes powerless and\nmy lips grow pale. What will come, I care not; and this is my latest\nphilosophy.\"\n\n\"Thou hast proclaimed it always; there is nothing new in it.\"\n\n\"There is substance, which was lacking.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he called Eunice, who entered dressed in white\ndrapery,--the former slave no longer, but as it were a goddess of love\nand happiness.\n\nPetronius opened his arms to her, and said,--\"Come.\"\n\nAt this she ran up to him, and, sitting on his knee, surrounded his neck\nwith her arms, and placed her head on his breast. Vinicius saw how a\nreflection of purple began to cover her cheeks, how her eyes melted\ngradually in mist. They formed a wonderful group of love and happiness.\nPetronius stretched his hand to a flat vase standing at one side on a\ntable, and, taking a whole handful of violets, covered with them the\nhead, bosom, and robe of Eunice; then he pushed the tunic from her arms,\nand said,--\n\n\"Happy he who, like me, has found love enclosed in such a form! At times\nit seems to me that we are a pair of gods. Look thyself! Has Praxiteles,\nor Miron, or Skopas, or Lysias even, created more wonderful lines? Or\ndoes there exist in Paros or in Pentelicus such marble as this,--warm,\nrosy, and full of love? There are people who kiss off the edges of\nvases, but I prefer to look for pleasure where it may be found really.\"\n\nHe began to pass his lips along her shoulders and neck. She was\npenetrated with a quivering; her eyes now closed, now opened, with an\nexpression of unspeakable delight. Petronius after a while raised her\nexquisite head, and said, turning to Vinicius,--\"But think now, what are\nthy gloomy Christians in comparison with this? And if thou understand\nnot the difference, go thy way to them. But this sight will cure thee.\"\n\nVinicius distended his nostrils, through which entered the odor of\nviolets, which filled the whole chamber, and he grew pale; for he\nthought that if he could have passed his lips along Lygia's shoulders\nin that way, it would have been a kind of sacrilegious delight so great\nthat let the world vanish afterward! But accustomed now to a quick\nperception of that which took place in him, he noticed that at that\nmoment he was thinking of Lygia, and of her only.\n\n\"Eunice,\" said Petronius, \"give command, thou divine one, to prepare\ngarlands for our heads and a meal.\"\n\nWhen she had gone out he turned to Vinicius.\n\n\"I offered to make her free, but knowest thou what she answered?--'I\nwould rather be thy slave than Cæsar's wife!' And she would not consent.\nI freed her then without her knowledge. The pretor favored me by not\nrequiring her presence. But she does not know that she is free, as also\nshe does not know that this house and all my jewels, excepting the gems,\nwill belong to her in case of my death.\" He rose and walked through the\nroom, and said: \"Love changes some more, others less, but it has changed\neven me. Once I loved the odor of verbenas; but as Eunice prefers\nviolets, I like them now beyond all other flowers, and since spring came\nwe breathe only violets.\"\n\nHere he stopped before Vinicius and inquired,--\"But as to thee, dost\nthou keep always to nard?\"\n\n\"Give me peace!\" answered the young man.\n\n\"I wished thee to see Eunice, and I mentioned her to thee, because thou,\nperhaps, art seeking also at a distance that which is near. Maybe for\nthee too is beating, somewhere in the chambers of thy slaves, a true and\nsimple heart. Apply such a balsam to thy wounds. Thou sayest that\nLygia loves thee? Perhaps she does. But what kind of love is that\nwhich abdicates? Is not the meaning this,--that there is another force\nstronger than her love? No, my dear, Lygia is not Eunice.\"\n\n\"All is one torment merely,\" answered Vinicius. \"I saw thee kissing\nEunice's shoulders, and I thought then that if Lygia would lay hers bare\nto me I should not care if the ground opened under us next moment. But\nat the very thought of such an act a certain dread seized me, as if I\nhad attacked some vestal or wished to defile a divinity. Lygia is not\nEunice, but I understand the difference not in thy way. Love has changed\nthy nostrils, and thou preferrest violets to verbenas; but it has\nchanged my soul: hence, in spite of my misery and desire, I prefer Lygia\nto be what she is rather than to be like others.\"\n\n\"In that case no injustice is done thee. But I do not understand the\nposition.\"\n\n\"True, true!\" answered Vinicius, feverishly. \"We understand each other\nno longer.\"\n\nAnother moment of silence followed.\n\n\"May Hades swallow thy Christians!\" exclaimed Petronius. \"They have\nfilled thee with disquiet, and destroyed thy sense of life. May Hades\ndevour them! Thou art mistaken in thinking that their religion is good,\nfor good is what gives people happiness, namely, beauty, love, power;\nbut these they call vanity. Thou art mistaken in this, that they are\njust; for if we pay good for evil, what shall we pay for good? And\nbesides, if we pay the same for one and the other, why are people to be\ngood?\"\n\n\"No, the pay is not the same; but according to their teaching it begins\nin a future life, which is without limit.\"\n\n\"I do not enter into that question, for we shall see hereafter if it\nbe possible to see anything without eyes. Meanwhile they are simply\nincompetents. Ursus strangled Croton because he has limbs of bronze; but\nthese are mopes, and the future cannot belong to mopes.\"\n\n\"For them life begins with death.\"\n\n\"Which is as if one were to say, 'Day begins with night.' Hast thou the\nintent to carry off Lygia?\"\n\n\"No, I cannot pay her evil for good, and I swore that I would not.\"\n\n\"Dost thou intend to accept the religion of Christ?\"\n\n\"I wish to do so, but my nature cannot endure it.\"\n\n\"But wilt thou be able to forget Lygia?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then travel.\"\n\nAt that moment the slaves announced that the repast was ready; but\nPetronius, to whom it seemed that he had fallen on a good thought,\nsaid, on the way to the triclinium,--\"Thou has ridden over a part of the\nworld, but only as a soldier hastening to his place of destination, and\nwithout halting by the way. Go with us to Achæa. Cæsar has not given up\nthe journey. He will stop everywhere on the way, sing, receive crowns,\nplunder temples, and return as a triumphator to Italy. That will\nresemble somewhat a journey of Bacchus and Apollo in one person.\nAugustians, male and female, a thousand citharæ. By Castor! that will be\nworth witnessing, for hitherto the world has not seen anything like it!\"\n\nHere he placed himself on the couch before the table, by the side of\nEunice; and when the slaves put a wreath of anemones on his head, he\ncontinued,--\"What hast thou seen in Corbulo's service? Nothing. Hast\nthou seen the Grecian temples thoroughly, as I have,--I who was passing\nmore than two years from the hands of one guide to those of another?\nHast thou been in Rhodes to examine the site of the Colossus? Hast thou\nseen in Panopeus, in Phocis, the clay from which Prometheus shaped man;\nor in Sparta the eggs laid by Leda; or in Athens the famous Sarmatian\narmor made of horse-hoofs; or in Euboea the ship of Agamemnon; or the\ncup for whose pattern the left breast of Helen served? Hast thou seen\nAlexandria, Memphis, the Pyramids, the hair which Isis tore from her\nhead in grief for Osiris? Hast thou heard the shout of Memnon? The world\nis wide; everything does not end at the Trans-Tiber! I will accompany\nCæsar, and when he returns I will leave him and go to Cyprus; for it\nis the wish of this golden-haired goddess of mine that we offer doves\ntogether to the divinity in Paphos, and thou must know that whatever she\nwishes must happen.\"\n\n\"I am thy slave,\" said Eunice.\n\nHe rested his garlanded head on her bosom, and said with a smile,--\"Then\nI am the slave of a slave. I admire thee, divine one, from feet to\nhead!\"\n\nThen he said to Vinicius: \"Come with us to Cyprus. But first remember\nthat thou must see Cæsar. It is bad that thou hast not been with him\nyet; Tigellinus is ready to use this to thy disadvantage. He has no\npersonal hatred for thee, it is true; but he cannot love thee, even\nbecause thou art my sister's son. We shall say that thou wert sick. We\nmust think over what thou art to answer should he ask thee about Lygia.\nIt will be best to wave thy hand and say that she was with thee till she\nwearied thee. He will understand that. Tell him also that sickness kept\nthee at home; that thy fever was increased by disappointment at not\nbeing able to visit Naples and hear his song; that thou wert assisted to\nhealth only by the hope of hearing him. Fear no exaggeration. Tigellinus\npromises to invent, not only something great for Cæsar, but something\nenormous. I am afraid that he will undermine me; I am afraid too of thy\ndisposition.\"\n\n\"Dost thou know,\" said Vinicius, \"that there are people who have no fear\nof Cæsar, and who live as calmly as if he were non-existent?\"\n\n\"I know whom thou hast in mind--the Christians.\"\n\n\"Yes; they alone. But our life,--what is it if not unbroken terror?\"\n\n\"Do not mention thy Christians. They fear not Cæsar, because he has not\neven heard of them perhaps; and in every case he knows nothing of them,\nand they concern him as much as withered leaves. But I tell thee that\nthey are incompetents. Thou feelest this thyself; if thy nature is\nrepugnant to their teaching, it is just because thou feelest their\nincompetence. Thou art a man of other clay; so trouble not thyself or me\nwith them. We shall be able to live and die, and what more they will be\nable to do is unknown.\"\n\nThese words struck Vinicius; and when he returned home, he began to\nthink that in truth, perhaps, the goodness and charity of Christians was\na proof of their incompetience of soul. It seemed to him that people\nof strength and temper could not forgive thus. It came to his head that\nthis must be the real cause of the repulsion which his Roman soul\nfelt toward their teaching. \"We shall be able to live and die!\" said\nPetronius. As to them, they know only how to forgive, and understand\nneither true love nor true hatred.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXX\n\n\nCæsar, on returning to Rome, was angry because he had returned, and\nafter some days was filled anew with a wish to visit Achæa. He even\nissued an edict in which he declared that his absence would be short,\nand that public affairs would not be exposed to detriment because of it.\nIn company with Augustians, among whom was Vinicius, he repaired to the\nCapitol to make offerings to the gods for an auspicious journey. But on\nthe second day, when he visited the temple of Vesta, an event took place\nwhich changed all his projects. Nero feared the gods, though he did not\nbelieve in them; he feared especially the mysterious Vesta, who filled\nhim with such awe that at sight of the divinity and the sacred fire his\nhair rose on a sudden from terror, his teeth chattered, a shiver\nran through his limbs, and he dropped into the arms of Vinicius, who\nhappened there behind him. He was borne out of the temple at once, and\nconveyed to the Palatine, where he recovered soon, but did not leave the\nbed for that day. He declared, moreover, to the great astonishment of\nthose present, that he deferred his journey, since the divinity had\nwarned him secretly against haste. An hour later it was announced\nthroughout Rome that Cæsar, seeing the gloomy faces of the citizens, and\nmoved by love for them, as a father for his children, would remain\nto share their lot and their pleasures. The people, rejoiced at\nthis decision, and certain also that they would not miss games and\na distribution of wheat, assembled in crowds before the gates of\nthe Palatine, and raised shouts in honor of the divine Cæsar, who\ninterrupted the play at dice with which he was amusing himself with\nAugustians, and said:\n\n\"Yes, there was need to defer the journey. Egypt, and predicted dominion\nover the Orient, cannot escape me; hence Achæa, too, will not be lost.\nI will give command to cut through the isthmus of Corinth; I will rear\nsuch monuments in Egypt that the pyramids will seem childish toys in\ncomparison; I will have a sphinx built seven times greater than that\nwhich is gazing into the desert outside Memphis; but I will command that\nit have my face. Coming ages will speak only of that monument and of\nme.\"\n\n\"With thy verses thou hast reared a monument to thyself already, not\nseven, but thrice seven, times greater than the pyramid of Cheops,\" said\nPetronius.\n\n\"But with my song?\" inquired Nero.\n\n\"Ah! if men could only build for thee a statue, like that of Memnon, to\ncall with thy voice at sunrise! For all ages to come the seas adjoining\nEgypt would swarm with ships in which crowds from the three parts of the\nworld would be lost in listening to thy song.\"\n\n\"Alas! who can do that?\" said Nero.\n\n\"But thou canst give command to cut out of basalt thyself driving a\nquadriga.\"\n\n\"True! I will do that!\"\n\n\"Thou wilt bestow a gift on humanity.\"\n\n\"In Egypt I will marry the Moon, who is now a widow, and I shall be a\ngod really.\"\n\n\"And thou wilt give us stars for wives; we will make a new\nconstellation, which will be called the constellation of Nero. But do\nthou marry Vitelius to the Nile, so that he may beget hippopotamuses.\nGive the desert to Tigellinus, he will be king of the jackals.\"\n\n\"And what dost thou predestine to me?\" inquired Vatinius.\n\n\"Apis bless thee! Thou didst arrange such splendid games in Beneventum\nthat I cannot wish thee ill. Make a pair of boots for the sphinx, whose\npaws must grow numb during night-dews; after that thou will make sandals\nfor the Colossi which form the alleys before the temples. Each one will\nfind there a fitting occupation. Domitius Afer, for example, will be\ntreasurer, since he is known for his honesty. I am glad, Cæsar, when\nthou art dreaming of Egypt, and I am saddened because thou hast deferred\nthy plan of a journey.\"\n\n\"Thy mortal eyes saw nothing, for the deity becomes invisible to\nwhomever it wishes,\" said Nero. \"Know that when I was in the temple of\nVesta she herself stood near me, and whispered in my ear, 'Defer the\njourney.' That happened so unexpectedly that I was terrified, though for\nsuch an evident care of the gods for me I should be thankful.\"\n\n\"We were all terrified,\" said Tigellinus, \"and the vestal Rubria\nfainted.\"\n\n\"Rubria!\" said Nero; \"what a snowy neck she has!\"\n\n\"But she blushed at sight of the divine Cæsar--\"\n\n\"True! I noticed that myself. That is wonderful. There is something\ndivine in every vestal, and Rubria is very beautiful.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said he, after a moment's meditation, \"why people fear Vesta\nmore than other gods. What does this mean? Though I am the chief priest,\nfear seized me to-day. I remember only that I was falling back, and\nshould have dropped to the ground had not some one supported me. Who was\nit?\"\n\n\"I,\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Oh, thou 'stern Mars'! Why wert thou not in Beneventum? They told me\nthat thou wert ill, and indeed thy face is changed. But I heard that\nCroton wished to kill thee? Is that true?\"\n\n\"It is, and he broke my arm; but I defended myself.\"\n\n\"With a broken arm?\"\n\n\"A certain barbarian helped me; he was stronger than Croton.\"\n\nNero looked at him with astonishment. \"Stronger than Croton? Art thou\njesting? Croton was the strongest of men, but now here is Syphax from\nEthiopia.\"\n\n\"I tell thee, Cæsar, what I saw with my own eyes.\"\n\n\"Where is that pearl? Has he not become king of Nemi?\"\n\n\"I cannot tell, Cæsar. I lost sight of him.\"\n\n\"Thou knowest not even of what people he is?\"\n\n\"I had a broken arm, and could not inquire for him.\"\n\n\"Seek him, and find him for me.\"\n\n\"I will occupy myself with that,\" said Tigellinus.\n\nBut Nero spoke further to Vinicius: \"I thank thee for having supported\nme; I might have broken my head by a fall. On a time thou wert a good\ncompanion, but campaigning and service with Corbulo have made thee wild\nin some way; I see thee rarely.\n\n\"How is that maiden too narrow in the hips, with whom thou wert in\nlove,\" asked he after a while, \"and whom I took from Aulus for thee?\"\n\nVinicius was confused, but Petronius came to his aid at that moment. \"I\nwill lay a wager, lord,\" said he, \"that he has forgotten. Dost thou see\nhis confusion? Ask him how many of them there were since that time, and\nI will not give assurance of his power to answer. The Vinicius are good\nsoldiers, but still better gamecocks. They need whole flocks. Punish\nhim for that, lord, by not inviting him to the feast which Tigellinus\npromises to arrange in thy honor on the pond of Agrippa.\"\n\n\"I will not do that. I trust, Tigellinus, that flocks of beauty will not\nbe lacking there.\"\n\n\"Could the Graces be absent where Amor will be present?\" answered\nTigellinus.\n\n\"Weariness tortures me,\" said Nero. \"I have remained in Rome at the will\nof the goddess, but I cannot endure the city. I will go to Antium. I\nam stifled in these narrow streets, amid these tumble-down houses, amid\nthese alleys. Foul air flies even here to my house and my gardens. Oh,\nif an earthquake would destroy Rome, if some angry god would level it to\nthe earth! I would show how a city should be built, which is the head of\nthe world and my capital.\"\n\n\"Cæsar,\" answered Tigellinus, \"thou sayest, 'If some angry god would\ndestroy the city,'--is it so?\"\n\n\"It is! What then?\"\n\n\"But art thou not a god?\"\n\nNero waved his hand with an expression of weariness, and said,--\"We\nshall see thy work on the pond of Agrippa. Afterward I go to Antium. Ye\nare all little, hence do not understand that I need immense things.\"\n\nThen he closed his eyes, giving to understand in that way that he needed\nrest. In fact, the Augustians were beginning to depart. Petronius went\nout with Vinicius, and said to him,--\"Thou art invited, then, to share\nin the amusement. Bronzebeard has renounced the journey, but he will be\nmadder than ever; he has fixed himself in the city as in his own house.\nTry thou, too, to find in these madnesses amusement and forgetfulness.\nWell! we have conquered the world, and have a right to amuse ourselves.\nThou, Marcus, art a very comely fellow, and to that I ascribe in part\nthe weakness which I have for thee. By the Ephesian Diana! if thou\ncouldst see thy joined brows, and thy face in which the ancient blood\nof the Quirites is evident! Others near thee looked like freedmen. True!\nwere it not for that mad religion, Lygia would be in thy house to-day.\nAttempt once more to prove to me that they are not enemies of life and\nmankind. They have acted well toward thee, hence thou mayst be grateful\nto them; but in thy place I should detest that religion, and seek\npleasure where I could find it. Thou art a comely fellow, I repeat, and\nRome is swarming with divorced women.\"\n\n\"I wonder only that all this does not torture thee yet?\"\n\n\"Who has told thee that it does not? It tortures me this long time,\nbut I am not of thy years. Besides, I have other attachments which are\nlacking thee. I love books, thou hast no love for them; I love poetry,\nwhich annoys thee; I love pottery, gems, a multitude of things, at which\nthou dost not look; I have a pain in my loins, which thou hast not; and,\nfinally, I have found Eunice, but thou hast found nothing similar. For\nme, it is pleasant in my house, among masterpieces; of thee I can never\nmake a man of æsthetic feeling. I know that in life I shall never find\nanything beyond what I have found; thou thyself knowest not that thou\nart hoping yet continually, and seeking. If death were to visit thee,\nwith all thy courage and sadness, thou wouldst die with astonishment\nthat it was necessary to leave the world; but I should accept death as a\nnecessity, with the conviction that there is no fruit in the world which\nI have not tasted. I do not hurry, neither shall I loiter; I shall\ntry merely to be joyful to the end. There are cheerful sceptics in the\nworld. For me, the Stoics are fools; but stoicism tempers men, at least,\nwhile thy Christians bring sadness into the world, which in life is the\nsame as rain in nature. Dost thou know what I have learned? That during\nthe festivities which Tigellinus will arrange at the pond of Agrippa,\nthere will be lupanaria, and in them women from the first houses of\nRome. Will there be not even one sufficiently beautiful to console thee?\nThere will be maidens, too, appearing in society for the first time--as\nnymphs. Such is our Roman Cæsardom! The air is mild already; the midday\nbreeze will warm the water and not bring pimples on naked bodies.\nAnd thou, Narcissus, know this, that there will not be one to refuse\nthee,--not one, even though she be a vestal virgin.\"\n\nVinicius began to strike his head with his palm, like a man occupied\neternally with one thought.\n\n\"I should need luck to find such a one.\"\n\n\"And who did this for thee, if not the Christians? But people whose\nstandard is a cross cannot be different. Listen to me: Greece was\nbeautiful, and created wisdom; we created power; and what, to thy\nthinking, can this teaching create? If thou know, explain; for, by\nPollux! I cannot divine it.\"\n\n\"Thou art afraid, it seems, lest I become a Christian,\" said Vinicius,\nshrugging his shoulders.\n\n\"I am afraid that thou hast spoiled life for thyself. If thou canst\nnot be a Grecian, be a Roman; possess and enjoy. Our madnesses have\na certain sense, for there is in them a kind of thought of our own. I\ndespise Bronzebeard, because he is a Greek buffoon. If he held himself\na Roman, I should recognize that he was right in permitting himself\nmadness. Promise me that if thou find some Christian on returning home,\nthou wilt show thy tongue to him. If he be Glaucus the physician, he\nwill not wonder.--Till we meet on the pond of Agrippa.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXI\n\n\nPRETORIANS surrounded the groves on the banks of the pond of Agrippa,\nlest over-numerous throngs of spectators might annoy Cæsar and his\nguests; though it was said that everything in Rome distinguished for\nwealth, beauty, or intellect was present at that feast, which had no\nequal in the history of the city. Tigellinus wished to recompense Cæsar\nfor the deferred journey to Achæa, to surpass all who had ever feasted\nNero, and prove that no man could entertain as he could. With this\nobject in view, while with Cæsar in Naples, and later in Beneventum, he\nhad made preparations and sent orders to bring from the remotest regions\nof the earth beasts, birds, rare fish, and plants, not omitting vessels\nand cloths, which were to enhance the splendor of the feast. The\nrevenues of whole provinces went to satisfy mad projects; but the\npowerful favorite had no need to hesitate. His influence grew daily.\nTigellinus was not dearer than others to Nero yet, perhaps, but he was\nbecoming more and more indispensable. Petronius surpassed him infinitely\nin polish, intellect, wit; in conversation he knew better how to amuse\nCæsar: but to his misfortune he surpassed in conversation Cæsar himself,\nhence he roused his jealousy; moreover he could not be an obedient\ninstrument in everything, and Cæsar feared his opinion when there were\nquestions in matters of taste. But before Tigellinus, Nero never felt\nany restraint. The very title, Arbiter Elegantiarum, which had been\ngiven to Petronius, annoyed Nero's vanity, for who had the right to\nbear that title but himself? Tigellinus had sense enough to know his\nown deficiencies; and seeing that he could not compete with Petronius,\nLucan, or others distinguished by birth, talents, or learning, he\nresolved to extinguish them by the suppleness of his services, and above\nall by such a magnificence that the imagination of Nero himself would\nbe struck by it. He had arranged to give the feast on a gigantic raft,\nframed of gilded timbers. The borders of this raft were decked with\nsplendid shells found in the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, shells\nbrilliant with the colors of pearls and the rainbow. The banks of\nthe pond were covered with groups of palm, with groves of lotus, and\nblooming roses. In the midst of these were hidden fountains of perfumed\nwater, statues of gods and goddesses, and gold or silver cages filled\nwith birds of various colors. In the centre of the raft rose an immense\ntent, or rather, not to hide the feasters, only the roof of a tent, made\nof Syrian purple, resting on silver columns; under it were gleaming,\nlike suns, tables prepared for the guests, loaded with Alexandrian\nglass, crystal, and vessels simply beyond price,--the plunder of Italy,\nGreece, and Asia Minor. The raft, which because of plants accumulated on\nit had the appearance of an island and a garden, was joined by cords of\ngold and purple to boats shaped like fish, swans, mews, and flamingoes,\nin which sat at painted oars naked rowers of both sexes, with forms and\nfeatures of marvellous beauty, their hair dressed in Oriental fashion,\nor gathered in golden nets. When Nero arrived at the main raft with\nPoppæa and the Augustians, and sat beneath the purple tent-roof, the\noars struck the water, the boats moved, the golden cords stretched,\nand the raft with the feast and the guests began to move and describe\ncircles on the pond. Other boats surrounded it, and other smaller rafts,\nfilled with women playing on citharæ and harps, women whose rosy bodies\non the blue background of the sky and the water and in the reflections\nfrom golden instruments seemed to absorb that blue and those\nreflections, and to change and bloom like flowers.\n\nFrom the groves at the banks, from fantastic buildings reared for\nthat day and hidden among thickets, were heard music and song. The\nneighborhood resounded, the groves resounded; echoes bore around the\nvoices of horns and trumpets. Cæsar himself, with Poppæa on one side of\nhim, and Pythagoras on the other, was amazed; and more especially when\namong the boats young slave maidens appeared as sirens, and were covered\nwith green network in imitation of scales, he did not spare praises on\nTigellinus. But he looked at Petronius from habit, wishing to learn the\nopinion of the \"arbiter,\" who seemed indifferent for a long time, and\nonly when questioned outright, answered,--\"I judge, lord, that ten\nthousand naked maidens make less impression than one.\"\n\nBut the \"floating feast\" pleased Cæsar, for it was something new.\nBesides, such exquisite dishes were served that the imagination of\nApicius would have failed at sight of them, and wines of so many kinds\nthat Otho, who used to serve eighty, would have hidden under water with\nshame, could he have witnessed the luxury of that feast. Besides women,\nthe Augustians sat down at the table, among whom Vinicius excelled all\nwith his beauty. Formerly his figure and face indicated too clearly\nthe soldier by profession; now mental suffering and the physical pain\nthrough which he had passed had chiselled his features, as if the\ndelicate hand of a master had passed over them. His complexion had\nlost its former swarthiness, but the yellowish gleam of Numidian marble\nremained on it. His eyes had grown larger and more pensive. His body\nhad retained its former powerful outlines, as if created for armor; but\nabove the body of a legionary was seen the head of a Grecian god, or at\nleast of a refined patrician, at once subtle and splendid. Petronius, in\nsaying that none of the ladies of Cæsar's court would be able or willing\nto resist Vinicius, spoke like a man of experience. All gazed at him\nnow, not excepting Poppæa, or the vestal virgin Rubria, whom Cæsar\nwished to see at the feast.\n\nWines, cooled in mountain snow, soon warmed the hearts and heads of the\nguests. Boats shaped as grasshoppers or butterflies shot forth from the\nbushes at the shore every moment. The blue surface of the pond seemed\noccupied by butterflies. Above the boats here and there flew doves, and\nother birds from India and Africa, fastened with silver and blue threads\nor strings. The sun had passed the greater part of the sky, but the day\nwas warm and even hot, though in the beginning of May. The pond heaved\nfrom the strokes of oars, which beat the water in time with music;\nbut in the air there was not the least breath of wind; the groves were\nmotionless, as if lost in listening and in gazing at that which was\nhappening on the water. The raft circled continually on the pond,\nbearing guests who were increasingly drunk and boisterous.\n\nThe feast had not run half its course yet, when the order in which all\nsat at the table was observed no longer. Cæsar gave the example, for,\nrising himself, he commanded Vinicius, who sat next to Rubria the\nvestal, to move. Nero occupied the place, and began to whisper something\nin Rubria's ear. Vinicius found himself next to Poppæa, who extended her\narm and begged him to fasten her loosened bracelet. When he did so, with\nhands trembling somewhat, she cast at him from beneath her long lashes\na glance as it were of modesty, and shook her golden head as if in\nresistance.\n\nMeanwhile the sun, growing larger, ruddier, sank slowly behind the\ntops of the grove; the guests were for the greater part thoroughly\nintoxicated. The raft circled now nearer the shore, on which, among\nbunches of trees and flowers, were seen groups of people, disguised as\nfauns or satyrs, playing on flutes, bagpipes, and drums, with groups of\nmaidens representing nymphs, dryads, and hamadryads. Darkness fell at\nlast amid drunken shouts from the tent, shouts raised in honor of\nLuna. Meanwhile the groves were lighted with a thousand lamps. From the\nlupanaria on the shores shone swarms of lights; on the terraces appeared\nnew naked groups, formed of the wives and daughters of the first Roman\nhouses. These with voice and unrestrained manner began to lure partners.\nThe raft touched the shore at last. Cæsar and the Augustians vanished\nin the groves, scattered in lupanaria, in tents hidden in thickets,\nin grottos artificially arranged among fountains and springs. Madness\nseized all; no one knew whither Cæsar had gone; no one knew who was a\nsenator, who a knight, who a dancer, who a musician. Satyrs and fauns\nfell to chasing nymphs with shouting. They struck lamps with thyrses to\nquench them. Darkness covered certain parts of the grove. Everywhere,\nhowever, laughter and shouts were heard, and whispers, and panting\nbreaths. In fact Rome had not seen anything like that before.\n\nVinicius was not drunk, as he had been at the feast in Nero's palace,\nwhen Lygia was present; but he was roused and intoxicated by the sight\nof everything done round about, and at last the fever of pleasure seized\nhim. Rushing into the forest, he ran, with others, examining who of the\ndryads seemed most beautiful. New flocks of these raced around him every\nmoment with shouts and with songs; these flocks were pursued by fauns,\nsatyrs, senators, knights, and by sounds of music. Seeing at last a band\nof maidens led by one arrayed as Diana, he sprang to it, intending to\nexamine the goddess more closely. All at once the heart sank in his\nbosom, for he thought that in that goddess, with the moon on her\nforehead, he recognized Lygia.\n\nThey encircled him with a mad whirl, and, wishing evidently to incline\nhim to follow, rushed away the next moment like a herd of deer. But he\nstood on the spot with beating heart, breathless; for though he saw that\nthe Diana was not Lygia, and that at close sight she was not even like\nher, the too powerful impression deprived him of strength. Straightway\nhe was seized by such yearning as he had never felt before, and love for\nLygia rushed to his breast in a new, immense wave. Never had she seemed\nso dear, pure, and beloved as in that forest of madness and frenzied\nexcess. A moment before, he himself wished to drink of that cup, and\nshare in that shameless letting loose of the senses; now disgust and\nrepugnance possessed him. He felt that infamy was stifling him; that\nhis breast needed air and the stars which were hidden by the thickets of\nthat dreadful grove. He determined to flee; but barely had he moved\nwhen before him stood some veiled figure, which placed its hands on his\nshoulders and whispered, flooding his face with burning breath, \"I love\nthee! Come! no one will see us, hasten!\"\n\nVinicius was roused, as if from a dream.\n\n\"Who art thou?\"\n\nBut she leaned her breast on him and insisted,--\"Hurry! See how lonely\nit is here, and I love thee! Come!\"\n\n\"Who art thou?\" repeated Vinicius.\n\n\"Guess!\"\n\nAs she said this, she pressed her lips to his through the veil, drawing\ntoward her his head at the same time, till at last breath failed the\nwoman and she tore her face from him.\n\n\"Night of love! night of madness!\" said she, catching the air quickly.\n\"Today is free! Thou hast me!\"\n\nBut that kiss burned Vinicius; it filled him with disquiet. His soul and\nheart were elsewhere; in the whole world nothing existed for him except\nLygia. So, pushing back the veiled figure, he said,--\n\n\"Whoever thou be, I love another, I do not wish thee.\"\n\n\"Remove the veil,\" said she, lowering her head toward him.\n\nAt that moment the leaves of the nearest myrtle began to rustle; the\nveiled woman vanished like a dream vision, but from a distance her laugh\nwas heard, strange in some way, and ominous.\n\nPetronius stood before Vinicius.\n\n\"I have heard and seen,\" said he.\n\n\"Let us go from this place,\" replied Vinicius.\n\nAnd they went. They passed the lupanaria gleaming with light, the grove,\nthe line of mounted pretorians, and found the litters.\n\n\"I will go with thee,\" said Petronius.\n\nThey sat down together. On the road both were silent, and only in the\natrium of Vinicius's house did Petronius ask,--\"Dost thou know who that\nwas?\"\n\n\"Was it Rubria?\" asked Vinicius, repulsed at the very thought that\nRubria was a vestal.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Who then?\"\n\nPetronius lowered his voice. \"The fire of Vesta was defiled, for Rubria\nwas with Cæsar. But with thee was speaking\"--and he finished in a still\nlower voice, \"the divine Augusta.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed.\n\n\"Cæsar,\" said Petronius, \"was unable to hide from Poppæa his desire for\nRubria; therefore she wished, perhaps, to avenge herself. But I hindered\nyou both. Hadst thou recognized the Augusta and refused her, thou\nwouldst have been ruined beyond rescue,--thou, Lygia, and I, perhaps.\"\n\n\"I have enough of Rome, Cæsar, feasts, the Augusta, Tigellinus, and\nall of you!\" burst out Vinicius. \"I am stifling. I cannot live thus; I\ncannot. Dost understand me?\"\n\n\"Vinicius, thou art losing sense, judgment, moderation.\"\n\n\"I love only her in this world.\"\n\n\"What of that?\"\n\n\"This, that I wish no other love. I have no wish for your life, your\nfeasts, your shamelessness, your crimes!\"\n\n\"What is taking place in thee? Art thou a Christian?\"\n\nThe young man seized his head with both hands, and repeated, as if in\ndespair,--\"Not yet! not yet!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXII\n\n\nPETRONIUS went home shrugging his shoulders and greatly dissatisfied.\nIt was evident to him that he and Vinicius had ceased to understand\neach other, that their souls had separated entirely. Once Petronius had\nimmense influence over the young soldier. He had been for him a model\nin everything, and frequently a few ironical words of his sufficed to\nrestrain Vinicius or urge him to something. At present there remained\nnothing of that; such was the change that Petronius did not try his\nformer methods, feeling that his wit and irony would slip without effect\nalong the new principles which love and contact with the uncomprehended\nsociety of Christians had put in the soul of Vinicius. The veteran\nsceptic understood that he had lost the key to that soul. This knowledge\nfilled him with dissatisfaction and even with fear, which was heightened\nby the events of that night. \"If on the part of the Augusta it is not a\npassing whim but a more enduring desire,\" thought Petronius, \"one of two\nthings will happen,--either Vinicius will not resist her, and he may be\nruined by any accident, or, what is like him to-day, he will resist, and\nin that event he will be ruined certainly, and perhaps I with him, even\nbecause I am his relative, and because the Augusta, having included a\nwhole family in her hatred, will throw the weight of her influence on\nthe side of Tigellinus. In this way and that it is bad.\" Petronius was\na man of courage and felt no dread of death; but since he hoped nothing\nfrom it, he had no wish to invite it. After long meditation, he decided\nat last that it would be better and safer to send Vinicius from Rome on\na journey. Ah! but if in addition he could give him Lygia for the road,\nhe would do so with pleasure. But he hoped that it would not be too\ndifficult to persuade him to the journey without her. He would spread a\nreport on the Palatine then of Vinicius's illness, and remove danger as\nwell from his nephew as himself. The Augusta did not know whether she\nwas recognized by Vinicius; she might suppose that she was not, hence\nher vanity had not suffered much so far. But it might be different in\nthe future, and it was necessary to avoid peril. Petronius wished to\ngain time, above all; for he understood that once Cæsar set out for\nAchæa, Tigellinus, who comprehended nothing in the domain of art, would\ndescend to the second place and lose his influence. In Greece Petronius\nwas sure of victory over every opponent.\n\nMeanwhile he determined to watch over Vinicius, and urge him to the\njourney. For a number of days he was ever thinking over this, that if he\nobtained an edict from Cæsar expelling the Christians from Rome, Lygia\nwould leave it with the other confessors of Christ, and after her\nVinicius too. Then there would be no need to persuade him. The thing\nitself was possible. In fact it was not so long since, when the Jews\nbegan disturbances out of hatred to the Christians, Claudius, unable to\ndistinguish one from the other, expelled the Jews. Why should not Nero\nexpel the Christians? There would be more room in Rome without them.\nAfter that \"floating feast\" Petronius saw Nero daily, both on the\nPalatine and in other houses. To suggest such an idea was easy, for Nero\nnever opposed suggestions which brought harm or ruin to any one. After\nmature decision Petronius framed a whole plan for himself. He would\nprepare a feast in his own house, and at this feast persuade Cæsar to\nissue an edict. He had even a hope, which was not barren, that Cæsar\nwould confide the execution of the edict to him. He would send out Lygia\nwith all the consideration proper to the mistress of Vinicius to\nBaiæ, for instance, and let them love and amuse themselves there with\nChristianity as much as they liked.\n\nMeanwhile he visited Vinicius frequently, first, because he could not,\ndespite all his Roman selfishness, rid himself of attachment to the\nyoung tribune, and second, because he wished to persuade him to the\njourney. Vinicius feigned sickness, and did not show himself on the\nPalatine, where new plans appeared every day. At last Petronius heard\nfrom Cæsar's own lips that three days from then he would go to Antium\nwithout fail. Next morning he went straightway to inform Vinicius,\nwho showed him a list of persons invited to Antium, which list one of\nCæsar's freedmen had brought him that morning.\n\n\"My name is on it; so is thine,\" said he. \"Thou wilt find the same at\nthy house on returning.\"\n\n\"Were I not among the invited,\" replied Petronius, \"it would mean that I\nmust die; I do not expect that to happen before the journey to Achæa. I\nshall be too useful to Nero. Barely have we come to Rome,\" said he, on\nlooking at the list, \"when we must leave again, and drag over the road\nto Antium. But we must go, for this is not merely an invitation, it is a\ncommand as well.\"\n\n\"And if some one would not obey?\"\n\n\"He would be invited in another style to go on a journey notably\nlonger,--one from which people do not return. What a pity that thou\nhast not obeyed my counsel and left Rome in season! Now thou must go to\nAntium.\"\n\n\"I must go to Antium. See in what times we live and what vile slaves we\nare!\"\n\n\"Hast thou noticed that only to-day?\"\n\n\"No. But thou hast explained to me that Christian teaching is an enemy\nof life, since it shackles it. But can their shackles be stronger than\nthose which we carry? Thou hast said, 'Greece created wisdom and beauty,\nand Rome power.' Where is our power?\"\n\n\"Call Chilo and talk with him. I have no desire to-day to philosophize.\nBy Hercules! I did not create these times, and I do not answer for them.\nLet us speak of Antium. Know that great danger is awaiting thee, and it\nwould be better, perhaps, to measure strength with that Ursus who choked\nCroton than to go there, but still thou canst not refuse.\"\n\nVinicius waved his hand carelessly, and said,--\"Danger! We are all\nwandering in the shadow of death, and every moment some head sinks in\nits darkness.\"\n\n\"Am I to enumerate all who had a little sense, and therefore, in spite\nof the times of Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero, lived eighty\nand ninety years? Let even such a man as Domitius Afer serve thee as\nan example. He has grown old quietly, though all his life he has been a\ncriminal and a villain.\"\n\n\"Perhaps for that very reason!\" answered Vinicius.\n\nThen he began to glance over the list and read: \"Tigellinus, Vatinius,\nSextus Africanus, Aquilinus Regulus, Suilius Nerulinus, Eprius\nMarcellus, and so on! What an assembly of ruffians and scoundrels! And\nto say that they govern the world! Would it not become them better to\nexhibit an Egyptian or Syrian divinity through villages, jingle sistra,\nand earn their bread by telling fortunes or dancing?\"\n\n\"Or exhibiting learned monkeys, calculating dogs, or a flute-playing\nass,\" added Petronius. \"That is true, but let us speak of something more\nimportant. Summon thy attention and listen. I have said on the Palatine\nthat thou art ill, unable to leave the house; still thy name is on the\nlist, which proves that some one does not credit my stories and has seen\nto this purposely. Nero cares nothing for the matter, since for him thou\nart a soldier, who has no conception of poetry or music, and with whom\nat the very highest he can talk only about races in the circus. So\nPoppæa must have seen to putting down thy name, which means that her\ndesire for thee was not a passing whim, and that she wants to win thee.\"\n\n\"She is a daring Augusta.\"\n\n\"Indeed she is daring, for she may ruin herself beyond redemption. May\nVenus inspire her, however, with another love as soon as possible; but\nsince she desires thee thou must observe the very greatest caution.\nShe has begun to weary Bronzebeard already; he prefers Rubria now, or\nPythagoras, but, through consideration of self, he would wreak the most\nhorrible vengeance on us.\"\n\n\"In the grove I knew not that she was speaking to me; but thou wert\nlistening. I said that I loved another, and did not wish her. Thou\nknowest that.\"\n\n\"I implore thee, by all the infernal gods, lose not the remnant of\nreason which the Christians have left in thee. How is it possible to\nhesitate, having a choice between probable and certain destruction?\nHave I not said already that if thou hadst wounded the Augusta's vanity,\nthere would have been no rescue for thee? By Hades! if life has grown\nhateful to thee, better open thy veins at once, or cast thyself on a\nsword, for shouldst thou offend Poppæa, a less easy death may meet thee.\nIt was easier once to converse with thee. What concerns thee specially?\nWould this affair cause thee loss, or hinder thee from loving thy Lygia?\nRemember, besides, that Poppæa saw her on the Palatine. It will not be\ndifficult for her to guess why thou art rejecting such lofty favor, and\nshe will get Lygia even from under the earth. Thou wilt ruin not only\nthyself, but Lygia too. Dost understand?\"\n\nVinicius listened as if thinking of something else, and at last he\nsaid,--\n\n\"I must see her.\"\n\n\"Who? Lygia?\"\n\n\"Lygia.\"\n\n\"Dost thou know where she is?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then thou wilt begin anew to search for her in old cemeteries and\nbeyond the Tiber?\"\n\n\"I know not, but I must see her.\"\n\n\"Well, though she is a Christian, it may turn out that she has more\njudgment than thou; and it will certainly, unless she wishes thy ruin.\"\n\nVinicius shrugged his shoulders. \"She saved me from the hands of Ursus.\"\n\n\"Then hurry, for Bronzebeard will not postpone his departure. Sentences\nof death may be issued in Antium also.\"\n\nBut Vinicius did not hear. One thought alone occupied him, an interview\nwith Lygia; hence he began to think over methods.\n\nMeanwhile something intervened which might set aside every difficulty.\nChilo came to his house unexpectedly.\n\nHe entered wretched and worn, with signs of hunger on his face and in\nrags; but the servants, who had the former command to admit him at\nall hours of the day or night, did not dare to detain him, so he went\nstraight to the atrium, and standing before Vinicius said,--\"May the\ngods give thee immortality, and share with thee dominion over the\nworld.\"\n\nVinicius at the first moment wished to give the order to throw him\nout of doors; but the thought came to him that the Greek perhaps knew\nsomething of Lygia, and curiosity overcame his disgust.\n\n\"Is that thou?\" asked he. \"What has happened to thee?\"\n\n\"Evil, O son of Jove,\" answered Chilo. \"Real virtue is a ware for which\nno one inquires now, and a genuine sage must be glad of this even, that\nonce in five days he has something with which to buy from the butcher a\nsheep's head, to gnaw in a garret, washing it down with his tears. Ah,\nlord! What thou didst give me I paid Atractus for books, and afterward\nI was robbed and ruined. The slave who was to write down my wisdom\nfled, taking the remnant of what thy generosity bestowed on me. I am\nin misery, but I thought to myself: To whom can I go, if not to thee, O\nSerapis, whom I love and deify, for whom I have exposed my life?\"\n\n\"Why hast thou come, and what dost thou bring?\"\n\n\"I come for aid, O Baal, and I bring my misery, my tears, my love, and\nfinally the information which through love for thee I have collected.\nThou rememberest, lord, I told thee once how I had given a slave of the\ndivine Petronius one thread from the girdle of the Paphian Venus? I know\nnow that it helped her, and thou, O descendant of the Sun, who knowest\nwhat is happening in that house, knowest also what Eunice is there. I\nhave another such thread. I have preserved it for thee, lord.\"\n\nHere he stopped, on noticing the anger which was gathering on the brows\nof Vinicius, and said quickly, so as to anticipate the outburst,--\n\n\"I know where the divine Lygia is living; I will show thee the street\nand the house.\"\n\nVinicius repressed the emotion with which that news filled him, and\nsaid,--\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"With Linus, the elder priest of the Christians. She is there with\nUrsus, who goes as before to the miller, a namesake of thy dispensator\nDemas. Yes, Demas! Ursus works in the night; so if thou surround the\nhouse at night, thou wilt not find him. Linus is old, and besides him\nthere are only two aged women in the house.\"\n\n\"Whence dost thou know all this?\"\n\n\"Thou rememberest, lord, that the Christians had me in their hands, and\nspared me. True, Glaucus was mistaken in thinking that I was the\ncause of his misfortunes; but he believed that I was, poor man, and he\nbelieves so yet. Still they spared me. Then be not astonished, lord,\nthat gratitude filled my heart. I am a man of former, of better times.\nThis was my thought: Am I to desert friends and benefactors? Would I not\nhave been hard-hearted not to inquire about them, not to learn what\nwas happening to them, how health was serving them, and where they were\nliving? By the Pessinian Cybele! I am not capable of such conduct.\nAt first I was restrained by fear that they might interpret my wishes\nincorrectly. But the love which I bore them proved greater than my fear,\nand the ease with which they forgive every injustice lent me special\ncourage. But above all I was thinking of thee, lord. Our last attempt\nended in defeat; but can such a son of Fortune be reconciled with\ndefeat? So I prepared victory for thee. The house stands apart. Thou\nmayst give command to thy slaves to surround it so that not a mouse\ncould escape. My lord, on thee alone it depends to have that magnanimous\nking's daughter in thy house this very night. But should that happen,\nremember that the cause of it is the very poor and hungry son of my\nfather.\"\n\nThe blood rushed to Vinicius's head. Temptation shook all his being\nagain. Yes; that was the method, and this time a certain one. Once\nhe has Lygia in his house, who can take her? Once he makes Lygia his\nmistress, what will be left to her, unless to remain so forever? And let\nall religions perish! What will the Christians mean to him then, with\ntheir mercy and forbidding faith? Is it not time to shake himself free\nof all that? Is it not time to live as all live? What will Lygia do\nlater, save to reconcile her fate with the religion which she professes?\nThat, too, is a question of inferior significance. Those are matters\ndevoid of importance. First of all, she will be his,--and his this very\nday. And it is a question, too, whether that religion will hold out\nin her soul against the world which is new to her, against luxury, and\nexcitements to which she must yield. All may happen to-day. He needs\nonly to detain Chilo, and give an order at dark. And then delight\nwithout end! \"What has my life been?\" thought Vinicius; \"suffering,\nunsatisfied desire, and an endless propounding of problems without\nanswer.\" In this way all will be cut short and ended. He recollected,\nit is true, that he had promised not to raise a hand against her. But by\nwhat had he sworn? Not by the gods, for he did not believe in them;\nnot by Christ, for he did not believe in him yet. Finally, if she feels\ninjured, he will marry her, and thus repair the wrong. Yes; to that he\nfeels bound, for to her he is indebted for life. Here he recalled the\nday in which with Croton he had attacked her retreat; he remembered the\nLygian's fist raised above him, and all that had happened later. He saw\nher again bent over his couch, dressed in the garb of a slave, beautiful\nas a divinity, a benefactress kind and glorified. His eyes passed to\nthe lararium unconsciously, and to the little cross which she left him\nbefore going. Will he pay for all that by a new attack? Will he drag her\nby the hair as a slave to his cubiculum? And how will he be able to do\nso, since he not only desires but loves her, and he loves her specially\nbecause she is as she is? All at once he felt that it was not enough for\nhim to have her in the house, it was not enough to seize her in his arms\nby superior force; he felt that his love needed something more,--her\nconsent, her loves and her soul. Blessed that roof, if she come under it\nwillingly; blessed the moment, blessed the day, blessed his life. Then\nthe happiness of both will be as inexhaustible as the ocean, as the sun.\nBut to seize her by violence would be to destroy that happiness forever,\nand at the same time to destroy, and defile that which is most precious\nand alone beloved in life. Terror seized him now at the very thought\nof this. He glanced at Chilo, who, while watching him, pushed his hands\nunder his rags and scratched himself uneasily. That instant, disgust\nunspeakable took possession of Vinicius, and a wish to trample that\nformer assistant of his, as he would a foul worm or venomous serpent. In\nan instant he knew what to do. But knowing no measure in anything, and\nfollowing the impulse of his stern Roman nature, he turned toward Chilo\nand said,--\n\n\"I will not do what thou advisest, but, lest thou go without just\nreward, I will command to give thee three hundred stripes in the\ndomestic prison.\"\n\nChilo grew pale. There was so much cold resolution in the beautiful face\nof Vinicius that he could not deceive himself for a moment with the hope\nthat the promised reward was no more than a cruel jest.\n\nHence he threw himself on his knees in one instant, and bending double\nbegan to groan in a broken voice,--\"How, O king of Persia? Why?--O\npyramid of kindness! Colossus of mercy! For what?--I am old, hungry,\nunfortunate--I have served thee--dost thou repay in this manner?\"\n\n\"As thou didst the Christians,\" said Vinicius. And he called the\ndispensator.\n\nBut Chilo sprang toward his feet, and, embracing them convulsively,\ntalked, while his face was covered with deathly pallor,--\"O lord, O\nlord! I am old! Fifty, not three hundred stripes. Fifty are enough! A\nhundred, not three hundred! Oh, mercy, mercy!\"\n\nVinicius thrust him away with his foot, and gave the order. In the\ntwinkle of an eye two powerful Quadi followed the dispensator, and,\nseizing Chilo by the remnant of his hair, tied his own rags around his\nneck and dragged him to the prison.\n\n\"In the name of Christ!\" called the Greek, at the exit of the corridor.\n\nVinicius was left alone. The order just issued roused and enlivened\nhim. He endeavored to collect his scattered thoughts, and bring them to\norder. He felt great relief, and the victory which he had gained over\nhimself filled him with comfort. He thought that he had made some great\napproach toward Lygia, and that some high reward should be given him.\nAt the first moment it did not even occur to him that he had done a\ngrievous wrong to Chilo, and had him flogged for the very acts for which\nhe had rewarded him previously. He was too much of a Roman yet to be\npained by another man's suffering, and to occupy his attention with one\nwretched Greek. Had he even thought of Chilo's suffering he would have\nconsidered that he had acted properly in giving command to punish such\na villain. But he was thinking of Lygia, and said to her: I will not pay\nthee with evil for good; and when thou shalt learn how I acted with\nhim who strove to persuade me to raise hands against thee, thou wilt be\ngrateful. But here he stopped at this thought: Would Lygia praise\nhis treatment of Chilo? The religion which she professes commands\nforgiveness; nay, the Christians forgave the villain, though they had\ngreater reasons for revenge. Then for the first time was heard in his\nsoul the cry: \"In the name of Christ!\" He remembered then that Chilo\nhad ransomed himself from the hands of Ursus with such a cry, and he\ndetermined to remit the remainder of the punishment.\n\nWith that object he was going to summon the dispensator, when that\nperson stood before him, and said,--\"Lord, the old man has fainted, and\nperhaps he is dead. Am I to command further flogging?\"\n\n\"Revive him and bring him before me.\"\n\nThe chief of the atrium vanished behind the curtain, but the revival\ncould not have been easy, for Vinicius waited a long time and was\ngrowing impatient, when the slaves brought in Chilo, and disappeared at\na signal.\n\nChilo was as pale as linen, and down his legs threads of blood were\nflowing to the mosaic pavement of the atrium. He was conscious, however,\nand, falling on his knees, began to speak, with extended hands,--\"Thanks\nto thee, lord. Thou art great and merciful.\"\n\n\"Dog,\" said Vinicius, \"know that I forgave thee because of that Christ\nto whom I owe my own life.\"\n\n\"O lord, I will serve Him and thee.\"\n\n\"Be silent and listen. Rise! Thou wilt go and show me the house in which\nLygia dwells.\"\n\nChilo sprang up; but he was barely on his feet when he grew more deathly\npale yet, and said in a failing voice,--\"Lord, I am really hungry--I\nwill go, lord, I will go! but I have not the strength. Command to give\nme even remnants from the plate of thy dog, and I will go.\"\n\nVinicius commanded to give him food, a piece of gold, and a mantle. But\nChilo, weakened by stripes and hunger, could not go to take food, though\nterror raised the hair on his head, lest Vinicius might mistake his\nweakness for stubbornness and command to flog him anew.\n\n\"Only let wine warm me,\" repeated he, with chattering teeth, \"I shall be\nable to go at once, even to Magna Græcia.\"\n\nHe regained some strength after a time, and they went out.\n\nThe way was long, for, like the majority of Christians, Linus dwelt in\nthe Trans-Tiber, and not far from Miriam. At last Chilo showed Vinicius\na small house, standing apart, surrounded by a wall covered entirely\nwith ivy, and said,\n\n\"Here it is, lord.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Vinicius, \"go thy way now, but listen first to what I tell\nthee. Forget that thou hast served me; forget where Miriam, Peter, and\nGlaucus dwell; forget also this house, and all Christians. Thou wilt\ncome every month to my house, where Demas, my freedman, will pay thee\ntwo pieces of gold. But shouldst thou spy further after Christians, I\nwill have thee flogged, or delivered into the hands of the prefect of\nthe city.\"\n\nChilo bowed down, and said,--\"I will forget.\"\n\nBut when Vinicius vanished beyond the corner of the street, he stretched\nhis hands after him, and, threatening with his fists, exclaimed,--\"By\nAte and the Furies! I will not forget!\"\n\nThen he grew faint again.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIII\n\n\nVINICIUS went directly to the house in which Miriam lived. Before the\ngate he met Nazarius, who was confused at sight of him; but greeting the\nlad cordially, he asked to be conducted to his mother's lodgings.\n\nBesides Miriam, Vinicius found Peter, Glaucus, Crispus, and Paul of\nTarsus, who had returned recently from Fregellæ. At sight of the young\ntribune, astonishment was reflected on all faces; but he said,--\"I greet\nyou in the name of Christ, whom ye honor.\"\n\n\"May His name be glorified forever!\" answered they.\n\n\"I have seen your virtue and experienced your kindness, hence I come as\na friend.\"\n\n\"And we greet thee as a friend,\" answered Peter. \"Sit down, lord, and\npartake of our refreshment, as a guest.\"\n\n\"I will sit down and share your repast; but first listen to me, thou\nPeter, and thou Paul of Tarsus, so that ye may know my sincerity. I know\nwhere Lygia is. I have returned from before the house of Linus, which is\nnear this dwelling. I have a right to her given me by Cæsar. I have at\nmy houses in the city nearly five hundred slaves. I might surround her\nhiding-place and seize her; still I have not done so, and will not.\"\n\n\"For this reason the blessing of the Lord will be upon thee, and thy\nheart will be purified,\" said Peter.\n\n\"I thank thee. But listen to me further: I have not done so, though I am\nliving in suffering and sadness. Before I knew you, I should have\ntaken her undoubtedly, and held her by force; but your virtue and your\nreligion, though I do not profess it, have changed something in my soul,\nso that I do not venture on violence. I know not myself why this is\nso, but it is so; hence I come to you, for ye take the place of Lygia's\nfather and mother, and I say to you: Give her to me as wife, and I swear\nthat not only will I not forbid her to confess Christ, but I will begin\nmyself to learn His religion.\"\n\nHe spoke with head erect and decisively; but still he was moved, and his\nlegs trembled beneath his mantle. When silence followed his words, he\ncontinued, as if wishing to anticipate an unfavorable answer,--\n\n\"I know what obstacles exist, but I love her as my own eyes; and though\nI am not a Christian yet, I am neither your enemy nor Christ's. I wish\nto be sincere, so that you may trust me. At this moment it is a question\nof life with me, still I tell you the truth. Another might say, Baptize\nme; I say, Enlighten me. I believe that Christ rose from the dead,\nfor people say so who love the truth, and who saw Him after death. I\nbelieve, for I have seen myself, that your religion produces virtue,\njustice, and mercy,--not crime, which is laid to your charge. I have not\nknown your religion much so far. A little from you, a little from your\nworks, a little from Lygia, a little from conversations with you. Still\nI repeat that it has made some change in me. Formerly I held my servants\nwith an iron hand; I cannot do so now. I knew no pity; I know it now. I\nwas fond of pleasure; the other night I fled from the pond of Agrippa,\nfor the breath was taken from me through disgust. Formerly I believed in\nsuperior force; now I have abandoned it. Know ye that I do not recognize\nmyself. I am disgusted by feasts, wine, singing, citharæ, garlands, the\ncourt of Cæsar, naked bodies, and every crime. When I think that Lygia\nis like snow in the mountains, I love her the more; and when I think\nthat she is what she is through your religion, I love and desire that\nreligion. But since I understand it not, since I know not whether I\nshall be able to live according to it, nor whether my nature can endure\nit, I am in uncertainty and suffering, as if I were in prison.\"\n\nHere his brows met in wrinkle of pain, and a flush appeared on his\ncheeks; after that he spoke on with growing haste and greater emotion,--\n\n\"As ye see, I am tortured from love and uncertainty. Men tell me that in\nyour religion there is no place for life, or human joy, or happiness, or\nlaw, or order, or authority, or Roman dominion. Is this true? Men tell\nme that ye are madmen; but tell me yourselves what ye bring. Is it a sin\nto love, a sin to feel joy, a sin to want happiness? Are ye enemies of\nlife? Must a Christian be wretched? Must I renounce Lygia? What is truth\nin your view? Your deeds and words are like transparent water, but what\nis under that water? Ye see that I am sincere. Scatter the darkness.\nMen say this to me also: Greece created beauty and wisdom, Rome created\npower; but they--what do they bring? Tell, then, what ye bring. If there\nis brightness beyond your doors, open them.\"\n\n\"We bring love,\" said Peter.\n\nAnd Paul of Tarsus added,--\"If I speak with the tongues of men and of\nangels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass.\"\n\nBut the heart of the old Apostle was stirred by that soul in suffering,\nwhich, like a bird in a cage, was struggling toward air and the sun;\nhence, stretching his hand to Vinicius, he said,--\"Whoso knocketh, to\nhim will be opened. The favor and grace of God is upon thee; for this\nreason I bless thee, thy soul and thy love, in the name of the Redeemer\nof mankind.\"\n\nVinicius, who had spoken with enthusiasm already, sprang toward Peter on\nhearing this blessing, and an uncommon thing happened. That descendant\nof Quirites, who till recently had not recognized humanity in a\nforeigner, seized the hand of the old Galilean, and pressed it in\ngratitude to his lips.\n\nPeter was pleased; for he understood that his sowing had fallen on an\nadditional field, that his fishing-net had gathered in a new soul.\n\nThose present, not less pleased by that evident expression of honor for\nthe Apostle of God, exclaimed in one voice,--\"Praise to the Lord in the\nhighest!\"\n\nVinicius rose with a radiant face, and began,--\"I see that happiness may\ndwell among you, for I feel happy, and I think that ye can convince me\nof other things in the same way. But I will add that this cannot happen\nin Rome. Cæsar is going to Antium and I must go with him, for I have the\norder. Ye know that not to obey is death. But if I have found favor in\nyour eyes, go with me to teach your truth. It will be safer for you than\nfor me. Even in that great throng of people, ye can announce your truth\nin the very court of Cæsar. They say that Acte is a Christian; and there\nare Christians among pretorians even, for I myself have seen soldiers\nkneeling before thee, Peter, at the Nomentan gate. In Antium I have\na villa where we shall assemble to hear your teaching, at the side of\nNero. Glaucus told me that ye are ready to go to the end of the earth\nfor one soul; so do for me what ye have done for those for whose sake ye\nhave come from Judea,--do it, and desert not my soul.\"\n\nHearing this, they began to take counsel, thinking with delight of the\nvictory of their religion, and of the significance for the pagan world\nwhich the conversion of an Augustian, and a descendant of one of the\noldest Roman families, would have. They were ready, indeed, to wander\nto the end of the earth for one human soul, and since the death of the\nMaster they had, in fact, done nothing else; hence a negative answer did\nnot even come to their minds. Peter was at that moment the pastor of a\nwhole multitude, hence he could not go; but Paul of Tarsus, who had been\nin Aricium and Fregellæ not long before, and who was preparing for a\nlong journey to the East to visit churches there and freshen them with a\nnew spirit of zeal, consented to accompany the young tribune to Antium.\nIt was easy to find a ship there going to Grecian waters.\n\nVinicius, though sad because Peter, to whom he owed so much, could not\nvisit Antium, thanked him with gratitude, and then turned to the old\nApostle with his last request,--\"Knowing Lygia's dwelling,\" said he, \"I\nmight have gone to her and asked, as is proper, whether she would take\nme as husband should my soul become Christian, but I prefer to ask thee,\nO Apostle! Permit me to see her, or take me thyself to her. I know not\nhow long I shall be in Antium; and remember that near Cæsar no one\nis sure of to-morrow. Petronius himself told me that I should not be\naltogether safe there. Let me see her before I go; let me delight my\neyes with her; and let me ask her if she will forget my evil and return\ngood.\"\n\nPeter smiled kindly and said,--\"But who could refuse thee a proper joy,\nmy son?\"\n\nVinicius stooped again to Peter's hands, for he could not in any way\nrestrain his overflowing heart. The Apostle took him by the temples and\nsaid,--\"Have no fear of Cæsar, for I tell thee that a hair will not fall\nfrom thy head.\"\n\nHe sent Miriam for Lygia, telling her not to say who was with them, so\nas to give the maiden more delight.\n\nIt was not far; so after a short time those in the chamber saw among the\nmyrtles of the garden Miriam leading Lygia by the hand.\n\nVinicius wished to run forth to meet her; but at sight of that beloved\nform happiness took his strength, and he stood with beating heart,\nbreathless, barely able to keep his feet, a hundred times more excited\nthan when for the first time in life he heard the Parthian arrows\nwhizzing round his head.\n\nShe ran in, unsuspecting; but at sight of him she halted as if fixed to\nthe earth. Her face flushed, and then became very pale; she looked with\nastonished and frightened eyes on those present.\n\nBut round about she saw clear glances, full of kindness. The Apostle\nPeter approached her and asked,--\"Lygia, dost thou love him as ever?\"\n\nA moment of silence followed. Her lips began to quiver like those of\na child who is preparing to cry, who feels that it is guilty, but sees\nthat it must confess the guilt.\n\n\"Answer,\" said the Apostle.\n\nThen, with humility, obedience, and fear in her voice, she whispered,\nkneeling at the knees of Peter,--\"I do.\"\n\nIn one moment Vinicius knelt at her side. Peter placed his hands on\ntheir heads, and said,--\"Love each other in the Lord and to His glory,\nfor there is no sin in your love.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIV\n\n\nWHILE walking with Lygia through the garden, Vinicius described briefly,\nin words from the depth of his heart, that which a short time before\nhe had confessed to the Apostles,--that is, the alarm of his soul,\nthe changes which had taken place in him, and, finally, that immense\nyearning which had veiled life from him, beginning with the hour when\nhe left Miriam's dwelling. He confessed to Lygia that he had tried to\nforget her, but was not able. He thought whole days and nights of her.\nThat little cross of boxwood twigs which she had left reminded him\nof her,--that cross, which he had placed in the lararium and revered\ninvoluntarily as something divine. And he yearned more and more\nevery moment, for love was stronger than he, and had seized his soul\naltogether, even when he was at the house of Aulus. The Parcæ weave the\nthread of life for others; but love, yearning, and melancholy had woven\nit for him. His acts had been evil, but they had their origin in love.\nHe had loved her when she was in the house of Aulus, when she was on the\nPalatine, when he saw her in Ostrianum listening to Peter's words, when\nhe went with Croton to carry her away, when she watched at his bedside,\nand when she deserted him. Then came Chilo, who discovered her dwelling,\nand advised him to seize her a second time; but he chose to punish\nChilo, and go to the Apostles to ask for truth and for her. And blessed\nbe that moment in which such a thought came to his head, for now he is\nat her side, and she will not flee from him, as the last time she fled\nfrom the house of Miriam.\n\n\"I did not flee from thee,\" said Lygia.\n\n\"Then why didst thou go?\"\n\nShe raised her iris-colored eyes to him, and, bending her blushing face,\nsaid,--\"Thou knowest--\"\n\nVinicius was silent for a moment from excess of happiness, and began\nagain to speak, as his eyes were opened gradually to this,--that she\nwas different utterly from Roman women, and resembled Pomponia alone.\nBesides, he could not explain this to her clearly, for he could not\ndefine his feeling,--that beauty of a new kind altogether was coming\nto the world in her, such beauty as had not been in it thus far; beauty\nwhich is not merely a statue, but a spirit. He told her something,\nhowever, which filled her with delight,--that he loved her just because\nshe had fled from him, and that she would be sacred to him at his\nhearth. Then, seizing her hand, he could not continue; he merely gazed\non her with rapture as on his life's happiness which he had won, and\nrepeated her name, as if to assure himself that he had found her and was\nnear her.\n\n\"Oh, Lygia, Lygia!\"\n\nAt last he inquired what had taken place in her mind, and she confessed\nthat she had loved him while in the house of Aulus, and that if he had\ntaken her back to them from the Palatine she would have told them of her\nlove and tried to soften their anger against him.\n\n\"I swear to thee,\" said Vinicius, \"that it had not even risen in my mind\nto take thee from Aulus. Petronius will tell thee sometime that I told\nhim then how I loved and wished to marry thee. 'Let her anoint my door\nwith wolf fat, and let her sit at my hearth,' said I to him. But he\nridiculed me, and gave Cæsar the idea of demanding thee as a hostage and\ngiving thee to me. How often in my sorrow have I cursed him; but\nperhaps fate ordained thus, for otherwise I should not have known the\nChristians, and should not have understood thee.\"\n\n\"Believe me, Marcus,\" replied Lygia, \"it was Christ who led thee to\nHimself by design.\"\n\nVinicius raised his head with a certain astonishment.\n\n\"True,\" answered he, with animation. \"Everything fixed itself so\nmarvellously that in seeking thee I met the Christians. In Ostrianum I\nlistened to the Apostle with wonder, for I had never heard such words.\nAnd there thou didst pray for me?\"\n\n\"I did,\" answered Lygia.\n\nThey passed near the summer-house covered with thick ivy, and approached\nthe place where Ursus, after stifling Croton, threw himself upon\nVinicius.\n\n\"Here,\" said the young man, \"I should have perished but for thee.\"\n\n\"Do not mention that,\" answered Lygia, \"and do not speak of it to\nUrsus.\"\n\n\"Could I be revenged on him for defending thee? Had he been a slave, I\nshould have given him freedom straightway.\"\n\n\"Had he been a slave, Aulus would have freed him long ago.\"\n\n\"Dost thou remember,\" asked Vinicius, \"that I wished to take thee back\nto Aulus, but the answer was, that Cæsar might hear of it and take\nrevenge on Aulus and Pomponia? Think of this: thou mayst see them now as\noften as thou wishest.\"\n\n\"How, Marcus?\"\n\n\"I say 'now,' and I think that thou wilt be able to see them without\ndanger, when thou art mine. For should Cæsar hear of this, and ask what\nI did with the hostage whom he gave me, I should say 'I married her, and\nshe visits the house of Aulus with my consent.' He will not remain long\nin Antium, for he wishes to go to Achæa; and even should he remain, I\nshall not need to see him daily. When Paul of Tarsus teaches me your\nfaith, I will receive baptism at once, I will come here, gain the\nfriendship of Aulus and Pomponia, who will return to the city by that\ntime, and there will be no further hindrance, I will seat thee at my\nhearth. Oh, carissima! carissima!\"\n\nAnd he stretched forth his hand, as if taking Heaven as witness of his\nlove; and Lygia, raising her clear eyes to him, said,--\n\n\"And then I shall say, 'Wherever thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.'\"\n\n\"No, Lygia,\" cried Vinicius, \"I swear to thee that never has woman been\nso honored in the house of her husband as thou shalt be in mine.\"\n\nFor a time they walked on in silence, without being able to take in\nwith their breasts their happiness, in love with each other, like two\ndeities, and as beautiful as if spring had given them to the world with\nthe flowers.\n\nThey halted at last under the cypress growing near the entrance of the\nhouse. Lygia leaned against his breast, and Vinicius began to entreat\nagain with a trembling voice,--\"Tell Ursus to go to the house of Aulus\nfor thy furniture and playthings of childhood.\"\n\nBut she, blushing like a rose or like the dawn, answered,--\"Custom\ncommands otherwise.\"\n\n\"I know that. The pronuba [The matron who accompanies the bride and\nexplains to her the duties of a wife] usually brings them behind the\nbride, but do this for me. I will take them to my villa in Antium, and\nthey will remind me of thee.\"\n\nHere he placed his hands together and repeated, like a child who is\nbegging for something,--\"It will be some days before Pomponia returns;\nso do this, diva, do this, carissima.\"\n\n\"But Pomponia will do as she likes,\" answered Lygia, blushing still more\ndeeply at mention of the pronuba.\n\nAnd again they were silent, for love had begun to stop the breath in\ntheir breasts. Lygia stood with shoulders leaning against the cypress,\nher face whitening in the shadow, like a flower, her eyes drooping, her\nbosom heaving with more and more life. Vinicius changed in the face, and\ngrew pale. In the silence of the afternoon they only heard the beating\nof their hearts, and in their mutual ecstasy that cypress, the myrtle\nbushes, and the ivy of the summer-house became for them a paradise of\nlove. But Miriam appeared in the door, and invited them to the afternoon\nmeal. They sat down then with the Apostles, who gazed at them with\npleasure, as on the young generation which after their death would\npreserve and sow still further the seed of the new faith. Peter broke\nand blessed bread. There was calm on all faces, and a certain immense\nhappiness seemed to overflow the whole house.\n\n\"See,\" said Paul at last, turning to Vinicius, \"are we enemies of life\nand happiness?\"\n\n\"I know how that is,\" answered Vinicius, \"for never have I been so happy\nas among you.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXV\n\n\nON the evening of that day Vinicius, while returning home through the\nForum, saw at the entrance to the Vicus Tuscus the gilded litter of\nPetronius, carried by eight stalwart Bithynians, and, stopping it with a\nsign of his hand, he approached the curtains.\n\n\"Thou hast had a pleasant dream, I trust, and a happy one!\" cried he,\nlaughing at sight of the slumbering Petronius.\n\n\"Oh, is it thou?\" said Petronius, waking up. \"Yes; I dropped asleep for\na moment, as I passed the night at the Palatine. I have come out to buy\nsomething to read on the road to Antium. What is the news?\"\n\n\"Art thou visiting the book-shops?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"Yes, I do not like to bring disorder into my library, so I am\ncollecting a special supply for the journey. It is likely that some\nnew things of Musonius and Seneca have come out. I am looking also for\nPersius, and a certain edition of the Eclogues of Vergilius, which I do\nnot possess. Oh, how tired I am; and how my hands ache from covers and\nrings! For when a man is once in a book-shop curiosity seizes him\nto look here and there. I was at the shop of Avirnus, and at that of\nAtractus on the Argiletum, and with the Sozii on Vicus Sandalarius. By\nCastor! how I want to sleep!\"\n\n\"Thou wert on the Palatine? Then I would ask thee what is it to be heard\nthere? Or, knowest what?--send home the litter and the tubes with books,\nand come to my house. We will talk of Antium, and of something else.\"\n\n\"That is well,\" answered Petronius, coming out of the litter. \"Thou must\nknow, besides, that we start for Antium the day after to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Whence should I know that?\"\n\n\"In what world art thou living? Well, I shall be the first to announce\nthe news to thee. Yes; be ready for the day after to-morrow in the\nmorning. Peas in olive oil have not helped, a cloth around his thick\nneck has not helped, and Bronzebeard is hoarse. In view of this, delay\nis not to be mentioned. He curses Rome and its atmosphere, with what the\nworld stands on; he would be glad to level it to the earth or to destroy\nit with fire, and he longs for the sea at the earliest. He says that\nthe smells which the wind brings from the narrow streets are driving him\ninto the grave. To-day great sacrifices were offered in all the temples\nto restore his voice; and woe to Rome, but especially to the Senate,\nshould it not return quickly!\"\n\n\"Then there would be no reason for his visit to Achæa?\"\n\n\"But is that the only talent possessed by our divine Cæsar?\" asked\nPetronius, smiling. \"He would appear in the Olympic games, as a poet,\nwith his 'Burning of Troy'; as a charioteer, as a musician, as an\nathlete,--nay, even as a dancer, and would receive in every case all\nthe crowns intended for victors. Dost know why that monkey grew hoarse?\nYesterday he wanted to equal our Paris in dancing, and danced for us the\nadventures of Leda, during which he sweated and caught cold. He was as\nwet and slippery as an eel freshly taken from water. He changed masks\none after another, whirled like a spindle, waved his hands like a\ndrunken sailor, till disgust seized me while looking at that great\nstomach and those slim legs. Paris taught him during two weeks; but\nimagine to thyself Ahenobarbus as Leda or as the divine swan. That was a\nswan!--there is no use in denying it. But he wants to appear before the\npublic in that pantomime,--first in Antium, and then in Rome.\"\n\n\"People are offended already because he sang in public; but to think\nthat a Roman Cæsar will appear as a mime! No; even Rome will not endure\nthat!\"\n\n\"My dear friend, Rome will endure anything; the Senate will pass a vote\nof thanks to the 'Father of his country.' And the rabble will be elated\nbecause Cæsar is its buffoon.\"\n\n\"Say thyself, is it possible to be more debased?\"\n\nPetronius shrugged his shoulders. \"Thou art living by thyself at home,\nand meditating, now about Lygia, now about Christians, so thou knowest\nnot, perhaps, what happened two days since. Nero married, in public,\nPythagoras, who appeared as a bride. That passed the measure of madness,\nit would seem, would it not? And what wilt thou say? the flamens, who\nwere summoned, came and performed the ceremony with solemnity. I was\npresent. I can endure much; still I thought, I confess, that the gods,\nif there be any, should give a sign. But Cæsar does not believe in the\ngods, and he is right.\"\n\n\"So he is in one person chief priest, a god, and an atheist,\" said\nVinicius.\n\n\"True,\" said Petronius, beginning to laugh. \"That had not entered my\nhead; but the combination is such as the world has not seen.\" Then,\nstopping a moment, he said: \"One should add that this chief priest who\ndoes not believe in the gods, and this god who reviles the gods, fears\nthem in his character of atheist.\"\n\n\"The proof of this is what happened in the temple of Vesta.\" \"What a\nsociety!\"\n\n\"As the society is, so is Cæsar. But this will not last long.\"\n\nThus conversing, they entered the house of Vinicius, who called for\nsupper joyously; then, turning to Petronius he said,--\"No, my dear,\nsociety must be renewed.\"\n\n\"We shall not renew it,\" answered Petronius, \"even for the reason that\nin Nero's time man is like a butterfly,--he lives in the sunshine of\nfavor, and at the first cold wind he perishes, even against his will.\nBy the son of Maia! more than once have I given myself this question: By\nwhat miracle has such a man as Lucius Saturninus been able to reach the\nage of ninety-three, to survive Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius? But never\nmind. Wilt thou permit me to send thy litter for Eunice? My wish to\nsleep has gone, somehow, and I should like to be joyous. Give command\nto cithara players to come to the supper, and afterward we will talk of\nAntium. It is needful to think of it, especially for thee.\"\n\nVinicius gave the order to send for Eunice, but declared that he had no\nthought of breaking his head over the stay in Antium.\n\n\"Let those break their heads who cannot live otherwise than in the rays\nof Cæsar's favor. The world does not end on the Palatine, especially for\nthose who have something else in their hearts and souls.\"\n\nHe said this so carelessly and with such animation and gladness that\nhis whole manner struck Petronius; hence, looking for a time at him, he\nasked,--\"What is taking place in thee? Thou art to-day as thou wert when\nwearing the golden bulla on thy neck.\"\n\n\"I am happy,\" answered Vinicius. \"I have invited thee purposely to tell\nthee so.\"\n\n\"What has happened?\"\n\n\"Something which I would not give for the Roman Empire.\"\n\nThen he sat down, and, leaning on the arm of the chair, rested his head\non his hand, and asked,--\"Dost remember how we were at the house of\nAulus Plautius, and there thou didst see for the first time the godlike\nmaiden called by thee 'the dawn and the spring'? Dost remember that\nPsyche, that incomparable, that one more beautiful than our maidens and\nour goddesses?\"\n\nPetronius looked at him with astonishment, as if he wished to make sure\nthat his head was right.\n\n\"Of whom art thou speaking?\" asked he at last. \"Evidently I remember\nLygia.\"\n\n\"I am her betrothed.\"\n\n\"What!\"\n\nBut Vinicius sprang up and called his dispensator.\n\n\"Let the slaves stand before me to the last soul, quickly!\"\n\n\"Art thou her betrothed?\" repeated Petronius.\n\nBut before he recovered from his astonishment the immense atrium was\nswarming with people. Panting old men ran in, men in the vigor of life,\nwomen, boys, and girls. With each moment the atrium was filled more\nand more; in corridors, called \"fauces,\" voices were heard calling in\nvarious languages. Finally, all took their places in rows at the walls\nand among the columns. Vinicius, standing near the impluvium, turned to\nDemas, the freedman, and said,--\n\n\"Those who have served twenty years in my house are to appear tomorrow\nbefore the pretor, where they will receive freedom; those who have not\nserved out the time will receive three pieces of gold and double rations\nfor a week. Send an order to the village prisons to remit punishment,\nstrike the fetters from people's feet, and feed them sufficiently. Know\nthat a happy day has come to me, and I wish rejoicing in the house.\"\n\nFor a moment they stood in silence, as if not believing their ears;\nthen all hands were raised at once, and all mouths cried,--\"A-a! lord!\na-a-a!\"\n\nVinicius dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Though they desired to\nthank him and to fall at his feet, they went away hurriedly, filling the\nhouse with happiness from cellar to roof.\n\n\"To-morrow,\" said Vinicius, \"I will command them to meet again in the\ngarden, and to make such signs on the ground as they choose. Lygia will\nfree those who draw a fish.\"\n\nPetronius, who never wondered long at anything, had grown indifferent,\nand asked,--\"A fish, is it? Ah, ha! According to Chilo, that is the sign\nof a Christian, I remember.\" Then he extended his hand to Vinicius, and\nsaid: \"Happiness is always where a man sees it. May Flora strew flowers\nunder thy feet for long years. I wish thee everything which thou wishest\nthyself.\"\n\n\"I thank thee, for I thought that thou wouldst dissuade me, and that, as\nthou seest, would be time lost.\"\n\n\"I? Dissuade? By no means. On the contrary, I tell thee that thou art\ndoing well.\"\n\n\"Ha, traitor!\" answered Vinicius, joyfully; \"hast forgotten what thou\ndidst tell me once when we were leaving the house of Pomponia Græcina?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Petronius, with cool blood; \"but I have changed my\nopinion. My dear,\" added he after a while, \"in Rome everything changes.\nHusbands change wives, wives change husbands; why should not I change\nopinions? It lacked little of Nero's marrying Acte, whom for his sake\nthey represented as the descendant of a kingly line. Well, he would have\nhad an honest wife, and we an honest Augusta. By Proteus and his barren\nspaces in the sea! I shall change my opinion as often as I find it\nappropriate or profitable. As to Lygia, her royal descent is more\ncertain than Acte's. But in Antium be on thy guard against Poppæa, who\nis revengeful.\"\n\n\"I do not think of doing so. A hair will not fall from my head in\nAntium.\"\n\n\"If thou think to astonish me a second time, thou art mistaken; but\nwhence hast thou that certainty?\"\n\n\"The Apostle Peter told me so.\"\n\n\"Ah, the Apostle Peter told thee! Against that there is no argument;\npermit me, however, to take certain measures of precaution even to\nthis end, that the Apostle Peter may not turn out a false prophet; for,\nshould the Apostle be mistaken, perchance he might lose thy confidence,\nwhich certainly will be of use to him in the future.\"\n\n\"Do what may please thee, but I believe him. And if thou think to turn\nme against him by repeating his name with irony, thou art mistaken.\"\n\n\"But one question more. Hast thou become a Christian?\"\n\n\"Not yet; but Paul of Tarsus will travel with me to explain the\nteachings of Christ, and afterward I will receive baptism; for thy\nstatement that they are enemies of life and pleasantness is not true.\"\n\n\"All the better for thee and Lygia,\" answered Petronius; then, shrugging\nhis shoulders, he said, as if to himself, \"But it is astonishing how\nskilled those people are in gaining adherents, and how that sect is\nextending.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Vinicius, with as much warmth as if he had been baptized\nalready; \"there are thousands and tens of thousands of them in Rome, in\nthe cities of Italy, in Greece and Asia. There are Christians among\nthe legions and among the pretorians; they are in the palace of Cæsar\nitself. Slaves and citizens, poor and rich, plebeian and patrician,\nconfess that faith. Dost thou know that the Cornelii are Christians,\nthat Pomponia Græcina is a Christian, that likely Octavia was, and Acte\nis? Yes, that teaching will embrace the world, and it alone is able to\nrenew it. Do not shrug thy shoulders, for who knows whether in a month\nor a year thou wilt not receive it thyself?\"\n\n\"I?\" said Petronius. \"No, by the son of Leto! I will not receive it;\neven if the truth and wisdom of gods and men were contained in it. That\nwould require labor, and I have no fondness for labor. Labor demands\nself-denial, and I will not deny myself anything. With thy nature, which\nis like fire and boiling water, something like this may happen any time.\nBut I? I have my gems, my cameos, my vases, my Eunice. I do not believe\nin Olympus, but I arrange it on earth for myself; and I shall flourish\ntill the arrows of the divine archer pierce me, or till Cæsar commands\nme to open my veins. I love the odor of violets too much, and a\ncomfortable triclinium. I love even our gods, as rhetorical figures,\nand Achæa, to which I am preparing to go with our fat, thin-legged,\nincomparable, godlike Cæsar, the august period-compelling Hercules,\nNero.\"\n\nThen he was joyous at the very supposition that he could accept the\nteaching of Galilean fishermen, and began to sing in an undertone,--\n\n\"I will entwine my bright sword in myrtle, After the example of\nHarmodius and Aristogiton.\"\n\nBut he stopped, for the arrival of Eunice was announced. Immediately\nafter her coming supper was served, during which songs were sung by the\ncithara players; Vinicius told of Chilo's visit, and also how that visit\nhad given the idea of going to the Apostles directly,--an idea which\ncame to him while they were flogging Chilo.\n\nAt mention of this, Petronius, who began to be drowsy, placed his hand\non his forehead, and said,--\"The thought was good, since the object was\ngood. But as to Chilo, I should have given him five pieces of gold; but\nas it was thy will to flog him, it was better to flog him, for who knows\nbut in time senators will bow to him, as to-day they are bowing to our\ncobbler-knight, Vatinius. Good-night.\"\n\nAnd, removing his wreath, he, with Eunice, prepared for home. When they\nhad gone, Vinicius went to his library and wrote to Lygia as follows:--\n\n\"When thou openest thy beautiful eyes, I wish this letter to say\nGood-day! to thee. Hence I write now, though I shall see thee tomorrow.\nCæsar will go to Antium after to-morrow,--and I, eheu! must go with him.\nI have told thee already that not to obey would be to risk life--and at\npresent I could not find courage to die. But if thou wish me not to go,\nwrite one word, and I will stay. Petronius will turn away danger from me\nwith a speech. To-day, in the hour of my delight, I gave rewards to all\nmy slaves; those who have served in the house twenty years I shall take\nto the pretor to-morrow and free. Thou, my dear, shouldst praise me,\nsince this act as I think will be in accord with that mild religion\nof thine; secondly, I do this for thy sake. They are to thank thee\nfor their freedom. I shall tell them so to-morrow, so that they may\nbe grateful to thee and praise thy name. I give myself in bondage to\nhappiness and thee. God grant that I never see liberation. May Antium be\ncursed, and the journey of Ahenobarbus! Thrice and four times happy am\nI in not being so wise as Petronius; if I were, I should be forced to\ngo to Greece perhaps. Meanwhile the moment of separation will sweeten my\nmemory of thee. Whenever I can tear myself away, I shall sit on a horse,\nand rush back to Rome, to gladden my eyes with sight of thee, and my\nears with thy voice. When I cannot come I shall send a slave with\na letter, and an inquiry about thee. I salute thee, divine one, and\nembrace thy feet. Be not angry that I call thee divine. If thou forbid,\nI shall obey, but to-day I cannot call thee otherwise. I congratulate\nthee on thy future house with my whole soul.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVI\n\n\nIT was known in Rome that Cæsar wished to see Ostia on the journey, or\nrather the largest ship in the world, which had brought wheat recently\nfrom Alexandria, and from Ostia to go by the Via Littoralis to Antium.\nOrders had been given a number of days earlier; hence at the Porta\nOstiensis, from early morning, crowds made up of the local rabble and\nof all nations of the earth had collected to feast their eyes with the\nsight of Cæsar's retinue, on which the Roman population could never gaze\nsufficiently. The road to Antium was neither difficult nor long. In\nthe place itself, which was composed of palaces and villas built\nand furnished in a lordly manner, it was possible to find everything\ndemanded by comfort, and even the most exquisite luxury of the period.\nCæsar had the habit, however, of taking with him on a journey every\nobject in which he found delight, beginning with musical instruments\nand domestic furniture, and ending with statues and mosaics, which were\ntaken even when he wished to remain on the road merely a short time for\nrest or recreation. He was accompanied, therefore, on every expedition\nby whole legions of servants, without reckoning divisions of pretorian\nguards, and Augustians; of the latter each had a personal retinue of\nslaves.\n\nEarly on the morning of that day herdsmen from the Campania, with\nsunburnt faces, wearing goat-skins on their legs, drove forth five\nhundred she-asses through the gates, so that Poppæa on the morrow of her\narrival at Antium might have her bath in their milk. The rabble gazed\nwith delight and ridicule at the long ears swaying amid clouds of dust,\nand listened with pleasure to the whistling of whips and the wild shouts\nof the herdsmen. After the asses had gone by, crowds of youth rushed\nforth, swept the road carefully, and covered it with flowers and needles\nfrom pine-trees. In the crowds people whispered to each other, with a\ncertain feeling of pride, that the whole road to Antium would be strewn\nin that way with flowers taken from private gardens round about, or\nbought at high prices from dealers at the Porta Mugionis. As the morning\nhours passed, the throng increased every moment. Some had brought their\nwhole families, and, lest the time might seem tedious, they spread\nprovisions on stones intended for the new temple of Ceres, and ate their\nprandium beneath the open sky. Here and there were groups, in which\nthe lead was taken by persons who had travelled; they talked of Cæsar's\npresent trip, of his future journeys, and journeys in general. Sailors\nand old soldiers narrated wonders which during distant campaigns\nthey had heard about countries which a Roman foot had never touched.\nHome-stayers, who had never gone beyond the Appian Way, listened with\namazement to marvellous tales of India, of Arabia, of archipelagos\nsurrounding Britain in which, on a small island inhabited by spirits,\nBriareus had imprisoned the sleeping Saturn. They heard of hyperborean\nregions of stiffened seas, of the hisses and roars which the ocean gives\nforth when the sun plunges into his bath. Stories of this kind found\nready credence among the rabble, stories believed by such men even as\nTacitus and Pliny. They spoke also of that ship which Cæsar was to\nlook at,--a ship which had brought wheat to last for two years, without\nreckoning four hundred passengers, an equal number of soldiers, and\na multitude of wild beasts to be used during the summer games. This\nproduced general good feeling toward Cæsar, who not only nourished the\npopulace, but amused it. Hence a greeting full of enthusiasm was waiting\nfor him.\n\nMeanwhile came a detachment of Numidian horse, who belonged to the\npretorian guard. They wore yellow uniforms, red girdles, and great\nearrings, which cast a golden gleam on their black faces. The points of\ntheir bamboo spears glittered like flames, in the sun. After they had\npassed, a procession-like movement began. The throng crowded forward to\nlook at it more nearly; but divisions of pretorian foot were there, and,\nforming in line on both sides of the gate, prevented approach to the\nroad. In advance moved wagons carrying tents, purple, red, and violet,\nand tents of byssus woven from threads as white as snow; and oriental\ncarpets, and tables of citrus, and pieces of mosaic, and kitchen\nutensils, and cages with birds from the East, North, and West, birds\nwhose tongues or brains were to go to Cæsar's table, and vessels with\nwine and baskets with fruit. But objects not to be exposed to bruising\nor breaking in vehicles were borne by slaves. Hence hundreds of people\nwere seen on foot, carrying vessels, and statues of Corinthian bronze.\nThere were companies appointed specially to Etruscan vases; others to\nGrecian; others to golden or silver vessels, or vessels of Alexandrian\nglass. These were guarded by small detachments of pretorian infantry and\ncavalry; over each division of slaves were taskmasters, holding whips\narmed at the end with lumps of lead or iron, instead of snappers. The\nprocession, formed of men bearing with importance and attention\nvarious objects, seemed like some solemn religious procession; and the\nresemblance grew still more striking when the musical instruments of\nCæsar and the court were borne past. There were seen harps, Grecian\nlutes, lutes of the Hebrews and Egyptians, lyres, formingas, citharas,\nflutes, long, winding buffalo horns and cymbals. While looking at that\nsea of instruments, gleaming beneath the sun in gold, bronze, precious\nstones, and pearls, it might be imagined that Apollo and Bacchus had\nset out on a journey through the world. After the instruments came\nrich chariots filled with acrobats, dancers male and female, grouped\nartistically, with wands in their hands. After them followed slaves\nintended, not for service, but excess; so there were boys and little\ngirls, selected from all Greece and Asia Minor, with long hair, or with\nwinding curls arranged in golden nets, children resembling Cupids, with\nwonderful faces, but faces covered completely with a thick coating\nof cosmetics, lest the wind of the Campania might tan their delicate\ncomplexions.\n\nAnd again appeared a pretorian cohort of gigantic Sicambrians,\nblue-eyed, bearded, blond and red haired. In front of them Roman\neagles were carried by banner-bearers called \"imaginarii,\" tablets with\ninscriptions, statues of German and Roman gods, and finally statues and\nbusts of Cæsar. From under the skins and armor of the soldier appeared\nlimbs sunburnt and mighty, looking like military engines capable\nof wielding the heavy weapons with which guards of that kind were\nfurnished. The earth seemed to bend beneath their measured and weighty\ntread. As if conscious of strength which they could use against\nCæsar himself, they looked with contempt on the rabble of the street,\nforgetting, it was evident, that many of themselves had come to that\ncity in manacles. But they were insignificant in numbers, for the\npretorian force had remained in camp specially to guard the city and\nhold it within bounds. When they had marched past, Nero's chained\nlions and tigers were led by, so that, should the wish come to him of\nimitating Dionysus, he would have them to attach to his chariots. They\nwere led in chains of steel by Arabs and Hindoos, but the chains were\nso entwined with garlands that the beasts seemed led with flowers. The\nlions and tigers, tamed by skilled trainers, looked at the crowds with\ngreen and seemingly sleepy eyes; but at moments they raised their giant\nheads, and breathed through wheezing nostrils the exhalations of the\nmultitude, licking their jaws the while with spiny tongues.\n\nNow came Cæsar's vehicles and litters, great and small, gold or purple,\ninlaid with ivory or pearls, or glittering with diamonds; after them\ncame another small cohort of pretorians in Roman armor, pretorians\ncomposed of Italian volunteers only;* then crowds of select slave\nservants, and boys; and at last came Cæsar himself, whose approach was\nheralded from afar by the shouts of thousands.\n\n[* The inhabitants of Italy were freed from military service by\nAugustus, in consequence of which the so-called cohors Italica,\nstationed generally in Asia, was composed of volunteers. The pretorian\nguards, in so far as they were not composed of foreigners, were made up\nof volunteers.]\n\nIn the crowd was the Apostle Peter, who wished to see Cæsar once in\nlife. He was accompanied by Lygia, whose face was hidden by a thick\nveil, and Ursus, whose strength formed the surest defence of the young\ngirl in the wild and boisterous crowd. The Lygian seized a stone to be\nused in building the temple, and brought it to the Apostle, so that by\nstanding on it he might see better than others.\n\nThe crowd muttered when Ursus pushed it apart, as a ship pushes waves;\nbut when he carried the stone, which four of the strongest men could not\nraise, the muttering was turned into wonderment, and cries of \"Macte!\"\nwere heard round about.\n\nMeanwhile Cæsar appeared. He was sitting in a chariot drawn by six white\nIdumean stallions shod with gold. The chariot had the form of a tent\nwith sides open, purposely, so that the crowds could see Cæsar. A number\nof persons might have found place in the chariot; but Nero, desiring\nthat attention should be fixed on him exclusively, passed through the\ncity alone, having at his feet merely two deformed dwarfs. He wore a\nwhite tunic, and a toga of amethyst color, which cast a bluish tinge\non his face. On his head was a laurel wreath. Since his departure from\nNaples he had increased notably in body. His face had grown wide; under\nhis lower jaw hung a double chin, by which his mouth, always too near\nhis nose, seemed to touch his nostrils. His bulky neck was protected, as\nusual, by a silk kerchief, which he arranged from moment to moment with\na white and fat hand grown over with red hair, forming as it were bloody\nstains; he would not permit epilatores to pluck out this hair, since\nhe had been told that to do so would bring trembling of the fingers and\ninjure his lute-playing. Measureless vanity was depicted then, as at all\ntimes, on his face, together with tedium and suffering. On the whole, it\nwas a face both terrible and trivial. While advancing he turned his head\nfrom side to side, blinking at times, and listening carefully to the\nmanner in which the multitude greeted him. He was met by a storm of\nshouts and applause: \"Hail, divine Cæsar! Imperator, hail, conqueror!\nhail, incomparable!--Son of Apollo, Apollo himself!\"\n\nWhen he heard these words, he smiled; but at moments a cloud, as it\nwere, passed over his face, for the Roman rabble was satirical and keen\nin reckoning, and let itself criticise even great triumphators, even men\nwhom it loved and respected. It was known that on a time they shouted\nduring the entrance to Rome of Julius Cæsar: \"Citizens, hide your wives;\nthe old libertine is coming!\" But Nero's monstrous vanity could not\nendure the least blame or criticism; meanwhile in the throng, amid\nshouts of applause were heard cries of \"Ahenobarbus, Ahenobarbus! Where\nhast thou put thy flaming beard? Dost thou fear that Rome might catch\nfire from it?\" And those who cried out in that fashion knew not that\ntheir jest concealed a dreadful prophecy.\n\nThese voices did not anger Cæsar overmuch, since he did not wear a\nbeard, for long before he had devoted it in a golden cylinder to Jupiter\nCapitolinus. But other persons, hidden behind piles of stones and the\ncorners of temples, shouted: \"Matricide! Nero! Orestes! Alcmæon!\" and\nstill others: \"Where is Octavia?\" \"Surrender the purple!\" At Poppæa, who\ncame directly after him, they shouted, \"Flava coma (yellow hair)!!\" with\nwhich name they indicated a street-walker. Cæsar's musical ear caught\nthese exclamations also, and he raised the polished emerald to his eyes\nas if to see and remember those who uttered them. While looking thus,\nhis glance rested on the Apostle standing on the stone.\n\nFor a while those two men looked at each other. It occurred to no one\nin that brilliant retinue, and to no one in that immense throng, that at\nthat moment two powers of the earth were looking at each other, one of\nwhich would vanish quickly as a bloody dream, and the other, dressed\nin simple garments, would seize in eternal possession the world and the\ncity.\n\nMeanwhile Cæsar had passed; and immediately after him eight Africans\nbore a magnificent litter, in which sat Poppæa, who was detested by\nthe people. Arrayed, as was Nero, in amethyst color, with a thick\napplication of cosmetics on her face, immovable, thoughtful,\nindifferent, she looked like some beautiful and wicked divinity carried\nin procession. In her wake followed a whole court of servants, male and\nfemale, next a line of wagons bearing materials of dress and use.\nThe sun had sunk sensibly from midday when the passage of Augustians\nbegan,--a brilliant glittering line gleaming like an endless serpent.\nThe indolent Petronius, greeted kindly by the multitude, had given\ncommand to bear him and his godlike slave in a litter. Tigellinus went\nin a chariot drawn by ponies ornamented with white and purple feathers,\nThey saw him as he rose in the chariot repeatedly, and stretched his\nneck to see if Cæsar was preparing to give him the sign to go his\nchariot. Among others the crowd greeted Licinianus with applause,\nVitelius with laughter, Vatinius with hissing. Towards Licinus and\nLecanius the consuls they were indifferent, but Tullius Senecio they\nloved, it was unknown why, and Vestinius received applause.\n\nThe court was innumerable. It seemed that all that was richest, most\nbrilliant and noted in Rome, was migrating to Antium. Nero never\ntravelled otherwise than with thousands of vehicles; the society which\naccompanied him almost always exceeded the number of soldiers in a\nlegion. [In the time of the Cæsars a legion was always 12,000 men.]\nHence Domitius Afer appeared, and the decrepit Lucius Saturninus; and\nVespasian, who had not gone yet on his expedition to Judea, from which\nhe returned for the crown of Cæsar, and his sons, and young Nerva,\nand Lucan, and Annius Gallo, and Quintianus, and a multitude of women\nrenowned for wealth, beauty, luxury, and vice.\n\nThe eyes of the multitude were turned to the harness, the chariots, the\nhorses, the strange livery of the servants, made up of all peoples of\nthe earth. In that procession of pride and grandeur one hardly knew\nwhat to look at; and not only the eye, but the mind, was dazzled by\nsuch gleaming of gold, purple, and violet, by the flashing of precious\nstones, the glitter of brocade, pearls, and ivory. It seemed that the\nvery rays of the sun were dissolving in that abyss of brilliancy. And\nthough wretched people were not lacking in that throng, people with\nsunken stomachs, and with hunger in their eyes, that spectacle inflamed\nnot only their desire of enjoyment and their envy, but filled them\nwith delight and pride, because it gave a feeling of the might and\ninvincibility of Rome, to which the world contributed, and before which\nthe world knelt. Indeed there was not on earth any one who ventured to\nthink that that power would not endure through all ages, and outlive all\nnations, or that there was anything in existence that had strength to\noppose it.\n\nVinicius, riding at the end of the retinue, sprang out of his chariot\nat sight of the Apostle and Lygia, whom he had not expected to see, and,\ngreeting them with a radiant face, spoke with hurried voice, like a\nman who has no time to spare,--\"Hast thou come? I know not how to thank\nthee, O Lygia! God could not have sent me a better omen. I greet thee\neven while taking farewell, but not farewell for a long time. On the\nroad I shall dispose relays of horses, and every free day I shall come\nto thee till I get leave to return.--Farewell!\"\n\n\"Farewell, Marcus!\" answered Lygia; then she added in a lower voice:\n\"May Christ go with thee, and open thy soul to Paul's word.\"\n\nHe was glad at heart that she was concerned about his becoming a\nChristian soon; hence he answered,--\n\n\"Ocelle mi! let it be as thou sayest. Paul prefers to travel with my\npeople, but he is with me, and will be to me a companion and master.\nDraw aside thy veil, my delight, let me see thee before my journey. Why\nart thou thus hidden?\"\n\nShe raised the veil, and showed him her bright face and her wonderfully\nsmiling eyes, inquiring,--\n\n\"Is the veil bad?\"\n\nAnd her smile had in it a little of maiden opposition; but Vinicius,\nwhile looking at her with delight, answered,--\n\n\"Bad for my eyes, which till death would look on thee only.\"\n\nThen he turned to Ursus and said,--\n\n\"Ursus, guard her as the sight in thy eye, for she is my domina as well\nas thine.\"\n\nSeizing her hand then, he pressed it with his lips, to the great\nastonishment of the crowd, who could not understand signs of such honor\nfrom a brilliant Augustian to a maiden arrayed in simple garments,\nalmost those of a slave.\n\n\"Farewell!\"\n\nThen he departed quickly, for Cæsar's whole retinue had pushed forward\nconsiderably. The Apostle Peter blessed him with a slight sign of the\ncross; but the kindly Ursus began at once to glorify him, glad that\nhis young mistress listened eagerly and was grateful to him for those\npraises.\n\nThe retinue moved on and hid itself in clouds of golden dust; they gazed\nlong after it, however, till Demas the miller approached, he for whom\nUrsus worked in the night-time. When he had kissed the Apostle's hand,\nhe entreated them to enter his dwelling for refreshment, saying that it\nwas near the Emporium, that they must be hungry and wearied since they\nhad spent the greater part of the day at the gate.\n\nThey went with him, and, after rest and refreshment in his house,\nreturned to the Trans-Tiber only toward evening. Intending to cross the\nriver by the Æmilian bridge, they passed through the Clivus Publicus,\ngoing over the Aventine, between the temples of Diana and Mercury. From\nthat height the Apostle looked on the edifices about him, and on those\nvanishing in the distance. Sunk in silence he meditated on the immensity\nand dominion of that city, to which he had come to announce the word of\nGod. Hitherto he had seen the rule of Rome and its legions in various\nlands through which he had wandered, but they were single members as\nit were of the power, which that day for the first time he had seen\nimpersonated in the form of Nero. That city, immense, predatory,\nravenous, unrestrained, rotten to the marrow of its bones, and\nunassailable in its preterhuman power; that Cæsar, a fratricide, a\nmatricide, a wife-slayer, after him dragged a retinue of bloody spectres\nno less in number than his court. That profligate, that buffoon, but\nalso lord of thirty legions, and through them of the whole earth; those\ncourtiers covered with gold and scarlet, uncertain of the morrow, but\nmightier meanwhile than kings,--all this together seemed a species of\nhellish kingdom of wrong and evil. In his simple heart he marvelled that\nGod could give such inconceivable almightiness to Satan, that He could\nyield the earth to him to knead, overturn, and trample it, to squeeze\nblood and tears from it, to twist it like a whirlwind, to storm it like\na tempest, to consume it like a flame. And his Apostle-heart was alarmed\nby those thoughts, and in spirit he spoke to the Master: \"O Lord, how\nshall I begin in this city, to which Thou hast sent me? To it belong\nseas and lands, the beasts of the field, and the creatures of the water;\nit owns other kingdoms and cities, and thirty legions which guard them;\nbut I, O Lord, am a fisherman from a lake! How shall I begin, and how\nshall I conquer its malice?\"\n\nThus speaking he raised his gray, trembling head toward heaven, praying\nand exclaiming from the depth of his heart to his Divine Master, himself\nfull of sadness and fear.\n\nMeanwhile his prayer was interrupted by Lygia.\n\n\"The whole city is as if on fire,\" said she.\n\nIn fact the sun went down that day in a marvellous manner. Its immense\nshield had sunk half-way behind the Janiculum, the whole expanse of\nheaven was filled with a red gleam. From the place on which they were\nstanding, Peter's glance embraced large expanses. Somewhat to the right\nthey saw the long extending walls of the Circus Maximus; above it the\ntowering palaces of the Palatine; and directly in front of them, beyond\nthe Forum Boarium and the Velabrum, the summit of the Capitol, with the\ntemple of Jupiter. But the walls and the columns and the summits of the\ntemples were as if sunk in that golden and purple gleam. The parts of\nthe river visible from afar flowed as if in blood; and as the sun sank\nmoment after moment behind the mountain, the gleam became redder\nand redder, more and more like a conflagration, and it increased\nand extended till finally it embraced the seven hills, from which it\nextended to the whole region about.\n\n\"The whole city seems on fire!\" repeated Lygia.\n\nPeter shaded his eyes with his hand, and said--\n\n\"The wrath of God is upon it.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVII\n\nVINCIUS to LYGIA:\n\n\n\"The slave Phlegon, by whom I send this letter, is a Christian; hence he\nwill be one of those to receive freedom from thy hands, my dearest.\nHe is an old servant of our house; so I can write to thee with full\nconfidence, and without fear that the letter will fall into other hands\nthan thine. I write from Laurentum, where we have halted because of\nheat. Otho owned here a lordly villa, which on a time he presented\nto Poppæa; and she, though divorced from him, saw fit to retain the\nmagnificent present. When I think of the women who surround me now and\nof thee, it seems to me that from the stones hurled by Deucalion there\nmust have risen people of various kinds, altogether unlike one another,\nand that thou art of those born of crystal.\n\n\"I admire and love thee from my whole soul, and wish to speak only of\nthee; hence I am forced to constrain myself to write of our journey, of\nthat which happens to me, and of news of the court. Well, Cæsar was the\nguest of Poppæa, who prepared for him secretly a magnificent reception.\nShe invited only a few of his favorites, but Petronius and I were among\nthem. After dinner we sailed in golden boats over the sea, which was as\ncalm as if it had been sleeping, and as blue as thy eyes, O divine one.\nWe ourselves rowed, for evidently it flattered the Augusta that men of\nconsular dignity, or their sons, were rowing for her. Cæsar, sitting at\nthe rudder in a purple toga, sang a hymn in honor of the sea; this hymn\nhe had composed the night before, and with Diodorus had arranged music\nto it. In other boats he was accompanied by slaves from India who knew\nhow to play on sea-shells while round about appeared numerous dolphins,\nas if really enticed from Amphitrite's depths by music. Dost thou know\nwhat I was doing? I was thinking of thee, and yearning. I wanted to\ngather in that sea, that calm, and that music, and give the whole to\nthee.\n\n\"Dost thou wish that we should live in some place at the seashore far\nfrom Rome, my Augusta? I have land in Sicily, on which there is an\nalmond forest which has rose-colored blossoms in spring, and this forest\ngoes down so near the sea that the tips of the branches almost touch the\nwater. There I will love thee and magnify Paul's teaching, for I\nknow now that it will not be opposed to love and happiness. Dost\nthou wish?--But before I hear thy answer I will write further of what\nhappened on the boat.\n\n\"Soon the shore was far behind. We saw a sail before us in the\ndistance, and all at once a dispute rose as to whether it was a common\nfishing-boat or a great ship from Ostia. I was the first to discover\nwhat it was, and then the Augusta said that for my eyes evidently\nnothing was hidden, and, dropping the veil over her face on a sudden,\nshe inquired if I could recognize her thus. Petronius answered\nimmediately that it was not possible to see even the sun behind a cloud;\nbut she said, as if in jest, that love alone could blind such a piercing\nglance as mine, and, naming various women of the court, she fell to\ninquiring and guessing which one I loved. I answered calmly, but at last\nshe mentioned thy name. Speaking of thee, she uncovered her face again,\nand looked at me with evil and inquiring eyes.\n\n\"I feel real gratitude to Petronius, who turned the boat at that moment,\nthrough which general attention was taken from me; for had I heard\nhostile or sneering words touching thee, I should not have been able to\nhide my anger, and should have had to struggle with the wish to break\nthe head of that wicked, malicious woman with my oar. Thou rememberest\nthe incident at the pond of Agrippa about which I told thee at the house\nof Linus on the eve of my departure. Petronius is alarmed on my account,\nand to-day again he implored me not to offend the Augusta's vanity. But\nPetronius does not understand me, and does not realize that, apart from\nthee, I know no pleasure or beauty or love, and that for Poppæa I\nfeel only disgust and contempt. Thou hast changed my soul greatly,--so\ngreatly that I should not wish now to return to my former life. But have\nno fear that harm may reach me here. Poppæa does not love me, for she\ncannot love any one, and her desires arise only from anger at Cæsar, who\nis under her influence yet, and who is even capable of loving her\nyet; still, he does not spare her, and does not hide from her his\ntransgressions and shamelessness.\n\n\"I will tell thee, besides, something which should pacify thee. Peter\ntold me in parting not to fear Cæsar, since a hair would not fall from\nmy head; and I believe him. Some voice in my soul says that every word\nof his must be accomplished; that since he blessed our love, neither\nCæsar, nor all the powers of Hades, nor predestination itself, could\ntake thee from me, O Lygia. When I think of this I am as happy as if I\nwere in heaven, which alone is calm and happy. But what I say of heaven\nand predestination may offend thee, a Christian. Christ has not washed\nme yet, but my heart is like an empty chalice, which Paul of Tarsus is\nto fill with the sweet doctrine professed by thee,--the sweeter for me\nthat it is thine. Thou, divine one, count even this as a merit to me\nthat I have emptied it of the liquid with which I had filled it before,\nand that I do not withdraw it, but hold it forth as a thirsty man\nstanding at a pure spring. Let me find favor in thy eyes.\n\n\"In Antium my days and nights will pass in listening to Paul, who\nacquired such influence among my people on the first day that they\nsurround him continually, seeing in him not only a wonder-worker, but\na being almost supernatural. Yesterday I saw gladness on his face, and\nwhen I asked what he was doing, he answered, 'I am sowing!' Petronius\nknows that he is among my people, and wishes to see him, as does Seneca\nalso, who heard of him from Gallo.\n\n\"But the stars are growing pale, O Lygia, and 'Lucifer' of the morning\nis bright with growing force. Soon the dawn will make the sea ruddy; all\nis sleeping round about, but I am thinking of thee and loving thee. Be\ngreeted together with the morning dawn, sponsa mea!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVIII\n\nVINICIUS to LYGIA:\n\n\n\"Hast thou ever been in Antium, my dear one, with Aulus and Pomponia? If\nnot, I shall be happy when I show this place to thee. All the way from\nLaurentum there is a line of villas along the seashore; and Antium\nitself is an endless succession of palaces and porticos, whose columns\nin fair weather see themselves in the water. I, too, have a residence\nhere right over the sea, with an olive garden and a forest of cypresses\nbehind the villa, and when I think that the place will sometime be\nthine, its marble seems whiter to me, its groves more shady, and the\nsea bluer. Oh, Lygia, how good it is to live and love! Old Menikles, who\nmanages the villa, planted irises on the ground under myrtles, and at\nsight of them the house of Aulus, the impluvium, and the garden in which\nI sat near thee, came to my mind. The irises will remind thee, too, of\nthy childhood's home; therefore I am certain that thou wilt love Antium\nand this villa.\n\n\"Immediately after our arrival I talked long with Paul at dinner. We\nspoke of thee, and afterward he taught. I listened long, and I say only\nthis, that even could I write like Petronius, I should not have power to\nexplain everything which passed through my soul and my mind. I had not\nsupposed that there could be such happiness in this world, such beauty\nand peace of which hitherto people had no knowledge. But I retain all\nthis for conversation with thee, for at the first free moment I shall be\nin Rome.\n\n\"How could the earth find place at once for the Apostle Peter, Paul\nof Tarsus, and Cæsar? Tell me this. I ask because I passed the evening\nafter Paul's teaching with Nero, and dost thou know what I heard there?\nWell, to begin with, he read his poem on the destruction of Troy, and\ncomplained that never had he seen a burning city. He envied Priam, and\ncalled him happy just for this, that he saw the conflagration and ruin\nof his birthplace. Whereupon Tigellinus said, 'Speak a word, O divinity,\nI will take a torch, and before the night passes thou shalt see blazing\nAntium.' But Cæsar called him a fool. 'Where,' asked he, 'should I go\nto breathe the sea air, and preserve the voice with which the gods\nhave gifted me, and which men say I should preserve for the benefit of\nmankind? Is it not Rome that injures me; is it not the exhalations of\nthe Subura and the Esquiline which add to my hoarseness? Would not\nthe palaces of Rome present a spectacle a hundredfold more tragic and\nmagnificent than Antium?' Here all began to talk, and to say what an\nunheard tragedy the picture of a city like that would be, a city which\nhad conquered the world turned now into a heap of gray ashes. Cæsar\ndeclared that then his poem would surpass the songs of Homer, and he\nbegan to describe how he would rebuild the city, and how coming ages\nwould admire his achievements, in presence of which all other human\nworks would be petty. 'Do that! do that!' exclaimed the drunken company.\n'I must have more faithful and more devoted friends,' answered he.\n\n\"I confess that I was alarmed at once when I heard this, for thou art in\nRome, carissima. I laugh now at that alarm, and I think that Cæsar and\nhis friends, though mad, would not dare to permit such insanity. Still,\nsee how a man fears for his love; I should prefer that the house of\nLinus were not in that narrow Trans-Tiber alley, and in a part occupied\nby common people, who are less considered in such a case. For me, the\nvery palaces on the Palatine would not be a residence fit for thee;\nhence I should wish also that nothing were lacking thee of those\nornaments and comforts to which thou art accustomed from childhood.\n\n\"Go to the house of Aulus, my Lygia. I have thought much here over\nthis matter. If Cæsar were in Rome, news of thy return might reach the\nPalatine through slaves, turn attention to thee, and bring persecution,\nbecause thou didst dare to act against the will of Cæsar. But he will\nremain long in Antium, and before he returns slaves will have ceased to\nspeak of thee. Linus and Ursus can be with thee. Besides, I live in hope\nthat before Palatine sees Cæsar, thou, my goddess, shalt be dwelling\nin thy own house on the Carinæ. Blessed be the day, hour, and moment in\nwhich thou shalt cross my threshold; and if Christ, whom I am learning\nto accept, effects this, may His name be blessed also. I shall serve\nHim, and give life and blood for Him. I speak incorrectly; we shall\nserve Him, both of us, as long as the threads of life hold.\n\n\"I love thee and salute thee with my whole soul.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIX\n\n\nUnsus was taking water from a cistern, and while drawing up a double\namphora, with a rope, was singing a strange Lygian song in an undertone,\nlooking meanwhile with delighted eyes at Lygia and Vinicius, who, among\nthe cypresses in Linus's garden, seemed as white as two statues. Their\nclothing was not moved by the least breeze. A golden and lily-colored\ntwilight was sinking on the world while they were conversing in the calm\nof evening, each holding the other by the hand.\n\n\"May not some evil meet thee, Marcus, because thou hast left Antium\nwithout Cæsar's knowledge?\" asked Lygia.\n\n\"No, my dear,\" answered Vinicius. \"Cæsar announced that he would shut\nhimself in for two days with Terpnos, and compose new songs. He acts\nthus frequently, and at such times neither knows nor remembers aught\nelse. Moreover, what is Cæsar to me since I am near thee and am looking\nat thee? I have yearned too much already, and these last nights sleep\nhas left me. More than once, when I dozed from weariness, I woke on a\nsudden, with a feeling that danger was hanging over thee; at times I\ndreamed that the relays of horses which were to bear me from Antium to\nRome were stolen,--horses with which I passed that road more swiftly\nthan any of Cæsar's couriers. Besides, I could not live longer without\nthee; I love thee too much for that, my dearest.\"\n\n\"I knew that thou wert coming. Twice Ursus ran out, at my request, to\nthe Carinæ, and inquired for thee at thy house. Linus laughed at me, and\nUrsus also.\"\n\nIt was, indeed, evident that she had expected him; for instead of her\nusual dark dress, she wore a soft white stola, out of whose beautiful\nfolds her arms and head emerged like primroses out of snow. A few ruddy\nanemones ornamented her hair.\n\nVinicius pressed his lips to her hands; then they sat on the stone bench\namidst wild grapevines, and inclining toward each other, were silent,\nlooking at the twilight whose last gleams were reflected in their eyes.\n\nThe charm of the quiet evening mastered them completely.\n\n\"How calm it is here, and how beautiful the world is,\" said Vinicius,\nin a lowered voice. \"The night is wonderfully still. I feel happier than\never in life before. Tell me, Lygia, what is this? Never have I thought\nthat there could be such love. I thought that love was merely fire\nin the blood and desire; but now for the first time I see that it is\npossible to love with every drop of one's blood and every breath, and\nfeel therewith such sweet and immeasurable calm as if Sleep and Death\nhad put the soul to rest. For me this is something new. I look on this\ncalmness of the trees, and it seems to be within me. Now I understand\nfor the first time that there may be happiness of which people have not\nknown thus far. Now I begin to understand why thou and Pomponia Græcina\nhave such peace. Yes! Christ gives it.\"\n\nAt that moment Lygia placed her beautiful face on his shoulder\nand said,--\"My dear Marcus--\" But she was unable to continue. Joy,\ngratitude, and the feeling that at last she was free to love deprived\nher of voice, and her eyes were filled with tears of emotion.\n\nVinicius, embracing her slender form with his arm, drew her toward him\nand said,--\"Lygia! May the moment be blessed in which I heard His name\nfor the first time.\"\n\n\"I love thee, Marcus,\" said she then in a low voice.\n\nBoth were silent again, unable to bring words from their overcharged\nbreasts. The last lily reflections had died on the cypresses, and the\ngarden began to be silver-like from the crescent of the moon. After a\nwhile Vinicius said,\n\n\"I know. Barely had I entered here, barely had I kissed thy dear hands,\nwhen I read in thy eyes the question whether I had received the divine\ndoctrine to which thou art attached, and whether I was baptized. No, I\nam not baptized yet; but knowest thou, my flower, why? Paul said to me:\n'I have convinced thee that God came into the world and gave Himself to\nbe crucified for its salvation; but let Peter wash thee in the fountain\nof grace, he who first stretched his hands over thee and blessed thee.'\nAnd I, my dearest, wish thee to witness my baptism, and I wish Pomponia\nto be my godmother. This is why I am not baptized yet, though I believe\nin the Saviour and in his teaching. Paul has convinced me, has converted\nme; and could it be otherwise? How was I not to believe that Christ came\ninto the world, since he, who was His disciple, says so, and Paul, to\nwhom He appeared? How was I not to believe that He was God, since He\nrose from the dead? Others saw Him in the city and on the lake and on\nthe mountain; people saw Him whose lips have not known a lie. I began\nto believe this the first time I heard Peter in Ostrianum, for I said to\nmyself even then: In the whole world any other man might lie rather than\nthis one who says, 'I saw.' But I feared thy religion. It seemed to\nme that thy religion would take thee from me. I thought that there was\nneither wisdom nor beauty nor happiness in it. But to-day, when I know\nit, what kind of man should I be were I not to wish truth to rule the\nworld instead of falsehood, love instead of hatred, virtue instead\nof crime, faithfulness instead of unfaithfulness, mercy instead of\nvengeance? What sort of man would he be who would not choose and wish\nthe same? But your religion teaches this. Others desire justice also;\nbut thy religion is the only one which makes man's heart just, and\nbesides makes it pure, like thine and Pomponia's, makes it faithful,\nlike thine and Pomponia's. I should be blind were I not to see this. But\nif in addition Christ God has promised eternal life, and has promised\nhappiness as immeasurable as the all-might of God can give, what more\ncan one wish? Were I to ask Seneca why he enjoins virtue, if wickedness\nbrings more happiness, he would not be able to say anything sensible.\nBut I know now that I ought to be virtuous, because virtue and love flow\nfrom Christ, and because, when death closes my eyes, I shall find life\nand happiness, I shall find myself and thee. Why not love and accept a\nreligion which both speaks the truth and destroys death? Who would\nnot prefer good to evil? I thought thy religion opposed to happiness;\nmeanwhile Paul has convinced me that not only does it not take away, but\nthat it gives. All this hardly finds a place in my head; but I feel that\nit is true, for I have never been so happy, neither could I be, had I\ntaken thee by force and possessed thee in my house. Just see, thou hast\nsaid a moment since, 'I love thee,' and I could not have won these words\nfrom thy lips with all the might of Rome. O Lygia! Reason declares this\nreligion divine, and the best; the heart feels it, and who can resist\ntwo such forces?\"\n\nLygia listened, fixing on him her blue eyes, which in the light of the\nmoon were like mystic flowers, and bedewed like flowers.\n\n\"Yes, Marcus, that is true!\" said she, nestling her head more closely to\nhis shoulder.\n\nAnd at that moment they felt immensely happy, for they understood\nthat besides love they were united by another power, at once sweet\nand irresistible, by which love itself becomes endless, not subject to\nchange, deceit, treason, or even death. Their hearts were filled with\nperfect certainty that, no matter what might happen, they would not\ncease to love and belong to each other. For that reason an unspeakable\nrepose flowed in on their souls. Vinicius felt, besides, that that love\nwas not merely profound and pure, but altogether new,--such as the world\nhad not known and could not give. In his head all was combined in this\nlove,--Lygia, the teaching of Christ, the light of the moon resting\ncalmly on the cypresses, and the still night,--so that to him the whole\nuniverse seemed filled with it.\n\nAfter a while he said with a lowered and quivering voice: \"Thou wilt be\nthe soul of my soul, and the dearest in the world to me. Our hearts will\nbeat together, we shall have one prayer and one gratitude to Christ. O\nmy dear! To live together, to honor together the sweet God, and to know\nthat when death comes our eyes will open again, as after a pleasant\nsleep, to a new light,--what better could be imagined? I only marvel\nthat I did not understand this at first. And knowest thou what occurs\nto me now? That no one can resist this religion. In two hundred or\nthree hundred years the whole world will accept it. People will forget\nJupiter, and there will be no God except Christ, and no other temples\nbut Christian. Who would not wish his own happiness? Ah! but I heard\nPaul's conversation with Petronius and dost thou know what Petronius\nsaid at the end? 'That is not for me'; but he could give no other\nanswer.\"\n\n\"Repeat Paul's words to me,\" said Lygia.\n\n\"It was at my house one evening. Petronius began to speak playfully and\nto banter, as he does usually, whereupon Paul said to him: 'How canst\nthou deny, O wise Petronius, that Christ existed and rose from the dead,\nsince thou wert not in the world at that time, but Peter and John saw\nHim, and I saw Him on the road to Damascus? Let thy wisdom show, first\nof all, then, that we are liars, and then only deny our testimony.'\nPetronius answered that he had no thought of denying, for he knew\nthat many incomprehensible things were done, which trustworthy people\naffirmed. 'But the discovery of some new foreign god is one thing,' said\nhe, 'and the reception of his teaching another. I have no wish to know\nanything which may deform life and mar its beauty. Never mind whether\nour gods are true or not; they are beautiful, their rule is pleasant for\nus, and we live without care.' 'Thou art willing to reject the religion\nof love, justice, and mercy through dread of the cares of life,' replied\nPaul; 'but think, Petronius, is thy life really free from anxieties?\nBehold, neither thou nor any man among the richest and most powerful\nknows when he falls asleep at night that he may not wake to a death\nsentence. But tell me, if Cæsar professed this religion, which enjoins\nlove and justice, would not thy happiness be more assured? Thou art\nalarmed about thy delight, but would not life be more joyous then? As to\nlife's beauty and ornaments, if ye have reared so many beautiful temples\nand statues to evil, revengeful, adulterous, and faithless divinities,\nwhat would ye not do in honor of one God of truth and mercy? Thou art\nready to praise thy lot, because thou art wealthy and living in luxury;\nbut it was possible even in thy case to be poor and deserted, though\ncoming of a great house, and then in truth it would have been better for\nthee if people confessed Christ. In Rome even wealthy parents, unwilling\nto toil at rearing children, cast them out of the house frequently;\nthose children are called alumni. And chance might have made thee\nan alumnus, like one of those. But if parents live according to our\nreligion, this cannot happen. And hadst thou, at manhood's years,\nmarried a woman of thy love, thy wish would be to see her faithful till\ndeath. Meanwhile look around, what happens among you, what vileness,\nwhat shame, what bartering in the faith of wives! Nay, ye yourselves are\nastonished when a woman appears whom ye call \"univira\" (of one husband).\nBut I tell thee that those women who carry Christ in their hearts will\nnot break faith with their husbands, just as Christian husbands will\nkeep faith with their wives. But ye are neither sure of rulers nor\nfathers nor wives nor children nor servants. The whole world is\ntrembling before you, and ye are trembling before your own slaves, for\nye know that any hour may raise an awful war against your oppression,\nsuch a war as has been raised more than once. Though rich, thou art\nnot sure that the command may not come to thee to-morrow to leave thy\nwealth; thou art young, but to-morrow it may be necessary for thee to\ndie. Thou lovest, but treason is in wait for thee; thou art enamoured of\nvillas and statues, but to-morrow power may thrust thee forth into the\nempty places of the Pandataria; thou hast thousands of servants, but\nto-morrow these servants may let thy blood flow. And if that be the\ncase, how canst thou be calm and happy, how canst thou live in delight?\nBut I proclaim love, and I proclaim a religion which commands rulers to\nlove their subjects, masters their slaves, slaves to serve with love, to\ndo justice and be merciful; and at last it promises happiness boundless\nas a sea without end. How, then, Petronius, canst thou say that that\nreligion spoils life, since it corrects, and since thou thyself wouldst\nbe a hundred times happier and more secure were it to embrace the world\nas Rome's dominion has embraced it?'\n\n\"Thus discussed Paul, and then Petronius said, 'That is not for me.'\nFeigning drowsiness, he went out, and when going added: 'I prefer my\nEunice, O little Jew, but I should not wish to struggle with thee on the\nplatform.' I listened to Paul's words with my whole soul, and when he\nspoke of our women, I magnified with all my heart that religion from\nwhich thou hast sprung as a lily from a rich field in springtime. And\nI thought then: There is Poppæa, who cast aside two husbands for Nero,\nthere is Calvia Crispinilla, there is Nigidia, there are almost all whom\nI know, save only Pomponia; they trafficked with faith and with oaths,\nbut she and my own one will not desert, will not deceive, and will not\nquench the fire, even though all in whom I place trust should desert and\ndeceive me. Hence I said to thee in my soul, How can I show gratitude to\nthee, if not with love and honor? Didst thou feel that in Antium I spoke\nand conversed with thee all the time as if thou hadst been at my side? I\nlove thee a hundred times more for having escaped me from Cæsar's house.\nNeither do I care for Cæsar's house any longer; I wish not its luxury\nand music, I wish only thee. Say a word, we will leave Rome to settle\nsomewhere at a distance.\"\n\nWithout removing her head from his shoulder, Lygia, as if\nmeditating, raised her eyes to the silver tops of the cypresses, and\nanswered,--\"Very well, Marcus. Thou hast written to me of Sicily, where\nAulus wishes to settle in old age.\" And Vinieius interrupted her with\ndelight.\n\n\"True, my dear! Our lands are adjacent. That is a wonderful coast,\nwhere the climate is sweeter and the nights still brighter than in Rome,\nodoriferous and transparent. There life and happiness are almost one and\nthe same.\"\n\nAnd he began then to dream of the future.\n\n\"There we may forget anxieties. In groves, among olive-trees, we shall\nwalk and rest in the shade. O Lygia! what a life to love and cherish\neach other, to look at the sea together, to look at the sky together, to\nhonor together a kind God, to do in peace what is just and true.\"\n\nBoth were silent, looking into the future; only he drew her more firmly\ntoward him, and the knight's ring on his finger glittered meanwhile in\nthe rays of the moon. In the part occupied by the poor toiling people,\nall were sleeping; no murmur broke the silence.\n\n\"Wilt thou permit me to see Pomponia?\" asked Lygia.\n\n\"Yes, dear one. We will invite them to our house, or go to them\nourselves. If thou wish, we can take Peter the Apostle. He is bowed\ndown with age and work. Paul will visit us also,--he will convert Aulus\nPlautius; and as soldiers found colonies in distant lands, so we will\nfound a colony of Christians.\"\n\nLygia raised her hand and, taking his palm, wished to press it to her\nlips; but he whispered, as if fearing to frighten happiness,--\"No,\nLygia, no! It is I who honor thee and exalt thee; give me thy hands.\"\n\n\"I love thee.\"\n\nHe had pressed his lips to her hands, white as jessamine, and for a\ntime they heard only the beating of their own hearts. There was not the\nslightest movement in the air; the cypresses stood as motionless as if\nthey too were holding breath in their breasts.\n\nAll at once the silence was broken by an unexpected thunder, deep, and\nas if coming from under the earth. A shiver ran through Lygia's body.\nVinicius stood up, and said,--\"Lions are roaring in the vivarium.\"\n\nBoth began to listen. Now the first thunder was answered by a second,\na third, a tenth, from all sides and divisions of the city. In Rome\nseveral thousand lions were quartered at times in various arenas, and\nfrequently in the night-time they approached the grating, and, leaning\ntheir gigantic heads against it, gave utterance to their yearning for\nfreedom and the desert. Thus they began on this occasion, and, answering\none another in the stillness of night, they filled the whole city with\nroaring. There was something so indescribably gloomy and terrible in\nthose roars that Lygia, whose bright and calm visions of the future were\nscattered, listened with a straitened heart and with wonderful fear and\nsadness.\n\nBut Vinicius encircled her with his arm, and said,--\"Fear not, dear one.\nThe games are at hand, and all the vivaria are crowded.\"\n\nThen both entered the house of Linus, accompanied by the thunder of\nlions, growing louder and louder.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XL\n\n\nIN Antium, meanwhile, Petronius gained new victories almost daily\nover courtiers vying with him for the favor of Cæsar. The influence of\nTigellinus had fallen completely. In Rome, when there was occasion to\nset aside men who seemed dangerous, to plunder their property or to\nsettle political cases, to give spectacles astounding by their luxury\nand bad taste, or finally to satisfy the monstrous whims of\nCæsar, Tigellinus, as adroit, as he was ready for anything, became\nindispensable. But in Antium, among palaces reflected in the azure of\nthe sea, Cæsar led a Hellenic existence. From morning till evening\nNero and his attendants read verses, discoursed on their structure and\nfinish, were delighted with happy turns of expression, were occupied\nwith music, the theatre,--in a word, exclusively with that which Grecian\ngenius had invented, and with which it had beautified life. Under these\nconditions Petronius, incomparably more refined than Tigellinus and\nthe other courtiers,--witty, eloquent, full of subtile feelings and\ntastes,--obtained pre-eminence of necessity. Cæsar sought his society,\ntook his opinion, asked for advice when he composed, and showed a\nmore lively friendship than at any other time whatever. It seemed to\ncourtiers that his influence had won a supreme triumph at last, that\nfriendship between him and Cæsar had entered on a period of certainty\nwhich would last for years. Even those who had shown dislike previously\nto the exquisite Epicurean, began now to crowd around him and vie\nfor his favor. More than one was even sincerely glad in his soul that\npreponderance had come to a man who knew really what to think of a given\nperson, who received with a sceptical smile the flattery of his enemies\nof yesterday, but who, either through indolence or culture, was not\nvengeful, and did not use his power to the detriment or destruction of\nothers. There were moments when he might have destroyed even Tigellinus,\nbut he preferred to ridicule him, and expose his vulgarity and want of\nrefinement. In Rome the Senate drew breath, for no death sentence had\nbeen issued for a month and a half. It is true that in Antium and the\ncity people told wonders of the refinement which the profligacy of Cæsar\nand his favorite had reached, but every one preferred a refined Cæsar to\none brutalized in the hands of Tigellinus. Tigellinus himself lost his\nhead, and hesitated whether or not to yield as conquered, for Cæsar had\nsaid repeatedly that in all Rome and in his court there were only two\nspirits capable of understanding each other, two real Hellenes,--he and\nPetronius.\n\nThe amazing dexterity of Petronius confirmed people in the conviction\nthat his influence would outlive every other. They did not see how Cæsar\ncould dispense with him,--with whom could he converse touching poetry,\nmusic, and comparative excellence; in whose eyes could he look to learn\nwhether his creation was indeed perfect? Petronius, with his habitual\nindifference, seemed to attach no importance to his position. As usual,\nhe was remiss, slothful, sceptical, and witty. He produced on people\nfrequently the impression of a man who made light of them, of himself,\nof Cæsar, of the whole world. At moments he ventured to criticise Cæsar\nto his face, and when others judged that he was going too far, or simply\npreparing his own ruin, he was able to turn the criticism suddenly in\nsuch a way that it came out to his profit; he roused amazement in those\npresent, and the conviction that there was no position from which he\ncould not issue in triumph.\n\nAbout a week after the return of Vinicius from Rome, Cæsar read in a\nsmall circle an extract from his Troyad; when he had finished and the\nshouts of rapture had ended, Petronius, interrogated by a glance from\nCæsar, replied,--\n\n\"Common verses, fit for the fire.\"\n\nThe hearts of those present stopped beating from terror. Since the years\nof his childhood Nero had never heard such a sentence from any man. The\nface of Tigellinus was radiant with delight. But Vinicius grew pale,\nthinking that Petronius, who thus far had never been drunk, was drunk\nthis time.\n\nNero, however, inquired in a honeyed voice, in which more or less deeply\nwounded vanity was quivering,--\n\n\"What defect dost thou find in them?\"\n\n\"Do not believe them,\" said Petronius, attacking him, and pointing to\nthose present; \"they understand nothing. Thou hast asked what defect\nthere is in thy verses. If thou desire truth, I will tell thee. Thy\nverses would be worthy of Virgil, of Ovid, even of Homer, but they are\nnot worthy of thee. Thou art not free to write such. The conflagration\ndescribed by thee does not blaze enough; thy fire is not hot enough.\nListen not to Lucan's flatteries. Had he written those verses, I should\nacknowledge him a genius, but thy case is different. And knowest thou\nwhy? Thou art greater than they. From him who is gifted of the gods as\nthou art, more is demanded. But thou art slothful,--thou wouldst rather\nsleep after dinner than sit to wrinkles. Thou canst create a work such\nas the world has not heard of to this day; hence I tell thee to thy\neyes, write better!\"\n\nAnd he said this carelessly, as if bantering and also chiding; but\nCæsar's eyes were mist-covered from delight.\n\n\"The gods have given me a little talent,\" said he, \"but they have given\nme something greater, a true judge and friend, the only man able to\nspeak the truth to my eyes.\"\n\nThen he stretched his fat hand, grown over with reddish hair, to a\ngolden candelabrum plundered from Delphi, to burn the verses. But\nPetronius seized them before the flame touched the paper.\n\n\"No, no!\" said he; \"even thus they belong to mankind. Leave them to me.\"\n\n\"In such case let me send them to thee in a cylinder of my own\ninvention,\" answered Nero, embracing Petronius.\n\n\"True; thou art right,\" said he, after a while. \"My conflagration of\nTroy does not blaze enough; my fire is not hot enough. But I thought\nit sufficient to equal Homer. A certain timidity and low estimate of my\npower have fettered me always. Thou hast opened my eyes. But knowest\nwhy it is, as thou sayest? When a sculptor makes the statue of a god, he\nseeks a model; but never have I had a model. I never have seen a burning\ncity; hence there is a lack of truth in my description.\"\n\n\"Then I will say that only a great artist understands this.\"\n\nNero grew thoughtful, and after a while he said,--\"Answer one question,\nPetronius. Dost thou regret the burning of Troy?\"\n\n\"Do I regret? By the lame consort of Venus, not in the least! And I will\ntell thee the reason. Troy would not have been consumed if Prometheus\nhad not given fire to man, and the Greeks made war on Priam. Æschylus\nwould not have written his Prometheus had there been no fire, just as\nHomer would not have written the Iliad had there been no Trojan war. I\nthink it better to have Prometheus and the Iliad than a small and shabby\ncity, which was unclean, I think, and wretched, and in which at best\nthere would be now some procurator annoying thee through quarrels with\nthe local areopagus.\"\n\n\"That is what we call speaking with sound reason,\" said Nero. \"For art\nand poetry it is permitted, and it is right, to sacrifice everything.\nHappy were the Achæans who furnished Homer with the substance of the\nIliad, and happy Priam who beheld the ruin of his birthplace. As to me,\nI have never seen a burning city.\"\n\nA time of silence followed, which was broken at last by Tigellinus.\n\n\"But I have said to thee, Cæsar, already, command and I will burn\nAntium; or dost thou know what? If thou art sorry for these villas and\npalaces, give command to burn the ships in Ostia; or I will build a\nwooden city on the Alban Hills, into which thou shalt hurl the fire\nthyself. Dost thou wish?\"\n\n\"Am I to gaze on the burning of wooden sheds?\" asked Nero, casting a\nlook of contempt on him. \"Thy mind has grown utterly barren, Tigellinus.\nAnd I see, besides, that thou dost set no great value on my talent or\nmy Troyad, since thou judgest that any sacrifice would be too great for\nit.\"\n\nTigellinus was confused; but Nero, as if wishing to change the\nconversation, added after a while,--\n\n\"Summer is passing. Oh, what a stench there must be in that Rome now!\nAnd still we must return for the summer games.\"\n\n\"When thou dismissest the Augustians, O Cæsar, permit me to remain with\nthee a moment,\" said Tigellinus.\n\nAn hour later Vinicius, returning with Petronius from Cæsar's villa,\nsaid,--\"I was a trifle alarmed for thee. I judged that while drunk thou\nhadst ruined thyself beyond redemption. Remember that thou art playing\nwith death.\"\n\n\"That is my arena,\" answered Petronius, carelessly; \"and the feeling\nthat I am the best gladiator in it amuses me. See how it ended. My\ninfluence has increased this evening. He will send me his verses in a\ncylinder which--dost wish to lay a wager?--will be immensely rich and in\nimmensely bad taste. I shall command my physician to keep physic in\nit. I did this for another reason,--because Tigellinus, seeing how such\nthings succeed, will wish surely to imitate me, and I imagine what will\nhappen. The moment he starts a witticism, it will be as if a bear of the\nPyrenees were rope-walking. I shall laugh like Democritus. If I wished\nI could destroy Tigellinus perhaps, and become pretorian prefect in his\nplace, and have Ahenobarbus himself in my hands. But I am indolent; I\nprefer my present life and even Cæsar's verses to trouble.\"\n\n\"What dexterity to be able to turn even blame into flattery! But are\nthose verses really so bad? I am no judge in those matters.\"\n\n\"The verses are not worse than others. Lucan has more talent in one\nfinger, but in Bronzebeard too there is something. He has, above all, an\nimmense love for poetry and music. In two days we are to be with him to\nhear the music of his hymn to Aphrodite, which he will finish to-day\nor to-morrow. We shall be in a small circle,--only I, thou, Tullius\nSenecio, and young Nerva. But as to what I said touching Nero's verses,\nthat I use them after feasting as Vitelius does flamingo feathers, is\nnot true. At times they are eloquent. Hecuba's words are touching.\nShe complains of the pangs of birth, and Nero was able to find happy\nexpressions,--for this reason, perhaps, that he gives birth to every\nverse in torment. At times I am sorry for him. By Pollux, what a\nmarvellous mixture! The fifth stave was lacking in Caligula, but still\nhe never did such strange things.\"\n\n\"Who can foresee to what the madness of Ahenobarbus will go?\" asked\nVinicius.\n\n\"No man whatever. Such things may happen yet that the hair will stand\non men's heads for whole centuries at thought of them. But it is that\nprecisely which interests me; and though I am bored more than once, like\nJupiter Ammon in the desert, I believe that under another Cæsar I should\nbe bored a hundred times more. Paul, thy little Jew, is eloquent,--that\nI accord to him; and if people like him proclaim that religion, our gods\nmust defend themselves seriously, lest in time they be led away captive.\nIt is true that if Cæsar, for example, were a Christian, all would feel\nsafer. But thy prophet of Tarsus, in applying proofs to me, did not\nthink, seest thou, that for me this uncertainty becomes the charm of\nlife. Whoso does not play at dice will not lose property, but still\npeople play at dice. There is in that a certain delight and destruction\nof the present. I have known sons of knights and senators to become\ngladiators of their own will. I play with life, thou sayest, and that\nis true, but I play because it pleases me; while Christian virtues\nwould bore me in a day, as do the discourses of Seneca. Because of this,\nPaul's eloquence is exerted in vain. He should understand that people\nlike me will never accept his religion. With thy disposition thou\nmightst either hate the name Christian, or become a Christian\nimmediately. I recognize, while yawning, the truth of what they say. We\nare mad. We are hastening to the precipice, something unknown is coming\ntoward us out of the future, something is breaking beneath us, something\nis dying around us,--agreed! But we shall succeed in dying; meanwhile\nwe have no wish to burden life, and serve death before it takes us. Life\nexists for itself alone, not for death.\"\n\n\"But I pity thee, Petronius.\"\n\n\"Do not pity me more than I pity myself. Formerly thou wert glad among\nus; while campaigning in Armenia, thou wert longing for Rome.\"\n\n\"And now I am longing for Rome.\"\n\n\"True; for thou art in love with a Christian vestal, who sits in the\nTrans-Tiber. I neither wonder at this, nor do I blame thee. I wonder\nmore, that in spite of a religion described by thee as a sea of\nhappiness, and in spite of a love which is soon to be crowned, sadness\nhas not left thy face. Pomponia Græcina is eternally pensive; from the\ntime of thy becoming a Christian thou hast ceased to laugh. Do not try\nto persuade me that this religion is cheerful. Thou hast returned from\nRome sadder than ever. If Christians love in this way, by the bright\ncurls of Bacchus! I shall not imitate them!\"\n\n\"That is another thing,\" answered Vinicius. \"I swear to thee, not by the\ncurls of Bachus, but by the soul of my father, that never in times\npast have I experienced even a foretaste of such happiness as I breathe\nto-day. But I yearn greatly; and what is stranger, when I am far from\nLygia, I think that danger is threatening her. I know not what danger,\nnor whence it may come; but I feel it, as one feels a coming tempest.\"\n\n\"In two days I will try to obtain for thee permission to leave Antium,\nfor as long a time as may please thee. Poppæa is somewhat more quiet;\nand, as far as I know, no danger from her threatens thee or Lygia.\"\n\n\"This very day she asked me what I was doing in Rome, though my\ndeparture was secret.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she gave command to set spies on thee. Now, however, even she\nmust count with me.\"\n\n\"Paul told me,\" said Vinicius, \"that God forewarns sometimes, but does\nnot permit us to believe in omens; hence I guard myself against this\nbelief, but I cannot ward it off. I will tell thee what happened, so as\nto cast the weight from my heart. Lygia and I were sitting side by side\non a night as calm as this, and planning our future. I cannot tell thee\nhow happy and calm we were. All at once lions began to roar. That is\ncommon in Rome, but since then I have no rest. It seems to me that\nin that roaring there was a threat, an announcement as it were of\nmisfortune. Thou knowest that I am not frightened easily; that night,\nhowever, something happened which filled all the darkness with terror.\nIt came so strangely and unexpectedly that I have those sounds in my\nears yet, and unbroken fear in my heart, as if Lygia were asking my\nprotection from something dreadful,--even from those same lions. I am in\ntorture. Obtain for me permission to leave Antium, or I shall go without\nit. I cannot remain. I repeat to thee, I cannot!\"\n\n\"Sons of consuls or their wives are not given to lions yet in the\narenas,\" said Petronius, laughing. \"Any other death may meet thee but\nthat. Who knows, besides, that they were lions? German bisons roar with\nno less gentleness than lions. As to me, I ridicule omens and fates.\nLast night was warm and I saw stars falling like rain. Many a man has\nan evil foreboding at such a sight; but I thought, 'If among these is my\nstar too, I shall not lack society at least!'\" Then he was silent, but\nadded after a moment's thought,--\"If your Christ has risen from the\ndead, He may perhaps protect you both from death.\"\n\n\"He may,\" answered Vinicius, looking at the heavens filled with stars.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLI\n\n\nNERO played and sang, in honor of the \"Lady of Cyprus,\" a hymn the\nverses and music of which were composed by himself. That day he was in\nvoice, and felt that his music really captivated those present. That\nfeeling added such power to the sounds produced and roused his own\nsoul so much that he seemed inspired. At last he grew pale from genuine\nemotion. This was surely the first time that he had no desire to hear\npraises from others. He sat for a time with his hands on the cithara and\nwith bowed head; then, rising suddenly, he said,--\n\n\"I am tired and need air, Meanwhile ye will tune the citharæ.\"\n\nHe covered his throat then with a silk kerchief.\n\n\"Ye will go with me,\" said he, turning to Petronius and Vinicius, who\nwere sitting in a corner of the hall. \"Give me thy arm, Vinicius, for\nstrength fails me; Petronius will talk to me of music.\"\n\nThey went out on the terrace, which was paved with alabaster and\nsprinkled with saffron.\n\n\"Here one can breathe more freely,\" said Nero. \"My soul is moved and\nsad, though I see that with what I have sung to thee on trial just now\nI may appear in public, and my triumph will be such as no Roman has ever\nachieved.\"\n\n\"Thou mayst appear here, in Rome, in Achæa. I admire thee with my whole\nheart and mind, divinity,\" answered Petronius.\n\n\"I know. Thou art too slothful to force thyself to flattery, and thou\nart as sincere as Tullius Senecio, but thou hast more knowledge than he.\nTell me, what is thy judgment on music?\"\n\n\"When I listen to poetry, when I look at a quadriga directed by thee\nin the Circus, when I look at a beautiful statue, temple, or picture, I\nfeel that I comprehend perfectly what I see, that my enthusiasm takes\nin all that these can give. But when I listen to music, especially thy\nmusic, new delights and beauties open before me every instant. I pursue\nthem, I try to seize them; but before I can take them to myself, new\nand newer ones flow in, just like waves of the sea, which roll on from\ninfinity. Hence I tell thee that music is like the sea. We stand on one\nshore and gaze at remoteness, but we cannot see the other shore.\"\n\n\"Ah, what deep knowledge thou hast!\" said Nero; and they walked on for\na moment, only the slight sound of the saffron leaves under their feet\nbeing heard.\n\n\"Thou hast expressed my idea,\" said Nero at last; \"hence I say now, as\never, in all Rome thou art the only man able to understand me. Thus it\nis, my judgment of music is the same as thine. When I play and sing, I\nsee things which I did not know as existing in my dominions or in the\nworld. I am Cæsar, and the world is mine. I can do everything. But music\nopens new kingdoms to me, new mountains, new seas, new delights unknown\nbefore. Most frequently I cannot name them or grasp them; I only feel\nthem. I feel the gods, I see Olympus. Some kind of breeze from beyond\nthe earth blows in on me; I behold, as in a mist, certain immeasurable\ngreatnesses, but calm and bright as sunshine. The whole Spheros plays\naround me; and I declare to thee\" (here Nero's voice quivered with\ngenuine wonder) \"that I, Cæsar and god, feel at such times as diminutive\nas dust. Wilt thou believe this?\"\n\n\"I will. Only great artists have power to feel small in the presence of\nart.\"\n\n\"This is a night of sincerity; hence I open my soul to thee as to a\nfriend, and I will say more: dost thou consider that I am blind or\ndeprived of reason? Dost thou think that I am ignorant of this,\nthat people in Rome write insults on the walls against me, call me a\nmatricide, a wife-murderer, hold me a monster and a tyrant, because\nTigellinus obtained a few sentences of death against my enemies? Yes, my\ndear, they hold me a monster, and I know it. They have talked cruelty on\nme to that degree that at times I put the question to myself, 'Am I not\ncruel?' But they do not understand this, that a man's deeds may be cruel\nat times while he himself is not cruel. Ah, no one will believe, and\nperhaps even thou, my dear, wilt not believe, that at moments when music\ncaresses my soul I feel as kind as a child in the cradle. I swear by\nthose stars which shine above us, that I speak the pure truth to thee.\nPeople do not know how much goodness lies in this heart, and what\ntreasures I see in it when music opens the door to them.\"\n\nPetronius, who had not the least doubt that Nero was speaking sincerely\nat that moment, and that music might bring out various more noble\ninclinations of his soul, which were overwhelmed by mountains of\negotism, profligacy, and crime, said,--\"Men should know thee as nearly\nas I do; Rome has never been able to appreciate thee.\"\n\nCæsar leaned more heavily on Vinicius's arm, as if he were bending under\nthe weight of injustice, and answered,--\n\n\"Tigellinus has told me that in the Senate they whisper into one\nanother's ears that Diodorus and Terpnos play on the cithara better than\nI. They refuse me even that! But tell me, thou who art truthful always,\ndo they play better, or as well?\"\n\n\"By no means. Thy touch is finer, and has greater power. In thee the\nartist is evident, in them the expert. The man who hears their music\nfirst understands better what thou art.\"\n\n\"If that be true, let them live. They will never imagine what a service\nthou hast rendered them in this moment. For that matter, if I had\ncondemned those two, I should have had to take others in place of them.\"\n\n\"And people would say, besides, that out of love for music thou\ndestroyest music in thy dominions. Never kill art for art's sake, O\ndivinity.\"\n\n\"How different thou art from Tigellinus!\" answered Nero. \"But seest\nthou, I am an artist in everything; and since music opens for me\nspaces the existence of which I had not divined, regions which I do\nnot possess, delight and happiness which I do not know, I cannot live a\ncommon life. Music tells me that the uncommon exists, so I seek it with\nall the power of dominion which the gods have placed in my hands. At\ntimes it seems to me that to reach those Olympian worlds I must do\nsomething which no man has done hitherto,--I must surpass the stature\nof man in good or evil. I know that people declare me mad. But I am not\nmad, I am only seeking. And if I am going mad, it is out of disgust and\nimpatience that I cannot find. I am seeking! Dost understand me? And\ntherefore I wish to be greater than man, for only in that way can I be\nthe greatest as an artist.\"\n\nHere he lowered his voice so that Vinicius could not hear him, and,\nputting his mouth to the ear of Petronius, he whispered,--\"Dost know\nthat I condemned my mother and wife to death mainly because I wished\nto lay at the gate of an unknown world the greatest sacrifice that man\ncould put there? I thought that afterward something would happen, that\ndoors would be opened beyond which I should see something unknown. Let\nit be wonderful or awful, surpassing human conception, if only great and\nuncommon. But that sacrifice was not sufficient. To open the empyrean\ndoors it is evident that something greater is needed, and let it be\ngiven as the Fates desire.\"\n\n\"What dost thou intend to do?\"\n\n\"Thou shalt see sooner than thou thinkest. Meanwhile be assured that\nthere are two Neros,--one such as people know, the other an artist, whom\nthou alone knowest, and if he slays as does death, or is in frenzy\nlike Bacchus, it is only because the flatness and misery of common life\nstifle him; and I should like to destroy them, though I had to use fire\nor iron. Oh, how flat this world will be when I am gone from it! No man\nhas suspected yet, not thou even, what an artist I am. But precisely\nbecause of this I suffer, and sincerely do I tell thee that the soul in\nme is as gloomy as those cypresses which stand dark there in front of\nus. It is grievous for a man to bear at once the weight of supreme power\nand the highest talents.\"\n\n\"I sympathize with thee, O Cæsar; and with me earth and sea, not\ncounting Vinicius, who deifies thee in his soul.\"\n\n\"He, too, has always been dear to me,\" said Cæsar, \"though he serves\nMars, not the Muses.\"\n\n\"He serves Aphrodite first of all,\" answered Petronius. And suddenly he\ndetermined to settle the affair of his nephew at a blow, and at the same\ntime to eliminate every danger which might threaten him. \"He is in love,\nas was Troilus with Cressida. Permit him, lord, to visit Rome, for he\nis dying on my hands. Dost thou know that that Lygian hostage whom thou\ngavest him has been found, and Vinicius, when leaving for Antium, left\nher in care of a certain Linus? I did not mention this to thee, for thou\nwert composing thy hymn, and that was more important than all besides.\nVinicius wanted her as a mistress; but when she turned out to be as\nvirtuous as Lucretia, he fell in love with her virtue, and now his\ndesire is to marry her. She is a king's daughter, hence she will cause\nhim no detriment; but he is a real soldier: he sighs and withers and\ngroans, but he is waiting for the permission of his Imperator.\"\n\n\"The Imperator does not choose wives for his soldiers. What good is my\npermission to Vinicius?\"\n\n\"I have told thee, O lord, that he deifies thee.\"\n\n\"All the more may he be certain of permission. That is a comely maiden,\nbut too narrow in the hips. The Augusta Poppæa has complained to me that\nshe enchanted our child in the gardens of the Palatine.\"\n\n\"But I told Tigellinus that the gods are not subject to evil charms.\nThou rememberest, divinity, his confusion and thy exclamation, 'Habet!'\"\n\n\"I remember.\"\n\nHere he turned to Vinicius,--\"Dost thou love her, as Petronius says?\"\n\n\"I love her, lord,\" replied Vinicius.\n\n\"Then I command thee to set out for Rome to-morrow, and marry her.\nAppear not again before my eyes without the marriage ring.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee, lord, from my heart and soul.\"\n\n\"Oh, how pleasant it is to make people happy!\" said Nero. \"Would that I\nmight do nothing else all my life!\"\n\n\"Grant us one favor more, O divinity,\" said Petronius: \"declare thy will\nin this matter before the Augusta. Vinicius would never venture to wed\na woman displeasing to the Augusta; thou wilt dissipate her prejudice, O\nlord, with a word, by declaring that thou hast commanded this marriage.\"\n\n\"I am willing,\" said Cæsar. \"I could refuse nothing to thee or\nVinicius.\"\n\nHe turned toward the villa, and they followed. Their hearts were filled\nwith delight over the victory; and Vinicius had to use self-restraint to\navoid throwing himself on the neck of Petronius, for it seemed now that\nall dangers and obstacles were removed.\n\nIn the atrium of the villa young Nerva and Tullius Senecio were\nentertaining the Augusta with conversation. Terpnos and Diodorus were\ntuning citharæ.\n\nNero entered, sat in an armchair inlaid with tortoise-shell, whispered\nsomething in the ear of a Greek slave near his side, and waited.\n\nThe page returned soon with a golden casket. Nero opened it and took out\na necklace of great opals.\n\n\"These are jewels worthy of this evening,\" said he.\n\n\"The light of Aurora is playing in them,\" answered Poppæa, convinced\nthat the necklace was for her.\n\nCæsar, now raising, now lowering the rosy stones, said at\nlast,--\"Vinicius, thou wilt give, from me, this necklace to her whom I\ncommand thee to marry, the youthful daughter of the Lygian king.\"\n\nPoppæa's glance, filled with anger and sudden amazement, passed from\nCæsar to Vinicius. At last it rested on Petronius. But he, leaning\ncarelessly over the arm of the chair, passed his hand along the back of\nthe harp as if to fix its form firmly in his mind.\n\nVinicius gave thanks for the gift, approached Petronius, and\nasked,--\"How shall I thank thee for what thou hast done this day for\nme?\"\n\n\"Sacrifice a pair of swans to Euterpe,\" replied Petronius, \"praise\nCæsar's songs, and laugh at omens. Henceforth the roaring of lions will\nnot disturb thy sleep, I trust, nor that of thy Lygian lily.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Vinicius; \"now I am perfectly at rest.\"\n\n\"May Fortune favor thee! But be careful, for Cæsar is taking his lute\nagain. Hold thy breath, listen, and shed tears.\"\n\nIn fact Cæsar had taken the lute and raised his eyes. In the hall\nconversation had stopped, and people were as still as if petrified.\nTerpnos and Diodorus, who had to accompany Cæsar, were on the alert,\nlooking now at each other and now at his lips, waiting for the first\ntones of the song.\n\nJust then a movement and noise began in the entrance; and after a moment\nCæsar's freedman, Phaon, appeared from beyond the curtain. Close behind\nhim was the consul Lecanius.\n\nNero frowned.\n\n\"Pardon, divine Imperator,\" said Phaon, with panting voice, \"there is a\nconflagration in Rome! The greater part of the city is in flames!\"\n\nAt this news all sprang from their seats.\n\n\"O gods! I shall see a burning city and finish the Troyad,\" said Nero,\nsetting aside his lute.\n\nThen he turned to the consul,--\"If I go at once, shall I see the fire?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" answered Lecanius, as pale as a wall, \"the whole city is one\nsea of flame; smoke is suffocating the inhabitants, and people faint, or\ncast themselves into the fire from delirium. Rome is perishing, lord.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed, which was broken by the cry of Vinicius,--\n\n\"Væ misero mihi!\"\n\nAnd the young man, casting his toga aside, rushed forth in his tunic.\nNero raised his hands and exclaimed,--\n\n\"Woe to thee, sacred city of Priam!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\nVINICIUS had barely time to command a few slaves to follow him; then,\nspringing on his horse, he rushed forth in the deep night along the\nempty streets toward Laurentum. Through the influence of the dreadful\nnews he had fallen as it were into frenzy and mental distraction. At\nmoments he did not know clearly what was happening in his mind; he had\nmerely the feeling that misfortune was on the horse with him, sitting\nbehind his shoulders, and shouting in his ears, \"Rome is burning!\" that\nit was lashing his horse and him, urging them toward the fire. Laying\nhis bare head on the beast's neck, he rushed on, in his single tunic,\nalone, at random, not looking ahead, and taking no note of obstacles\nagainst which he might perchance dash himself.\n\nIn silence and in that calm night, the rider and the horse, covered with\ngleams of the moon, seemed like dream visions. The Idumean stallion,\ndropping his ears and stretching his neck, shot on like an arrow past\nthe motionless cypresses and the white villas hidden among them. The\nsound of hoofs on the stone flags roused dogs here and there; these\nfollowed the strange vision with their barking; afterward, excited by\nits suddenness, they fell to howling, and raised their jaws toward the\nmoon. The slaves hastening after Vinicius soon dropped behind, as their\nhorses were greatly inferior. When he had rushed like a storm through\nsleeping Laurentum, he turned toward Ardea, in which, as in Aricia,\nBovillæ, and Ustrinum, he had kept relays of horses from the day of\nhis coming to Antium, so as to pass in the shortest time possible the\ninterval between Rome and him. Remembering these relays, he forced all\nthe strength from his horse.\n\nBeyond Ardea it seemed to him that the sky on the northeast was covered\nwith a rosy reflection. That might be the dawn, for the hour was late,\nand in July daybreak came early. But Vinicius could not keep down a cry\nof rage and despair, for it seemed to him that that was the glare of the\nconflagration. He remembered the consul's words, \"The whole city is one\nsea of flame,\" and for a while he felt that madness was threatening him\nreally, for he had lost utterly all hope that he could save Lygia, or\neven reach the city before it was turned into one heap of ashes. His\nthoughts were quicker now than the rush of the stallion, they flew on\nahead like a flock of birds, black, monstrous, and rousing despair. He\nknew not, it is true, in what part of the city the fire had begun;\nbut he supposed that the Trans-Tiber division, as it was packed with\ntenements, timber-yards, storehouses, and wooden sheds serving as slave\nmarts, might have become the first food of the flames.\n\nIn Rome fires happened frequently enough; during these fires, as\nfrequently, deeds of violence and robbery were committed, especially in\nthe parts occupied by a needy and half-barbarous population. What\nmight happen, therefore, in a place like the Trans-Tiber, which was\nthe retreat of a rabble collected from all parts of the earth? Here\nthe thought of Ursus with his preterhuman power flashed into Vinicius's\nhead; but what could be done by a man, even were he a Titan, against the\ndestructive force of fire?\n\nThe fear of servile rebellion was like a nightmare, which had stifled\nRome for whole years. It was said that hundreds of thousands of those\npeople were thinking of the times of Spartacus, and merely waiting for\na favorable moment to seize arms against their oppressors and Rome. Now\nthe moment had come! Perhaps war and slaughter were raging in the city\ntogether with fire. It was possible even that the pretorians had hurled\nthemselves on the city, and were slaughtering at command of Cæsar.\n\nAnd that moment the hair rose from terror on his head. He recalled all\nthe conversations about burning cities, which for some time had been\nrepeated at Cæsar's court with wonderful persistence; he recalled\nCæsar's complaints that he was forced to describe a burning city without\nhaving seen a real fire; his contemptuous answer to Tigellinus, who\noffered to burn Antium or an artificial wooden city; finally, his\ncomplaints against Rome, and the pestilential alleys of the Subura. Yes;\nCæsar has commanded the burning of the city! He alone could give such a\ncommand, as Tigellinus alone could accomplish it. But if Rome is burning\nat command of Cæsar, who can be sure that the population will not be\nslaughtered at his command also? The monster is capable even of such a\ndeed. Conflagration, a servile revolt, and slaughter! What a horrible\nchaos, what a letting loose of destructive elements and popular frenzy!\nAnd in all this is Lygia.\n\nThe groans of Vinicius were mingled with the snorting and groans of\nhis horse; the beast, running on a road which rose continually toward\nAricia, was using the last of its breath. Who will snatch her from\nthe burning city; who can save her? Here Vinicius, stretching himself\nentirely on the horse, thrust his fingers into his own hair, ready to\ngnaw the beast's neck from pain.\n\nAt that moment a horseman, rushing also like a whirlwind, but in the\nopposite direction, toward Antium, shouted as he raced past, \"Rome is\nperishing!\" and on he went. To the ears of Vinicius came only one more\nexpression: \"Gods!\" the rest was drowned by the thunder of hoofs. But\nthat expression sobered him,--\"Gods!\"\n\nVinicius raised his head suddenly, and, stretching his arms toward the\nsky filled with stars, began to pray.\n\n\"Not to you do I call whose temples are burning, but to Thee! Thou\nThyself hast suffered. Thou alone art merciful! Thou alone hast\nunderstood people's pain; Thou didst come to this world to teach pity to\nmankind; then show it now. If Thou art what Peter and Paul declare, save\nfor me Lygia, take her in Thy arms, bear her out of the flames. Thou\nhast the power to do that! Give her to me, and I will give Thee my\nblood. But if Thou art unwilling to do this for me, do it for her. She\nloves Thee and trusts in Thee. Thou dost promise life and happiness\nafter death, but happiness after death will not pass away, and she does\nnot wish to die yet. Let her live. Take her in Thy arms, bear her out of\nRome. Thou canst do so, unless Thou art unwilling.\"\n\nAnd he stopped, for he felt that further prayer might turn to a threat;\nhe feared to offend Divinity at the moment when he needed favor and\nmercy most. He was terrified at the very thought of that, and, so as not\nto admit to his head a shade even of threat, he began to lash his horse\nagain, especially since the white walls of Aricia, which lay midway to\nRome, gleamed up before him in the moonlight.\n\nAfter a time he rushed at full speed past the temple of Mercury,\nwhich stood in a grove before the city. Evidently people knew of the\ncatastrophe, for there was an uncommon movement in front of the temple.\nWhile passing, Vinicius saw crowds on the steps and between the columns.\nThese people holding torches were hastening to put themselves under\nprotection of the deity. Moreover the road was not so empty or free\nas beyond Ardea. Crowds were hurrying, it is true, to the grove\nby side-paths, but on the main road were groups which pushed aside\nhurriedly before the on-rushing horseman. From the town came the sound\nof voices. Vinicius rode into Aricia like a whirlwind, overturning and\ntrampling a number of persons on the way. He was surrounded by shouts of\n\"Rome is burning!\" \"Rome is on fire!\" \"May the gods rescue Rome!\"\n\nThe horse stumbled, but, reined in by a powerful hand, rose on his\nhaunches before the inn, where Vinicius had another beast in relay.\nSlaves, as if waiting for the arrival of their master, stood before the\ninn, and at his command ran one before the other to lead out a fresh\nhorse. Vinicius, seeing a detachment of ten mounted pretorians, going\nevidently with news from the city to Antium, sprang toward them.\n\n\"What part of the city is on fire?\" inquired he.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" asked the decurion.\n\n\"Vinicius, a tribune of the army, an Augustian. Answer on thy head!\"\n\n\"The fire broke out in the shops near the Circus Maximus. When we were\ndespatched, the centre of the city was on fire.\"\n\n\"And the Trans-Tiber?\"\n\n\"The fire has not reached the Trans-Tiber yet, but it is seizing new\nparts every moment with a force which nothing can stop. People are\nperishing from heat and smoke; all rescue is impossible.\"\n\nAt this moment they brought the fresh horse. The young tribune sprang to\nhis back and rushed on. He was riding now toward Albanum, leaving Alba\nLonga and its splendid lake on the right. The road from Aricia lay at\nthe foot of the mountain, which hid the horizon completely, and Albanum\nlying on the other side of it. But Vinicius knew that on reaching the\ntop he should see, not only Bovillæ and Ustrinum, where fresh horses\nwere ready for him, but Rome as well: for beyond Albanum the low level\nCampania stretched on both sides of the Appian Way, along which only the\narches of the aqueducts ran toward the city, and nothing obstructed the\nview.\n\n\"From the top I shall see the flames,\" said he; and he began to lash his\nhorse anew. But before he had reached the top of the mountain he\nfelt the wind on his face, and with it came the odor of smoke to his\nnostrils. At the same time the summit of the height was becoming gilded.\n\n\"The fire!\" thought Vinicius.\n\nThe night had paled long since, the dawn had passed into light, and on\nall the nearer summits golden and rosy gleams were shining, which might\ncome either from burning Rome or the rising daylight. Vinicius touched\nthe summit at last, and then a terrible sight struck his eyes.\n\nThe whole lower region was covered with smoke, forming as it were one\ngigantic cloud lying close to the earth. In this cloud towns, aqueducts,\nvillas, trees, disappeared; but beyond this gray ghastly plain the city\nwas burning on the hills.\n\nThe conflagration had not the form of a pillar of fire, as happens when\na single building is burning, even when of the greatest size. That was a\nlong belt, rather, shaped like the belt of dawn. Above this belt rose a\nwave of smoke, in places entirely black, in places looking rose-colored,\nin places like blood, in places turning in on itself, in some places\ninflated, in others squeezed and squirming, like a serpent which is\nunwinding and extending. That monstrous wave seemed at times to cover\neven the belt of fire, which became then as narrow as a ribbon; but\nlater this ribbon illuminated the smoke from beneath, changing its lower\nrolls into waves of flame. The two extended from one side of the sky to\nthe other, hiding its lower part, as at times a stretch of forest hides\nthe horizon. The Sabine hills were not visible in the least.\n\nTo Vinicius it seemed at the first glance of the eye that not only the\ncity was burning, but the whole world, and that no living being could\nsave itself from that ocean of flame and smoke.\n\nThe wind blew with growing strength from the region of the fire,\nbringing the smell of burnt things and of smoke, which began to hide\neven nearer objects. Clear daylight had come, and the sun lighted up the\nsummits surrounding the Alban Lake. But the bright golden rays of\nthe morning appeared as it were reddish and sickly through the haze.\nVinicius, while descending toward Albanum, entered smoke which was\ndenser, less and less transparent. The town itself was buried in it\nthoroughly. The alarmed citizens had moved out to the street. It was\na terror to think of what might be in Rome, when it was difficult to\nbreathe in Albanum.\n\nDespair seized Vinicius anew, and terror began to raise the hair on\nhis head. But he tried to fortify himself as best he might. \"It is\nimpossible,\" thought he, \"that a city should begin to burn in all places\nat once. The wind is blowing from the north and bears smoke in this\ndirection only. On the other side there is none. But in every case it\nwill be enough for Ursus to go through the Janiculum gate with Lygia, to\nsave himself and her. It is equally impossible that a whole population\nshould perish, and the world-ruling city be swept from the face of the\nearth with its inhabitants. Even in captured places, where fire and\nslaughter rage together, some people survive in all cases; why, then,\nshould Lygia perish of a certainty? On the contrary, God watches over\nher, He who Himself, conquered death.\" Thus reasoning, he began to pray\nagain, and, yielding to fixed habit, he made great vows to Christ, with\npromises of gifts and sacrifices. After he had hurried through Albanum,\nnearly all of whose inhabitants were on roofs and on trees to look at\nRome, he grew somewhat calm, and regained his cool blood. He remembered,\ntoo, that Lygia was protected not only by Ursus and Linus, but by the\nApostle Peter. At the mere remembrance of this, fresh solace entered\nhis heart. For him Peter was an incomprehensible, an almost superhuman\nbeing. From the time when he heard him at Ostrianum, a wonderful\nimpression clung to him, touching which he had written to Lygia at the\nbeginning of his stay in Antium,--that every word of the old man was\ntrue, or would show its truth hereafter. The nearer acquaintance\nwhich during his illness he had formed with the Apostle heightened the\nimpression, which was turned afterward into fixed faith. Since Peter had\nblessed his love and promised him Lygia, Lygia could not perish in the\nflames. The city might burn, but no spark from the fire would fall on\nher garments. Under the influence of a sleepless night, mad riding, and\nimpressions, a wonderful exaltation possessed the young tribune; in this\nexaltation all things seemed possible: Peter speaks to the flame,\nopens it with a word, and they pass uninjured through an alley of fire.\nMoreover, Peter saw future events; hence, beyond doubt, he foresaw the\nfire, and in that ease how could he fail to warn and lead forth the\nChristians from the city, and among others Lygia, whom he loved, as he\nmight his own child? And a hope, which was strengthening every moment,\nentered the heart of Vinicius. If they were fleeing from the city, he\nmight find them in Bovillæ, or meet them on the road. The beloved face\nmight appear any moment from out the smoke, which was stretching more\nwidely over all the Campania.\n\nThis seemed to him more likely, since he met increasing numbers of\npeople, who had deserted the city and were going to the Alban Hills;\nthey had escaped the fire, and wished to go beyond the line of smoke.\nBefore he had reached Ustrinum he had to slacken his pace because of the\nthrong. Besides pedestrians with bundles on their backs, he met horses\nwith packs, mules and vehicles laden with effects, and finally litters\nin which slaves were bearing the wealthier citizens. Ustrinum was so\nthronged with fugitives from Rome that it was difficult to push through\nthe crowd. On the market square, under temple porticos, and on the\nstreets were swarms of fugitives. Here and there people were erecting\ntents under which whole families were to find shelter. Others settled\ndown under the naked sky, shouting, calling on the gods, or cursing the\nfates. In the general terror it was difficult to inquire about anything.\nPeople to whom Vinicius applied either did not answer, or with eyes\nhalf bewildered from terror answered that the city and the world were\nperishing. New crowds of men, women, and children arrived from the\ndirection of Rome every moment; these increased the disorder and outcry.\nSome, gone astray in the throng, sought desperately those whom they had\nlost; others fought for a camping-place. Half-wild shepherds from the\nCampania crowded to the town to hear news, or find profit in plunder\nmade easy by the uproar. Here and there crowds of slaves of every\nnationality and gladiators fell to robbing houses and villas in the\ntown, and to fighting with the soldiers who appeared in defence of the\ncitizens.\n\nJunius, a senator, whom Vinicius saw at the inn surrounded by a\ndetachment of Batavian slaves, was the first to give more detailed news\nof the conflagration. The fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, in the\npart which touches the Palatine and the Cælian Hill, but extended with\nincomprehensible rapidity and seized the whole centre of the city. Never\nsince the time of Brennus had such an awful catastrophe come upon\nRome. \"The entire Circus has burnt, as well as the shops and houses\nsurrounding it,\" said Junius; \"the Aventine and Cælian Hills are on\nfire. The flames surrounding the Palatine have reached the Carinæ.\"\n\nHere Junius, who possessed on the Carinæ a magnificent \"insula,\" filled\nwith works of art which he loved, seized a handful of foul dust, and,\nscattering it on his head, began to groan despairingly.\n\nBut Vinicius shook him by the shoulder: \"My house too is on the Carinæ,\"\nsaid he; \"but when everything is perishing, let it perish also.\"\n\nThen recollecting that at his advice Lygia might have gone to the house\nof Aulus, he inquired,--\n\n\"But the Vicus Patricius?\"\n\n\"On fire!\" replied Junius.\n\n\"The Trans-Tiber?\"\n\nJunius looked at him with amazement.\n\n\"Never mind the Trans-Tiber,\" said he, pressing his aching temples with\nhis palms.\n\n\"The Trans-Tiber is more important to me than all other parts of Rome,\"\ncried Vinicius, with vehemence.\n\n\"The way is through the Via Portuensis, near the Aventine; but the heat\nwill stifle thee. The Trans-Tiber? I know not. The fire had not reached\nit; but whether it is not there at this moment the gods alone know.\"\nHere Junius hesitated a moment, then said in a low voice: \"I know that\nthou wilt not betray me, so I will tell thee that this is no common\nfire. People were not permitted to save the Circus. When houses began to\nburn in every direction, I myself heard thousands of voices exclaiming,\n'Death to those who save!' Certain people ran through the city and\nhurled burning torches into buildings. On the other hand people are\nrevolting, and crying that the city is burning at command. I can say\nnothing more. Woe to the city, woe to us all, and to me! The tongue of\nman cannot tell what is happening there. People are perishing in flames\nor slaying one another in the throng. This is the end of Rome!\"\n\nAnd again he fell to repeating, \"Woe! Woe to the city and to us!\"\nVinicius sprang to his horse, and hurried forward along the Appian\nWay. But now it was rather a struggling through the midst of a river of\npeople and vehicles, which was flowing from the city. The city, embraced\nby a monstrous conflagration, lay before Vinicius as a thing on the palm\nof his hand. From the sea of fire and smoke came a terrible heat, and\nthe uproar of people could not drown the roar and the hissing of flames.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIII\n\n\nAs Vinicius approached the walls, he found it easier to reach Rome than\npenetrate to the middle of the city. It was difficult to push along the\nAppian Way, because of the throng of people. Houses, fields, cemeteries,\ngardens, and temples, lying on both sides of it, were turned into\ncamping places. In the temple of Mars, which stood near the Porta Appia,\nthe crowd had thrown down the doors, so as to find a refuge within\nduring night-hours. In the cemeteries the larger monuments were seized,\nand battles fought in defence of them, which were carried to bloodshed.\nUstrinum with its disorder gave barely a slight foretaste of that which\nwas happening beneath the walls of the capital. All regard for the\ndignity of law, for family ties, for difference of position, had ceased.\nGladiators drunk with wine seized in the Emporium gathered in crowds,\nran with wild shouts through the neighboring squares, scattering,\ntrampling, and robbing the people. A multitude of barbarians, exposed\nfor sale in the city, escaped from the booths. For them the burning and\nruin of Rome was at once the end of slavery and the hour of revenge; so\nthat when the permanent inhabitants, who had lost all they owned in the\nfire, stretched their hands to the gods in despair, calling for rescue,\nthese slaves with howls of delight scattered the crowds, dragged\nclothing from people's backs, and bore away the younger women. They\nwere joined by slaves serving in the city from of old, wretches who had\nnothing on their bodies save woollen girdles around their hips, dreadful\nfigures from the alleys, who were hardly ever seen on the streets in the\ndaytime, and whose existence in Rome it was difficult to suspect. Men of\nthis wild and unrestrained crowd, Asiatics, Africans, Greeks, Thracians,\nGermans, Britons, howling in every language of the earth, raged,\nthinking that the hour had come in which they were free to reward\nthemselves for years of misery and suffering. In the midst of that\nsurging throng of humanity, in the glitter of day and of fire, shone\nthe helmets of pretorians, under whose protection the more peaceable\npopulation had taken refuge, and who in hand-to-hand battle had to meet\nthe raging multitude in many places. Vinicius had seen captured cities,\nbut never had his eyes beheld a spectacle in which despair, tears, pain,\ngroans, wild delight, madness, rage, and license were mingled together\nin such immeasurable chaos. Above this heaving, mad human multitude\nroared the fire, surging up to the hill-tops of the greatest city on\nearth, sending into the whirling throng its fiery breath, and covering\nit with smoke, through which it was impossible to see the blue sky. The\nyoung tribune with supreme effort, and exposing his life every moment,\nforced his way at last to the Appian Gate; but there he saw that he\ncould not reach the city through the division of the Porta Capena, not\nmerely because of the throng, but also because of the terrible heat from\nwhich the whole atmosphere was quivering inside the gate. Besides, the\nbridge at the Porta Trigenia, opposite the temple of the Bona Dea, did\nnot exist yet, hence whoso wished to go beyond the Tiber had to push\nthrough to the Pons Sublicius, that is, to pass around the Aventine\nthrough a part of the city covered now with one sea of flame. That\nwas an impossibility. Vinicius understood that he must return toward\nUstrinum, turn from the Appian Way, cross the river below the city, and\ngo to the Via Portuensis, which led straight to the Trans-Tiber. That\nwas not easy because of the increasing disorder on the Appian Way. He\nmust open a passage for himself there, even with the sword. Vinicius had\nno weapons; he had left Antium just as the news of the fire had reached\nhim in Cæsar's villa. At the fountain of Mercury, however, he saw a\ncenturion who was known to him. This man, at the head of a few tens of\nsoldiers, was defending the precinct of the temple; he commanded him to\nfollow. Recognizing a tribune and an Augustian, the centurion did not\ndare to disobey the order.\n\nVinicius took command of the detachment himself, and, forgetting for\nthat moment the teaching of Paul touching love for one's neighbor, he\npressed and cut the throng in front with a haste that was fatal to many\nwho could not push aside in season. He and his men were followed by\ncurses and a shower of stones; but to these he gave no heed, caring\nonly to reach freer spaces at the earliest. Still he advanced with the\ngreatest effort. People who had encamped would not move, and heaped\nloud curses on Cæsar and the pretorians. The throng assumed in places a\nthreatening aspect. Vinicius heard voices accusing Nero of burning\nthe city. He and Poppæa were threatened with death. Shouts of \"Sanio,\"\n\"Histrio\" (buffoon, actor), \"Matricide!\" were heard round about. Some\nshouted to drag him to the Tiber; others that Rome had shown patience\nenough. It was clear that were a leader found, these threats could be\nchanged into open rebellion which might break out any moment. Meanwhile\nthe rage and despair of the crowd turned against the pretorians, who for\nanother reason could not make their way out of the crowd: the road\nwas blocked by piles of goods, borne from the fire previously, boxes,\nbarrels of provisions, furniture the most costly, vessels, infants'\ncradles, beds, carts, hand-packs. Here and there they fought hand to\nhand; but the pretorians conquered the weaponless multitude easily.\nAfter they had ridden with difficulty across the Viæ Latina, Numitia,\nArdea, Lavinia, and Ostia, and passed around villas, gardens,\ncemeteries, and temples, Vinicius reached at last a village called Vicus\nAlexandri, beyond which he crossed the Tiber. There was more open space\nat this spot, and less smoke. From fugitives, of whom there was no lack\neven there, he learned that only certain alleys of the Trans-Tiber\nwere burning, but that surely nothing could resist the fury of the\nconflagration, since people were spreading the fire purposely, and\npermitted no one to quench it, declaring that they acted at command. The\nyoung tribune had not the least doubt then that Cæsar had given command\nto burn Rome; and the vengeance which people demanded seemed to him just\nand proper. What more could Mithridates or any of Rome's most inveterate\nenemies have done? The measure had been exceeded; his madness had grown\nto be too enormous, and the existence of people too difficult because\nof him. Vinicius believed that Nero's hour had struck, that those ruins\ninto which the city was falling should and must overwhelm the monstrous\nbuffoon together with all those crimes of his. Should a man be found of\ncourage sufficient to stand at the head of the despairing people, that\nmight happen in a few hours. Here vengeful and daring thoughts began to\nfly through his head. But if he should do that? The house of Vinicius,\nwhich till recent times counted a whole series of consuls, was known\nthroughout Rome. The crowds needed only a name. Once, when four hundred\nslaves of the prefect Pedanius Secundus were sentenced, Rome reached the\nverge of rebellion and civil war. What would happen to-day in view of a\ndreadful calamity surpassing almost everything which Rome had undergone\nin the course of eight centuries? Whoso calls the Quirites to arms,\nthought Vinicius, will overthrow Nero undoubtedly, and clothe himself\nin purple. And why should he not do this? He was firmer, more active,\nyounger than other Augustians. True, Nero commanded thirty legions\nstationed on the borders of the Empire; but would not those legions and\ntheir leaders rise up at news of the burning of Rome and its temples?\nAnd in that case Vinicius might become Cæsar. It was even whispered\namong the Augustians that a soothsayer had predicted the purple to Otho.\nIn what way was he inferior to Otho? Perhaps Christ Himself would assist\nhim with His divine power; maybe that inspiration was His? \"Oh, would\nthat it were!\" exclaimed Vinicius, in spirit. He would take vengeance on\nNero for the danger of Lygia and his own fear; he would begin the\nreign of truth and justice, he would extend Christ's religion from the\nEuphrates to the misty shores of Britain; he would array Lygia in the\npurple, and make her mistress of the world.\n\nBut these thoughts which had burst forth in his head like a bunch of\nsparks from a blazing house, died away like sparks. First of all was the\nneed to save Lygia. He looked now on the catastrophe from near by; hence\nfear seized him again, and before that sea of flame and smoke, before\nthe touch of dreadful reality, that confidence with which he believed\nthat Peter would rescue Lygia died in his heart altogether. Despair\nseized him a second time when he had come out on the Via Portuensis,\nwhich led directly to the Trans-Tiber. He did not recover till he came\nto the gate, where people repeated what fugitives had said before, that\nthe greater part of that division of the city was not seized by the\nflames yet, but that fire had crossed the river in a number of places.\n\nStill the Trans-Tiber was full of smoke, and crowds of fugitives made it\nmore difficult to reach the interior of the place, since people, having\nmore time there, had saved greater quantities of goods. The main street\nitself was in many parts filled completely, and around the Naumachia\nAugusta great heaps were piled up. Narrow alleys, in which smoke had\ncollected more densely, were simply impassable. The inhabitants were\nfleeing in thousands. On the way Vinicius saw wonderful sights. More\nthan once two rivers of people, flowing in opposite directions, met in a\nnarrow passage, stopped each other, men fought hand to hand, struck and\ntrampled one another. Families lost one another in the uproar; mothers\ncalled on their children despairingly. The young tribune's hair stood\non end at thought of what must happen nearer the fire. Amid shouts and\nhowls it was difficult to inquire about anything or understand what was\nsaid. At times new columns of smoke from beyond the river rolled toward\nthem, smoke black and so heavy that it moved near the ground, hiding\nhouses, people, and every object, just as night does. But the wind\ncaused by the conflagration blew it away again, and then Vinicius pushed\nforward farther toward the alley in which stood the house of Linus. The\nfervor of a July day, increased by the heat of the burning parts of the\ncity, became unendurable. Smoke pained the eyes; breath failed in men's\nbreasts. Even the inhabitants who, hoping that the fire would not cross\nthe river, had remained in their houses so far, began to leave them;\nand the throng increased hourly. The pretorians accompanying Vinicius\nremained in the rear. In the crush some one wounded his horse with\na hammer; the beast threw up its bloody head, reared, and refused\nobedience. The crowd recognized in Vinicius an Augustian by his rich\ntunic, and at once cries were raised round about: \"Death to Nero and his\nincendiaries!\" This was a moment of terrible danger; hundreds of hands\nwere stretched toward Vinicius; but his frightened horse bore him away,\ntrampling people as he went, and the next moment a new wave of black\nsmoke rolled in and filled the street with darkness. Vinicius, seeing\nthat he could not ride past, sprang to the earth and rushed forward\non foot, slipping along walls, and at times waiting till the fleeing\nmultitude passed him. He said to himself in spirit that these were vain\nefforts. Lygia might not be in the city; she might have saved herself\nby flight. It was easier to find a pin on the seashore than her in that\ncrowd and chaos. Still he wished to reach the house of Linus, even\nat the cost of his own life. At times he stopped and rubbed his eyes.\nTearing off the edge of his tunic, he covered his nose and mouth with\nit and ran on. As he approached the river, the heat increased terribly.\nVinicius, knowing that the fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, thought\nat first that that heat came from its cinders and from the Forum Boarium\nand the Velabrum, which, situated near by, must be also in flames. But\nthe heat was growing unendurable. One old man on crutches and fleeing,\nthe last whom Vinicius noticed, cried: \"Go not near the bridge of\nCestius! The whole island is on fire!\" It was, indeed, impossible to\nbe deceived any longer. At the turn toward the Vicus Judæorum, on which\nstood the house of Linus, the young tribune saw flames amid clouds of\nsmoke. Not only the island was burning, but the Trans-Tiber, or at least\nthe other end of the street on which Lygia dwelt.\n\nVinicius remembered that the house of Linus was surrounded by a garden;\nbetween the garden and the Tiber was an unoccupied field of no great\nsize. This thought consoled him. The fire might stop at the vacant\nplace. In that hope he ran forward, though every breeze brought not only\nsmoke, but sparks in thousands, which might raise a fire at the other\nend of the alley and cut off his return.\n\nAt last he saw through the smoky curtain the cypresses in Linus's\ngarden.\n\nThe houses beyond the unoccupied field were burning already like piles\nof fuel, but Linus's little \"insula\" stood untouched yet. Vinicius\nglanced heavenward with thankfulness, and sprang toward the house though\nthe very air began to burn him. The door was closed, but he pushed it\nopen and rushed in.\n\nThere was not a living soul in the garden, and the house seemed\nquite empty. \"Perhaps they have fainted from smoke and heat,\" thought\nVinicius. He began to call,--\n\n\"Lygia! Lygia!\"\n\nSilence answered him. Nothing could be heard in the stillness there save\nthe roar of the distant fire.\n\n\"Lygia!\"\n\nSuddenly his ear was struck by that gloomy sound which he had heard\nbefore in that garden. Evidently the vivarium near the temple of\nEsculapius, on the neighboring island, had caught fire. In this vivarium\nevery kind of wild beast, and among others lions, began to roar from\naffright. A shiver ran through Vinicius from foot to head. Now, a second\ntime, at a moment when his whole being was concentrated in Lygia, these\nterrible voices answered, as a herald of misfortune, as a marvellous\nprophecy of an ominous future.\n\nBut this was a brief impression, for the thunder of the flames, more\nterrible yet than the roaring of wild beasts, commanded him to think of\nsomething else. Lygia did not answer his calls; but she might be in a\nfaint or stifled in that threatened building. Vinicius sprang to the\ninterior. The little atrium was empty, and dark with smoke. Feeling for\nthe door which led to the sleeping-rooms, he saw the gleaming flame of\na small lamp, and approaching it saw the lararium in which was a cross\ninstead of lares. Under the cross a taper was burning. Through the head\nof the young catechumen, the thought passed with lightning speed that\nthat cross sent him the taper with which he could find Lygia; hence he\ntook the taper and searched for the sleeping-rooms. He found one, pushed\naside the curtains, and, holding the taper, looked around.\n\nThere was no one there, either. Vinicius was sure that he had found\nLygia's sleeping-room, for her clothing was on nails in the wall, and\non the bed lay a capitium, or close garment worn by women next the body.\nVinicius seized that, pressed it to his lips, and taking it on his arm\nwent farther. The house was small, so that he examined every room, and\neven the cellar quickly. Nowhere could he find a living soul. It was\nevident that Lygia, Linus, and Ursus, with other inhabitants of that\npart, must have sought safety in flight.\n\n\"I must seek them among the crowd beyond the gates of the city,\" thought\nVinicius.\n\nHe was not astonished greatly at not meeting them on the Via Portuensis,\nfor they might have left the Trans-Tiber through the opposite side along\nthe Vatican Hill. In every case they were safe from fire at least. A\nstone fell from his breast. He saw, it is true, the terrible danger with\nwhich the flight was connected, but he was comforted at thought of the\npreterhuman strength of Ursus. \"I must flee now,\" said he, \"and reach\nthe gardens of Agrippina through the gardens of Domitius, where I shall\nfind them. The smoke is not so terrible there, since the wind blows from\nthe Sabine Hill.\"\n\nThe hour had come now in which he must think of his own safety, for the\nriver of fire was flowing nearer and nearer from the direction of the\nisland, and rolls of smoke covered the alley almost completely. The\ntaper, which had lighted him in the house, was quenched from the current\nof air. Vinicius rushed to the street, and ran at full speed toward the\nVia Portuensis, whence he had come; the fire seemed to pursue him with\nburning breath, now surrounding him with fresh clouds of smoke, now\ncovering him with sparks, which fell on his hair, neck, and clothing.\nThe tunic began to smoulder on him in places; he cared not, but ran\nforward lest he might be stifled from smoke. He had the taste of soot\nand burning in his mouth; his throat and lungs were as if on fire. The\nblood rushed to his head, and at moments all things, even the smoke\nitself, seemed red to him. Then he thought: \"This is living fire! Better\ncast myself on the ground and perish.\" The running tortured him more\nand more. His head, neck, and shoulders were streaming with sweat, which\nscalded like boiling water. Had it not been for Lygia's name, repeated\nby him in thought, had it not been for her capitium, which he wound\nacross his mouth, he would have fallen. Some moments later he failed to\nrecognize the street along which he ran. Consciousness was leaving him\ngradually; he remembered only that he must flee, for in the open field\nbeyond waited Lygia, whom Peter had promised him. And all at once he was\nseized by a certain wonderful conviction, half feverish, like a vision\nbefore death, that he must see her, marry her, and then die.\n\nBut he ran on as if drunk, staggering from one side of the street to the\nother. Meanwhile something changed in that monstrous conflagration\nwhich had embraced the giant city. Everything which till then had only\nglimmered, burst forth visibly into one sea of flame; the wind had\nceased to bring smoke. That smoke which had collected in the streets\nwas borne away by a mad whirl of heated air. That whirl drove with it\nmillions of sparks, so that Vinicius was running in a fiery cloud as it\nwere. But he was able to see before him all the better, and in a moment,\nalmost when he was ready to fall, he saw the end of the street. That\nsight gave him fresh strength. Passing the corner, he found himself in a\nstreet which led to the Via Portuensis and the Codetan Field. The sparks\nceased to drive him. He understood that if he could run to the Via\nPortuensis he was safe, even were he to faint on it.\n\nAt the end of the street he saw again a cloud, as it seemed, which\nstopped the exit. \"If that is smoke,\" thought he, \"I cannot pass.\" He\nran with the remnant of his strength. On the way he threw off his\ntunic, which, on fire from the sparks, was burning him like the shirt\nof Nessus, having only Lygia's capitium around his head and before his\nmouth. When he had run farther, he saw that what he had taken for smoke\nwas dust, from which rose a multitude of cries and voices.\n\n\"The rabble are plundering houses,\" thought Vinicius. But he ran toward\nthe voices. In every case people were there; they might assist him. In\nthis hope he shouted for aid with all his might before he reached them.\nBut this was his last effort. It grew redder still in his eyes, breath\nfailed his lungs, strength failed his bones; he fell.\n\nThey heard him, however, or rather saw him. Two men ran with gourds\nfull of water. Vinicius, who had fallen from exhaustion but had not lost\nconsciousness, seized a gourd with both hands, and emptied one-half of\nit.\n\n\"Thanks,\" said he; \"place me on my feet, I can walk on alone.\"\n\nThe other laborer poured water on his head; the two not only placed\nhim on his feet, but raised him from the ground, and carried him to the\nothers, who surrounded him and asked if he had suffered seriously. This\ntenderness astonished Vinicius.\n\n\"People, who are ye?\" asked he.\n\n\"We are breaking down houses, so that the fire may not reach the Via\nPortuensis,\" answered one of the laborers.\n\n\"Ye came to my aid when I had fallen. Thanks to you.\"\n\n\"We are not permitted to refuse aid,\" answered a number of voices.\n\nVinicius, who from early morning had seen brutal crowds, slaying and\nrobbing, looked with more attention on the faces around him, and said,--\n\n\"May Christ reward you.\"\n\n\"Praise to His name!\" exclaimed a whole chorus of voices.\n\n\"Linus?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\nBut he could not finish the question or hear the answer, for he fainted\nfrom emotion and over-exertion. He recovered only in the Codetan Field\nin a garden, surrounded by a number of men and women. The first words\nwhich he uttered were,--\n\n\"Where is Linus?\"\n\nFor a while there was no answer; then some voice, known to Vinicius,\nsaid all at once,--\n\n\"He went out by the Nomentan Gate to Ostrianum two days ago. Peace be\nwith thee, O king of Persia!\"\n\nVinicius rose to a sitting posture, and saw Chilo before him.\n\n\"Thy house is burned surely, O lord,\" said the Greek, \"for the Carinæ\nis in flames; but thou wilt be always as rich as Midas. Oh, what a\nmisfortune! The Christians, O son of Serapis, have predicted this long\ntime that fire would destroy the city. But Linus, with the daughter of\nJove, is in Ostrianum. Oh, what a misfortune for the city!\"\n\nVinicius became weak again.\n\n\"Hast thou seen them?\" he inquired.\n\n\"I saw them, O lord. May Christ and all the gods be thanked that I am\nable to pay for thy benefactions with good news. But, O Cyrus, I shall\npay thee still more, I swear by this burning Rome.\"\n\nIt was evening, but in the garden one could see as in daylight, for the\nconflagration had increased. It seemed that not single parts of the city\nwere burning, but the whole city through the length and the breadth of\nit. The sky was red as far as the eye could see it, and that night in\nthe world was a red night.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIV\n\n\nLight from the burning city filled the sky as far as human eye could\nreach. The moon rose large and full from behind the mountains, and\ninflamed at once by the glare took on the color of heated brass.\nIt seemed to look with amazement on the world-ruling city which was\nperishing. In the rose-colored abysses of heaven rose-colored stars were\nglittering; but in distinction from usual nights the earth was brighter\nthan the heavens. Rome, like a giant pile, illuminated the whole\nCampania. In the bloody light were seen distant mountains, towns,\nvillas, temples, mountains, and the aqueducts stretching toward the city\nfrom all the adjacent hills; on the aqueducts were swarms of people, who\nhad gathered there for safety or to gaze at the burning.\n\nMeanwhile the dreadful element was embracing new divisions of the city.\nIt was impossible to doubt that criminal hands were spreading the fire,\nsince new conflagrations were breaking out all the time in places remote\nfrom the principal fire. From the heights on which Rome was founded the\nflames flowed like waves of the sea into the valleys densely occupied by\nhouses,--houses of five and six stories, full of shops, booths, movable\nwooden amphitheatres, built to accommodate various spectacles; and\nfinally storehouses of wood, olives, grain, nuts, pine cones, the\nkernels of which nourished the more needy population, and clothing,\nwhich through Cæsar's favor was distributed from time to time among the\nrabble huddled into narrow alleys. In those places the fire, finding\nabundance of inflammable materials, became almost a series of\nexplosions, and took possession of whole streets with unheard-of\nrapidity. People encamping outside the city, or standing on the\naqueducts knew from the color of the flame what was burning. The furious\npower of the wind carried forth from the fiery gulf thousands and\nmillions of burning shells of walnuts and almonds, which, shooting\nsuddenly into the sky, like countless flocks of bright butterflies,\nburst with a crackling, or, driven by the wind, fell in other parts of\nthe city, on aqueducts, and fields beyond Rome. All thought of rescue\nseemed out of place; confusion increased every moment, for on one side\nthe population of the city was fleeing through every gate to places\noutside; on the other the fire had lured in thousands of people from the\nneighborhood, such as dwellers in small towns, peasants, and half-wild\nshepherds of the Campania, brought in by hope of plunder. The shout,\n\"Rome is perishing!\" did not leave the lips of the crowd; the ruin of\nthe city seemed at that time to end every rule, and loosen all bonds\nwhich hitherto had joined people in a single integrity. The mob, in\nwhich slaves were more numerous, cared nothing for the lordship of Rome.\nDestruction of the city could only free them; hence here and there they\nassumed a threatening attitude. Violence and robbery were extending. It\nseemed that only the spectacle of the perishing city arrested attention,\nand restrained for the moment an outburst of slaughter, which would\nbegin as soon as the city was turned into ruins. Hundreds of thousands\nof slaves, forgetting that Rome, besides temples and walls, possessed\nsome tens of legions in all parts of the world, appeared merely waiting\nfor a watchword and a leader. People began to mention the name of\nSpartacus, but Spartacus was not alive. Meanwhile citizens assembled,\nand armed themselves each with what he could. The most monstrous reports\nwere current at all the gates. Some declared that Vulcan, commanded\nby Jupiter, was destroying the city with fire from beneath the earth;\nothers that Vesta was taking vengeance for Rubria. People with these\nconvictions did not care to save anything, but, besieging the temples,\nimplored mercy of the gods. It was repeated most generally, however,\nthat Cæsar had given command to burn Rome, so as to free himself from\nodors which rose from the Subura, and build a new city under the name\nof Neronia. Rage seized the populace at thought of this; and if, as\nVinicius believed, a leader had taken advantage of that outburst of\nhatred, Nero's hour would have struck whole years before it did.\n\nIt was said also that Cæsar had gone mad, that he would command\npretorians and gladiators to fall upon the people and make a general\nslaughter. Others swore by the gods that wild beasts had been let out\nof all the vivaria at Bronzebeard's command. Men had seen on the streets\nlions with burning manes, and mad elephants and bisons, trampling down\npeople in crowds. There was even some truth in this; for in certain\nplaces elephants, at sight of the approaching fire, had burst the\nvivaria, and, gaining their freedom, rushed away from the fire in wild\nfright, destroying everything before them like a tempest. Public report\nestimated at tens of thousands the number of persons who had perished\nin the conflagration. In truth a great number had perished. There were\npeople who, losing all their property, or those dearest their hearts,\nthrew themselves willingly into the flames, from despair. Others were\nsuffocated by smoke. In the middle of the city, between the Capitol, on\none side, and the Quirinal, the Viminal, and the Esquiline on the other,\nas also between the Palatine and the Cælian Hill, where the streets were\nmost densely occupied, the fire began in so many places at once\nthat whole crowds of people, while fleeing in one direction, struck\nunexpectedly on a new wall of fire in front of them, and died a dreadful\ndeath in a deluge of flame.\n\nIn terror, in distraction, and bewilderment, people knew not where to\nflee. The streets were obstructed with goods, and in many narrow places\nwere simply closed. Those who took refuge in those markets and squares\nof the city, where the Flavian Amphitheatre stood afterward, near the\ntemple of the Earth, near the Portico of Silvia, and higher up, at the\ntemples of Juno and Lucinia, between the Clivus Virbius and the old\nEsquiline Gate, perished from heat, surrounded by a sea of fire. In\nplaces not reached by the flames were found afterward hundreds of bodies\nburned to a crisp, though here and there unfortunates tore up flat\nstones and half buried themselves in defence against the heat. Hardly a\nfamily inhabiting the centre of the city survived in full; hence along\nthe walls, at the gates, on all roads were heard howls of despairing\nwomen, calling on the dear names of those who had perished in the throng\nor the fire.\n\nAnd so, while some were imploring the gods, others blasphemed them\nbecause of this awful catastrophe. Old men were seen coming from the\ntemple of Jupiter Liberator, stretching forth their hands, and crying,\n\"If thou be a liberator, save thy altars and the city!\" But despair\nturned mainly against the old Roman gods, who, in the minds of the\npopulace, were bound to watch over the city more carefully than others.\nThey had proved themselves powerless; hence were insulted. On the other\nhand it happened on the Via Asinaria that when a company of Egyptian\npriests appeared conducting a statue of Isis, which they had saved from\nthe temple near the Porta Cælimontana, a crowd of people rushed among\nthe priests, attached themselves to the chariot, which they drew to the\nAppian Gate, and seizing the statue placed it in the temple of Mars,\noverwhelming the priests of that deity who dared to resist them. In\nother places people invoked Serapis, Baal, or Jehovah, whose adherents,\nswarming out of the alleys in the neighborhood of the Subura and the\nTrans-Tiber, filled with shouts and uproar the fields near the walls. In\ntheir cries were heard tones as if of triumph; when, therefore, some of\nthe citizens joined the chorus and glorified \"the Lord of the World,\"\nothers, indignant at this glad shouting, strove to repress it by\nviolence. Here and there hymns were heard, sung by men in the bloom of\nlife, by old men, by women and children,--hymns wonderful and solemn,\nwhose meaning they understood not, but in which were repeated from\nmoment to moment the words, \"Behold the Judge cometh in the day of\nwrath and disaster.\" Thus this deluge of restless and sleepless people\nencircled the burning city, like a tempest-driven sea.\n\nBut neither despair nor blasphemy nor hymn helped in any way.\nThe destruction seemed as irresistible, perfect, and pitiless as\nPredestination itself. Around Pompey's Amphitheatre stores of hemp\ncaught fire, and ropes used in circuses, arenas, and every kind of\nmachine at the games, and with them the adjoining buildings containing\nbarrels of pitch with which ropes were smeared. In a few hours all that\npart of the city, beyond which lay the Campus Martius, was so lighted by\nbright yellow flames that for a time it seemed to the spectators, only\nhalf conscious from terror, that in the general ruin the order of night\nand day had been lost, and that they were looking at sunshine. But later\na monstrous bloody gleam extinguished all other colors of flame. From\nthe sea of fire shot up to the heated sky gigantic fountains, and\npillars of flame spreading at their summits into fiery branches and\nfeathers; then the wind bore them away, turned them into golden threads,\ninto hair, into sparks, and swept them on over the Campania toward\nthe Alban Hills. The night became brighter; the air itself seemed\npenetrated, not only with light, but with flame. The Tiber flowed on\nas living fire. The hapless city was turned into one pandemonium. The\nconflagration seized more and more space, took hills by storm, flooded\nlevel places, drowned valleys, raged, roared, and thundered.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLV\n\n\nMACRINUS, a weaver, to whose house Vinicius was carried, washed him,\nand gave him clothing and food. When the young tribune had recovered his\nstrength altogether, he declared that he would search further for\nLinus that very night. Macrinus, who was a Christian, confirmed\nChilo's report, that Linus, with Clement the chief priest, had gone to\nOstrianum, where Peter was to baptize a whole company of confessors of\nthe new faith. In that division of the city it was known to Christians\nthat Linus had confided the care of his house two days before to a\ncertain Gaius. For Vinicius this was a proof that neither Lygia nor\nUrsus had remained in the house, and that they also must have gone to\nOstrianum.\n\nThis thought gave him great comfort. Linus was an old man, for whom it\nwould be difficult to walk daily to the distant Nomentan Gate, and back\nto the Trans-Tiber; hence it was likely that he lodged those few days\nwith some co-religionist beyond the walls, and with him also Lygia and\nUrsus. Thus they escaped the fire, which in general had not reached the\nother slope of the Esquiline. Vinicius saw in all this a dispensation of\nChrist, whose care he felt above him, and his heart was filled more\nthan ever with love; he swore in his soul to pay with his whole life for\nthose clear marks of favor.\n\nBut all the more did he hurry to Ostrianum. He would find Lygia, find\nLinus and Peter; he would take them to a distance, to some of his lands,\neven to Sicily. Let Rome burn; in a few days it would be a mere heap of\nashes. Why remain in the face of disaster and a mad rabble? In his lands\ntroops of obedient slaves would protect them, they would be surrounded\nby the calm of the country, and live in peace under Christ's wings\nblessed by Peter. Oh, if he could find them!\n\nThat was no easy thing. Vinicius remembered the difficulty with which\nhe had passed from the Appian Way to the Trans-Tiber, and how he must\ncircle around to reach the Via Portuensis. He resolved, therefore, to\ngo around the city this time in the opposite direction. Going by the\nVia Triumphatoris, it was possible to reach the Æmilian bridge by\ngoing along the river, thence passing the Pincian Hill, all the Campus\nMartius, outside the gardens of Pompey, Lucullus, and Sallust, to make\na push forward to the Via Nomentana. That was the shortest way; but\nMacrinus and Chilo advised him not to take it. The fire had not touched\nthat part of the city, it is true; but all the market squares and\nstreets might be packed densely with people and their goods. Chilo\nadvised him to go through the Ager Vaticanus to the Porta Flaminia,\ncross the river at that point, and push on outside the walls beyond\nthe gardens of Acilius to the Porta Salaria. Vinicius, after a moment's\nhesitation, took this advice.\n\nMacrinus had to remain in care of his house; but he provided two mules,\nwhich would serve Lygia also in a further journey. He wished to give a\nslave, too; but Vinicius refused, judging that the first detachment of\npretorians he met on the road would pass under his orders.\n\nSoon he and Chilo moved on through the Pagus Janiculensis to the\nTriumphal Way. There were vehicles there, too, in open places; but they\npushed between them with less difficulty, as the inhabitants had fled\nfor the greater part by the Via Portuensis toward the sea. Beyond the\nSeptimian Gate they rode between the river and the splendid gardens of\nDomitius; the mighty cypresses were red from the conflagration, as\nif from evening sunshine. The road became freer; at times they had to\nstruggle merely with the current of incoming rustics. Vinicius urged his\nmule forward as much as possible; but Chilo, riding closely in the rear,\ntalked to himself almost the whole way.\n\n\"Well, we have left the fire behind, and now it is heating our\nshoulders. Never yet has there been so much light on this road in the\nnight-time. O Zeus! if thou wilt not send torrents of rain on that fire,\nthou hast no love for Rome, surely. The power of man will not quench\nthose flames. Such a city,--a city which Greece and the whole world was\nserving! And now the first Greek who comes along may roast beans in its\nashes. Who could have looked for this? And now there will be no longer a\nRome, nor Roman rulers. Whoso wants to walk on the ashes, when they\ngrow cold, and whistle over them, may whistle without danger. O gods!\nto whistle over such a world-ruling city! What Greek, or even barbarian,\ncould have hoped for this? And still one may whistle; for a heap of\nashes, whether left after a shepherd's fire or a burnt city, is mere\nashes, which the wind will blow away sooner or later.\"\n\nThus talking, he turned from moment to moment toward the conflagration,\nand looked at the waves of flame with a face filled at once with delight\nand malice.\n\n\"It will perish! It will perish!\" continued he, \"and will never be on\nearth again. Whither will the world send its wheat now, its olives,\nand its money? Who will squeeze gold and tears from it? Marble does not\nburn, but it crumbles in fire. The Capitol will turn into dust, and the\nPalatine into dust. O Zeus! Rome was like a shepherd, and other nations\nlike sheep. When the shepherd was hungry, he slaughtered a sheep, ate\nthe flesh, and to thee, O father of the gods, he made an offering of\nthe skin. Who, O Cloud-compeller, will do the slaughtering now, and into\nwhose hand wilt thou put the shepherd's whip? For Rome is burning, O\nfather, as truly as if thou hadst fired it with thy thunderbolt.\"\n\n\"Hurry!\" urged Vinicius; \"what art thou doing there?\"\n\n\"I am weeping over Rome, lord,--Jove's city!\"\n\nFor a time they rode on in silence, listening to the roar of the\nburning, and the sound of birds' wings. Doves, a multitude of which had\ntheir nests about villas and in small towns of the Campania, and\nalso every kind of field-bird from near the sea and the surrounding\nmountains, mistaking evidently the gleam of the conflagration for\nsunlight, were flying, whole flocks of them, blindly into the fire.\nVinicius broke the silence first,--\n\n\"Where wert thou when the fire burst out?\"\n\n\"I was going to my friend Euricius, lord, who kept a shop near the\nCircus Maximus, and I was just meditating on the teaching of Christ,\nwhen men began to shout: 'Fire!' People gathered around the Circus for\nsafety, and through curiosity; but when the flames seized the whole\nCircus, and began to appear in other places also, each had to think of\nhis own safety.\"\n\n\"Didst thou see people throwing torches into houses?\"\n\n\"What have I not seen, O grandson of Æneas! I saw people making a way\nfor themselves through the crowd with swords; I have seen battles, the\nentrails of people trampled on the pavement. Ah, if thou hadst seen\nthat, thou wouldst have thought that barbarians had captured the city,\nand were putting it to the sword. People round about cried that the end\nof the world had come. Some lost their heads altogether, and, forgetting\nto flee, waited stupidly till the flames seized them. Some fell into\nbewilderment, others howled in despair; I saw some also who howled from\ndelight. O lord, there are many bad people in the world who know not\nhow to value the benefactions of your mild rule, and those just laws\nin virtue of which ye take from all what they have and give it to\nyourselves. People will not be reconciled to the will of God!\"\n\nVinicius was too much occupied with his own thoughts to note the irony\nquivering in Chilo's words. A shudder of terror seized him at the simple\nthought that Lygia might be in the midst of that chaos on those terrible\nstreets where people's entrails were trampled on. Hence, though he had\nasked at least ten times of Chilo touching all which the old man could\nknow, he turned to him once again,--\n\n\"But hast thou seen them in Ostrianum with thy own eyes?\"\n\n\"I saw them, O son of Venus; I saw the maiden, the good Lygian, holy\nLinus, and the Apostle Peter.\"\n\n\"Before the fire?\"\n\n\"Before the fire, O Mithra!\"\n\nBut a doubt rose in the soul of Vinicius whether Chilo was not lying;\nhence, reining his mule in, he looked threateningly at the old Greek and\ninquired,--\n\n\"What wert thou doing there?\"\n\nChilo was confused. True, it seemed to him, as to many, that with the\ndestruction of Rome would come the end also of Roman dominion. But he\nwas face to face with Vinicius; he remembered that the young soldier had\nprohibited him, under a terrible threat, from watching the Christians,\nand especially Linus and Lygia.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"why dost thou not believe that I love them? I do. I\nwas in Ostrianum, for I am half a Christian. Pyrrho has taught me to\nesteem virtue more than philosophy; hence I cleave more and more to\nvirtuous people. And, besides, I am poor; and when thou, O Jove, wert at\nAntium, I suffered hunger frequently over my books; therefore I sat at\nthe wall of Ostrianum, for the Christians, though poor, distribute more\nalms than all other inhabitants of Rome taken together.\"\n\nThis reason seemed sufficient to Vinicius, and he inquired less\nseverely,--\n\n\"And dost thou not know where Linus is dwelling at this moment?\"\n\n\"Thou didst punish me sharply on a time for curiosity,\" replied the\nGreek.\n\nVinicius ceased talking and rode on.\n\n\"O lord,\" said Chilo, after a while, \"thou wouldst not have found the\nmaiden but for me, and if we find her now, thou wilt not forget the\nneedy sage?\"\n\n\"Thou wilt receive a house with a vineyard at Ameriola.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee, O Hercules! With a vineyard? Thanks to thee! Oh, yes,\nwith a vineyard!\"\n\nThey were passing the Vatican Hill now, which was ruddy from the fire;\nbut beyond the Naumachia they turned to the right, so that when they had\npassed the Vatican Field they would reach the river, and, crossing it,\ngo to the Flaminian Gate. Suddenly Chilo reined in his mule, and said,--\n\n\"A good thought has come to my head, lord!\"\n\n\"Speak!\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Between the Janiculum and the Vatican Hill, beyond the gardens of\nAgrippina, are excavations from which stones and sand were taken to\nbuild the Circus of Nero. Hear me, lord. Recently the Jews, of whom,\nas thou knowest, there is a multitude in Trans-Tiber, have begun to\npersecute Christians cruelly. Thou hast in mind that in the time of the\ndivine Claudius there were such disturbances that Cæsar was forced to\nexpel them from Rome. Now, when they have returned, and when, thanks\nto the protection of the Augusta, they feel safe, they annoy Christians\nmore insolently. I know this; I have seen it. No edict against\nChristians has been issued; but the Jews complain to the prefect of\nthe city that Christians murder infants, worship an ass, and preach a\nreligion not recognized by the Senate; they beat them, and attack their\nhouses of prayer so fiercely that the Christians are forced to hide.\"\n\n\"What dost thou wish to say?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"This, lord, that synagogues exist openly in the Trans-Tiber; but that\nChristians, in their wish to avoid persecution, are forced to pray in\nsecret and assemble in ruined sheds outside the city or in sand-pits.\nThose who dwell in the Trans-Tiber have chosen just that place which was\nexcavated for the building of the Circus and various houses along the\nTiber. Now, when the city is perishing, the adherents of Christ are\npraying. Beyond doubt we shall find a countless number of them in the\nexcavation; so my advice is to go in there along the road.\"\n\n\"But thou hast said that Linus has gone to Ostrianum,\" cried Vinicius\nimpatiently.\n\n\"But thou has promised me a house with a vineyard at Ameriola,\" answered\nChilo; \"for that reason I wish to seek the maiden wherever I hope to\nfind her. They might have returned to the Trans-Tiber after the outbreak\nof the fire. They might have gone around outside the city, as we are\ndoing at this moment. Linus has a house, perhaps he wished to be nearer\nhis house to see if the fire had seized that part of the city also. If\nthey have returned, I swear to thee, by Persephone, that we shall find\nthem at prayer in the excavation; in the worst event, we shall get\ntidings of them.\"\n\n\"Thou art right; lead on!\" said the tribune.\n\nChilo, without hesitation, turned to the left toward the hill.\n\nFor a while the slope of the hill concealed the conflagration, so that,\nthough the neighboring heights were in the light, the two men were in\nthe shade. When they had passed the Circus, they turned still to\nthe left, and entered a kind of passage completely dark. But in that\ndarkness Vinicius saw swarms of gleaming lanterns.\n\n\"They are there,\" said Chilo. \"There will be more of them to-day than\never, for other houses of prayer are burnt or are filled with smoke, as\nis the whole Trans-Tiber.\"\n\n\"True!\" said Vinicius, \"I hear singing.\"\n\nIn fact, the voices of people singing reached the hill from the dark\nopening, and the lanterns vanished in it one after the other. But from\nside passages new forms appeared continually, so that after some time\nVinicius and Chilo found themselves amid a whole assemblage of people.\n\nChilo slipped from his mule, and, beckoning to a youth who sat near,\nsaid to him,--\"I am a priest of Christ and a bishop. Hold the mules for\nus; thou wilt receive my blessing and forgiveness of sins.\"\n\nThen, without waiting for an answer, he thrust the reins into his hands,\nand, in company with Vinicius, joined the advancing throng.\n\nThey entered the excavation after a while, and pushed on through the\ndark passage by the dim light of lanterns till they reached a spacious\ncave, from which stone had been taken evidently, for the walls were\nformed of fresh fragments.\n\nIt was brighter there than in the corridor, for, in addition to tapers\nand lanterns, torches were burning. By the light of these Vinicius saw\na whole throng of kneeling people with upraised hands. He could not\nsee Lygia, the Apostle Peter, or Linus, but he was surrounded by faces\nsolemn and full of emotion. On some of them expectation or alarm was\nevident; on some, hope. Light was reflected in the whites of their\nupraised eyes; perspiration was flowing along their foreheads, pale as\nchalk; some were singing hymns, others were repeating feverishly the\nname of Jesus, some were beating their breasts. It was apparent that\nthey expected something uncommon at any moment.\n\nMeanwhile the hymn ceased, and above the assembly, in a niche formed by\nthe removal of an immense stone, appeared Crispus, the acquaintance\nof Vinicius, with a face as it were half delirious, pale, stern, and\nfanatical. All eyes were turned to him, as though waiting for words of\nconsolation and hope. After he had blessed the assembly, he began in\nhurried, almost shouting tones,--\n\n\"Bewail your sins, for the hour has come! Behold the Lord has sent down\ndestroying flames on Babylon, on the city of profligacy and crime. The\nhour of judgment has struck, the hour of wrath and dissolution. The Lord\nhas promised to come, and soon you will see Him. He will not come as the\nLamb, who offered His blood for your sins, but as an awful judge, who in\nHis justice will hurl sinners and unbelievers into the pit. Woe to the\nworld, woe to sinners! there will be no mercy for them. I see Thee, O\nChrist! Stars are falling to the earth in showers, the sun is darkened,\nthe earth opens in yawning gulfs, the dead rise from their graves, but\nThou art moving amid the sound of trumpets and legions of angels, amid\nthunders and lightnings. I see Thee, I hear Thee, O Christ!\"\n\nThen he was silent, and, raising his eyes, seemed to gaze into\nsomething distant and dreadful. That moment a dull roar was heard in the\ncave,--once, twice, a tenth time, in the burning city whole streets of\npartly consumed houses began to fall with a crash. But most Christians\ntook those sounds as a visible sign that the dreadful hour was\napproaching; belief in the early second coming of Christ and in the end\nof the world was universal among them, now the destruction of the city\nhad strengthened it. Terror seized the assembly. Many voices repeated,\n\"The day of judgment! Behold, it is coming!\" Some covered their faces\nwith their hands, believing that the earth would be shaken to its\nfoundation, that beasts of hell would rush out through its openings and\nhurl themselves on sinners. Others cried, \"Christ have mercy on us!\"\n\"Redeemer, be pitiful!\" Some confessed their sins aloud; others cast\nthemselves into the arms of friends, so as to have some near heart with\nthem in the hour of dismay.\n\nBut there were faces which seemed rapt into heaven, faces with smiles\nnot of earth; these showed no fear. In some places were heard voices;\nthose were of people who in religious excitement had begun to cry out\nunknown words in strange languages. Some person in a dark corner cried,\n\"Wake thou that sleepest!\" Above all rose the shout of Crispus, \"Watch\nye! watch ye!\"\n\nAt moments, however, silence came, as if all were holding the breath in\ntheir breasts, and waiting for what would come. And then was heard the\ndistant thunder of parts of the city falling into ruins, after which\nwere heard again groans and cries,--\"Renounce earthly riches, for soon\nthere will be no earth beneath your feet! Renounce earthly loves, for\nthe Lord will condemn those who love wife or child more than Him. Woe to\nthe one who loves the creature more than the Creator! Woe to the rich!\nwoe to the luxurious! woe to the dissolute! woe to husband, wife, and\nchild!\"\n\nSuddenly a roar louder than any which had preceded shook the quarry. All\nfell to the earth, stretching their arms in cross form to ward away\nevil spirits by that figure. Silence followed, in which was heard only\npanting breath, whispers full of terror, \"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!\" and\nin places the weeping of children. At that moment a certain calm voice\nspoke above that prostrate multitude,--\n\n\"Peace be with you!\"\n\nThat was the voice of Peter the Apostle, who had entered the cave a\nmoment earlier. At the sound of his voice terror passed at once, as it\npasses from a flock in which the shepherd has appeared. People rose from\nthe earth; those who were nearer gathered at his knees, as if seeking\nprotection under his wings. He stretched his hands over them and said,--\n\n\"Why are ye troubled in heart? Who of you can tell what will happen\nbefore the hour cometh? The Lord has punished Babylon with fire; but His\nmercy will be on those whom baptism has purified, and ye whose sins are\nredeemed by the blood of the Lamb will die with His name on your lips.\nPeace be with you!\"\n\nAfter the terrible and merciless words of Crispus, those of Peter fell\nlike a balm on all present. Instead of fear of God, the love of God took\npossession of their spirits. Those people found the Christ whom they\nhad learned to love from the Apostle's narratives; hence not a merciless\njudge, but a mild and patient Lamb, whose mercy surpasses man's\nwickedness a hundredfold. A feeling of solace possessed the whole\nassembly; and comfort, with thankfulness to the Apostle, filled their\nhearts, Voices from various sides began to cry, \"We are thy sheep, feed\nus!\" Those nearer said, \"Desert us not in the day of disaster!\" And they\nknelt at his knees; seeing which Vinicius approached, seized the edge of\nPeter's mantle, and, inclining, said,--\n\n\"Save me, lord. I have sought her in the smoke of the burning and in\nthe throng of people; nowhere could I find her, but I believe that thou\ncanst restore her.\"\n\nPeter placed his hand on the tribune's head.\n\n\"Have trust,\" said he, \"and come with me.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVI\n\n\nThe city burned on. The Circus Maximus had fallen in ruins. Entire\nstreets and alleys in parts which began to burn first were falling in\nturn. After every fall pillars of flame rose for a time to the very\nsky. The wind had changed, and blew now with mighty force from the sea,\nbearing toward the Cælian, the Esquiline, and the Viminal rivers of\nflame, brands, and cinders. Still the authorities provided for rescue.\nAt command of Tigellinus, who had hastened from Antium the third\nday before, houses on the Esquiline were torn down so that the fire,\nreaching empty spaces, died of itself. That was, however, undertaken\nsolely to save a remnant of the city; to save that which was burning\nwas not to be thought of. There was need also to guard against further\nresults of the ruin. Incalculable wealth had perished in Rome; all the\nproperty of its citizens had vanished; hundreds of thousands of people\nwere wandering in utter want outside the walls. Hunger had begun to\npinch this throng the second day, for the immense stores of provisions\nin the city had burned with it. In the universal disorder and in the\ndestruction of authority no one had thought of furnishing new supplies.\nOnly after the arrival of Tigellinus were proper orders sent to Ostia;\nbut meanwhile the people had grown more threatening.\n\nThe house at Aqua Appia, in which Tigellinus lodged for the moment,\nwas surrounded by crowds of women, who from morning till late at night\ncried, \"Bread and a roof!\" Vainly did pretorians, brought from the great\ncamp between the Via Salaria and the Nomentana, strive to maintain order\nof some kind. Here and there they were met by open, armed resistance. In\nplaces weaponless crowds pointed to the burning city, and shouted,\n\"Kill us in view of that fire!\" They abused Cæsar, the Augustians, the\npretorians; excitement rose every moment, so that Tigellinus, looking\nat night on the thousands of fires around the city, said to himself that\nthose were fires in hostile camps.\n\nBesides flour, as much baked bread as possible was brought at his\ncommand, not only from Ostia, but from all towns and neighboring\nvillages. When the first instalment came at night to the Emporium, the\npeople broke the chief gate toward the Aventine, seized all supplies in\nthe twinkle of an eye, and caused terrible disturbance. In the light of\nthe conflagration they fought for loaves, and trampled many of them into\nthe earth. Flour from torn bags whitened like snow the whole space from\nthe granary to the arches of Drusus and Germanicus. The uproar continued\ntill soldiers seized the building and dispersed the crowd with arrows\nand missiles.\n\nNever since the invasion by the Gauls under Brennus had Rome beheld such\ndisaster. People in despair compared the two conflagrations. But in the\ntime of Brennus the Capitol remained. Now the Capitol was encircled by a\ndreadful wreath of flame. The marbles, it is true, were not blazing;\nbut at night, when the wind swept the flames aside for a moment, rows\nof columns in the lofty sanctuary of Jove were visible, red as glowing\ncoals. In the days of Brennus, moreover, Rome had a disciplined integral\npeople, attached to the city and its altars; but now crowds of a\nmany-tongued populace roamed nomad-like around the walls of burning\nRome,--people composed for the greater part of slaves and freedmen,\nexcited, disorderly, and ready, under the pressure of want, to turn\nagainst authority and the city.\n\nBut the very immensity of the fire, which terrified every heart,\ndisarmed the crowd in a certain measure. After the fire might come\nfamine and disease; and to complete the misfortune the terrible heat\nof July had appeared. It was impossible to breathe air inflamed both by\nfire and the sun. Night brought no relief, on the contrary it presented\na hell. During daylight an awful and ominous spectacle met the eye. In\nthe centre a giant city on heights was turned into a roaring volcano;\nround about as far as the Alban Hills was one boundless camp, formed of\nsheds, tents, huts, vehicles, bales, packs, stands, fires, all covered\nwith smoke and dust, lighted by sun-rays reddened by passing through\nsmoke,--everything filled with roars, shouts, threats, hatred and\nterror, a monstrous swarm of men, women, and children. Mingled with\nQuirites were Greeks, shaggy men from the North with blue eyes,\nAfricans, and Asiatics; among citizens were slaves, freedmen,\ngladiators, merchants, mechanics, servants, and soldiers,--a real sea of\npeople, flowing around the island of fire.\n\nVarious reports moved this sea as wind does a real one. These reports\nwere favorable and unfavorable. People told of immense supplies of wheat\nand clothing to be brought to the Emporium and distributed gratis. It\nwas said, too, that provinces in Asia and Africa would be stripped of\ntheir wealth at Cæsar's command, and the treasures thus gained be\ngiven to the inhabitants of Rome, so that each man might build his own\ndwelling. But it was noised about also that water in the aqueducts had\nbeen poisoned; that Nero intended to annihilate the city, destroy the\ninhabitants to the last person, then move to Greece or to Egypt, and\nrule the world from a new place. Each report ran with lightning speed,\nand each found belief among the rabble, causing outbursts of hope,\nanger, terror, or rage. Finally a kind of fever mastered those nomadic\nthousands. The belief of Christians that the end of the world by fire\nwas at hand, spread even among adherents of the gods, and extended\ndaily. People fell into torpor or madness. In clouds lighted by the\nburning, gods were seen gazing down on the ruin; hands were stretched\ntoward those gods then to implore pity or send them curses.\n\nMeanwhile soldiers, aided by a certain number of inhabitants, continued\nto tear down houses on the Esquiline and the Cælian, as also in the\nTrans-Tiber; these divisions were saved therefore in considerable part.\nBut in the city itself were destroyed incalculable treasures accumulated\nthrough centuries of conquest; priceless works of art, splendid temples,\nthe most precious monuments of Rome's past, and Rome's glory. They\nforesaw that of all Rome there would remain barely a few parts on the\nedges, and that hundreds of thousands of people would be without a roof.\nSome spread reports that the soldiers were tearing down houses not to\nstop the fire, but to prevent any part of the city from being saved.\nTigellinus sent courier after courier to Antium, imploring Cæsar in each\nletter to come and calm the despairing people with his presence. But\nNero moved only when fire had seized the \"domus transitoria,\" and he\nhurried so as not to miss the moment in which the conflagration should\nbe at its highest.\n\nMeanwhile fire had reached the Via Nomentana, but turned from it at once\nwith a change of wind toward the Via Lata and the Tiber. It surrounded\nthe Capitol, spread along the Forum Boarium, destroyed everything which\nit had spared before, and approached the Palatine a second time.\n\nTigellinus, assembling all the pretorian forces, despatched courier\nafter courier to Cæsar with an announcement that he would lose nothing\nof the grandeur of the spectacle, for the fire had increased.\n\nBut Nero, who was on the road, wished to come at night, so as to sate\nhimself all the better with a view of the perishing capital. Therefore\nhe halted, in the neighborhood of Aqua Albana, and, summoning to his\ntent the tragedian Aliturus, decided with his aid on posture, look,\nand expression; learned fitting gestures, disputing with the actor\nstubbornly whether at the words \"O sacred city, which seemed more\nenduring than Ida,\" he was to raise both hands, or, holding in one the\nforminga, drop it by his side and raise only the other. This question\nseemed to him then more important than all others. Starting at last\nabout nightfall, he took counsel of Petronius also whether to the lines\ndescribing the catastrophe he might add a few magnificent blasphemies\nagainst the gods, and whether, considered from the standpoint of art,\nthey would not have rushed spontaneously from the mouth of a man in such\na position, a man who was losing his birthplace.\n\nAt length he approached the walls about midnight with his numerous\ncourt, composed of whole detachments of nobles, senators, knights,\nfreedmen, slaves, women, and children. Sixteen thousand pretorians,\narranged in line of battle along the road, guarded the peace and safety\nof his entrance, and held the excited populace at a proper distance. The\npeople cursed, shouted, and hissed on seeing the retinue, but dared not\nattack it. In many places, however, applause was given by the rabble,\nwhich, owning nothing, had lost nothing in the fire, and which hoped for\na more bountiful distribution than usual of wheat, olives, clothing, and\nmoney. Finally, shouts, hissing, and applause were drowned in the blare\nof horns and trumpets, which Tigellinus had caused to be sounded.\n\nNero, on arriving at the Ostian Gate, halted, and said, \"Houseless ruler\nof a houseless people, where shall I lay my unfortunate head for the\nnight?\"\n\nAfter he had passed the Clivus Delphini, he ascended the Appian aqueduct\non steps prepared purposely. After him followed the Augustians and a\nchoir of singers, bearing citharæ, lutes, and other musical instruments.\n\nAnd all held the breath in their breasts, waiting to learn if he would\nsay some great words, which for their own safety they ought to remember.\nBut he stood solemn, silent, in a purple mantle, and a wreath of golden\nlaurels, gazing at the raging might of the flames. When Terpnos gave\nhim a golden lute, he raised his eyes to the sky, filled with the\nconflagration, as if he were waiting for inspiration.\n\nThe people pointed at him from afar as he stood in the bloody gleam. In\nthe distance fiery serpents were hissing. The ancient and most sacred\nedifices were in flames: the temple of Hercules, reared by Evander, was\nburning; the temple of Jupiter Stator was burning, the temple of Luna,\nbuilt by Servius Tullius, the house of Numa Pompilius, the sanctuary of\nVesta with the penates of the Roman people; through waving flames the\nCapitol appeared at intervals; the past and the spirit of Rome was\nburning. But he, Cæsar, was there with a lute in his hand and a\ntheatrical expression on his face, not thinking of his perishing\ncountry, but of his posture and the prophetic words with which he might\ndescribe best the greatness of the catastrophe, rouse most admiration,\nand receive the warmest plaudits. He detested that city, he detested its\ninhabitants, beloved only his own songs and verses; hence he rejoiced in\nheart that at last he saw a tragedy like that which he was writing.\nThe verse-maker was happy, the declaimer felt inspired, the seeker for\nemotions was delighted at the awful sight, and thought with rapture\nthat even the destruction of Troy was as nothing if compared with the\ndestruction of that giant city. What more could he desire? There was\nworld-ruling Rome in flames, and he, standing on the arches of the\naqueduct with a golden lute, conspicuous, purple, admired, magnificent,\npoetic. Down below, somewhere in the darkness, the people are muttering\nand storming. But let them mutter! Ages will pass, thousands of years\nwill go by, but mankind will remember and glorify the poet, who in that\nnight sang the fall and the burning of Troy. What was Homer compared\nwith him? What Apollo himself with his hollowed-out lute?\n\nHere he raised his hands and, striking the strings, pronounced the words\nof Priam.\n\n\"O nest of my fathers, O dear cradle!\" His voice in the open air,\nwith the roar of the conflagration, and the distant murmur of crowding\nthousands, seemed marvellously weak, uncertain, and low, and the\nsound of the accompaniment like the buzzing of insects. But senators,\ndignitaries, and Augustians, assembled on the aqueduct, bowed their\nheads and listened in silent rapture. He sang long, and his motive was\never sadder. At moments, when he stopped to catch breath, the chorus of\nsingers repeated the last verse; then Nero cast the tragic \"syrma\" [A\nrobe with train, worn especially by tragic actors] from his shoulder\nwith a gesture learned from Aliturus, struck the lute, and sang on.\nWhen at last he had finished the lines composed, he improvised, seeking\ngrandiose comparisons in the spectacle unfolded before him. His face\nbegan to change. He was not moved, it is true, by the destruction of his\ncountry's capital; but he was delighted and moved with the pathos of his\nown words to such a degree that his eyes filled with tears on a sudden.\nAt last he dropped the lute to his feet with a clatter, and, wrapping\nhimself in the \"syrma,\" stood as if petrified, like one of those statues\nof Niobe which ornamented the courtyard of the Palatine.\n\nSoon a storm of applause broke the silence. But in the distance this was\nanswered by the howling of multitudes. No one doubted then that Cæsar\nhad given command to burn the city, so as to afford himself a spectacle\nand sing a song at it. Nero, when he heard that cry from hundreds of\nthousands, turned to the Augustians with the sad, resigned smile of a\nman who is suffering from injustice.\n\n\"See,\" said he, \"how the Quirites value poetry and me.\"\n\n\"Scoundrels!\" answered Vatinius. \"Command the pretorians, lord, to fall\non them.\"\n\nNero turned to Tigellinus,--\n\n\"Can I count on the loyalty of the soldiers?\"\n\n\"Yes, divinity,\" answered the prefect.\n\nBut Petronius shrugged his shoulders, and said,--\n\n\"On their loyalty, yes, but not on their numbers. Remain meanwhile\nwhere thou art, for here it is safest; but there is need to pacify the\npeople.\"\n\nSeneca was of this opinion also, as was Licinus the consul. Meanwhile\nthe excitement below was increasing. The people were arming with stones,\ntent-poles, sticks from the wagons, planks, and various pieces of iron.\nAfter a while some of the pretorian leaders came, declaring that the\ncohorts, pressed by the multitude, kept the line of battle with extreme\ndifficulty, and, being without orders to attack, they knew not what to\ndo.\n\n\"O gods,\" said Nero, \"what a night!\" On one side a fire, on the other\na raging sea of people. And he fell to seeking expressions the most\nsplendid to describe the danger of the moment, but, seeing around him\nalarmed looks and pale faces, he was frightened, with the others.\n\n\"Give me my dark mantle with a hood!\" cried he; \"must it come really to\nbattle?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Tigellinus, in an uncertain voice, \"I have done what I\ncould, but danger is threatening. Speak, O lord, to the people, and make\nthem promises.\"\n\n\"Shall Cæsar speak to the rabble? Let another do that in my name. Who\nwill undertake it?\"\n\n\"I!\" answered Petronius, calmly.\n\n\"Go, my friend; thou art most faithful to me in every necessity. Go, and\nspare no promises.\"\n\nPetronius turned to the retinue with a careless, sarcastic expression,--\n\n\"Senators here present, also Piso, Nerva, and Senecio, follow me.\"\n\nThen he descended the aqueduct slowly. Those whom he had summoned\nfollowed, not without hesitation, but with a certain confidence which\nhis calmness had given them. Petronius, halting at the foot of the\narches, gave command to bring him a white horse, and, mounting, rode on,\nat the head of the cavalcade, between the deep ranks of pretorians,\nto the black, howling multitude; he was unarmed, having only a slender\nivory cane which he carried habitually.\n\nWhen he had ridden up, he pushed his horse into the throng. All around,\nvisible in the light of the burning, were upraised hands, armed with\nevery manner of weapon, inflamed eyes, sweating faces, bellowing and\nfoaming lips. A mad sea of people surrounded him and his attendants;\nround about was a sea of heads, moving, roaring, dreadful.\n\nThe outbursts increased and became an unearthly roar; poles, forks,\nand even swords were brandished above Petronius; grasping hands were\nstretched toward his horse's reins and toward him, but he rode farther;\ncool, indifferent, contemptuous. At moments he struck the most insolent\nheads with his cane, as if clearing a road for himself in an ordinary\ncrowd; and that confidence of his, that calmness, amazed the raging\nrabble. They recognized him at length, and numerous voices began to\nshout,--\n\n\"Petronius! Arbiter Elegantiarum! Petronius! Petronius!\" was heard on\nall sides. And as that name was repeated, the faces about became less\nterrible, the uproar less savage: for that exquisite patrician, though\nhe had never striven for the favor of the populace, was still their\nfavorite. He passed for a humane and magnanimous man; and his popularity\nhad increased, especially since the affair of Pedanius Secundus, when\nhe spoke in favor of mitigating the cruel sentence condemning all the\nslaves of that prefect to death. The slaves more especially loved\nhim thenceforward with that unbounded love which the oppressed or\nunfortunate are accustomed to give those who show them even small\nsympathy. Besides, in that moment was added curiosity as to what Cæsar's\nenvoy would say, for no one doubted that Cæsar had sent him.\n\nHe removed his white toga, bordered with scarlet, raised it in the air,\nand waved it above his head, in sign that he wished to speak.\n\n\"Silence! Silence!\" cried the people on all sides.\n\nAfter a while there was silence. Then he straightened himself on the\nhorse and said in a clear, firm voice,--\n\n\"Citizens, let those who hear me repeat my words to those who are more\ndistant, and bear yourselves, all of you, like men, not like beasts in\nthe arena.\"\n\n\"We will, we will!\"\n\n\"Then listen. The city will be rebuilt. The gardens of Lucullus,\nMæcenas, Cæsar, and Agrippina will be opened to you. To-morrow will\nbegin the distribution of wheat, wine, and olives, so that every man may\nbe full to the throat. Then Cæsar will have games for you, such as the\nworld has not seen yet; during these games banquets and gifts will be\ngiven you. Ye will be richer after the fire than before it.\"\n\nA murmur answered him which spread from the centre in every direction,\nas a wave rises on water in which a stone has been cast. Those nearer\nrepeated his words to those more distant. Afterward were heard here\nand there shouts of anger or applause, which turned at length into one\nuniversal call of \"Panem et circenses!!!\"\n\nPetronius wrapped himself in his toga and listened for a time without\nmoving, resembling in his white garment a marble statue. The uproar\nincreased, drowned the roar of the fire, was answered from every\nside and from ever-increasing distances. But evidently the envoy had\nsomething to add, for he waited. Finally, commanding silence anew, he\ncried,--\"I promised you panem et circenses; and now give a shout in\nhonor of Cæsar, who feeds and clothes you; then go to sleep, dear\npopulace, for the dawn will begin before long.\"\n\nHe turned his horse then, and, tapping lightly with his cane the heads\nand faces of those who stood in his way, he rode slowly to the pretorian\nranks. Soon he was under the aqueduct. He found almost a panic above,\nwhere they had not understood the shout \"Panem et circenses,\" and\nsupposed it to be a new outburst of rage. They had not even expected\nthat Petronius would save himself; so Nero, when he saw him, ran to the\nsteps, and with face pale from emotion, inquired,--\n\n\"Well, what are they doing? Is there a battle?\"\n\nPetronius drew air into his lungs, breathed deeply, and answered,--\"By\nPollux! they are sweating! and such a stench! Will some one give me an\nepilimma?--for I am faint.\" Then he turned to Cæsar.\n\n\"I promised them,\" said he, \"wheat, olives, the opening of the gardens,\nand games. They worship thee anew, and are howling in thy honor. Gods,\nwhat a foul odor those plebeians have!\"\n\n\"I had pretorians ready,\" cried Tigellinus; \"and hadst thou not quieted\nthem, the shouters would have been silenced forever. It is a pity,\nCæsar, that thou didst not let me use force.\"\n\nPetronius looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and added,--\n\n\"The chance is not lost. Thou mayst have to use it to-morrow.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" cried Cæsar, \"I will give command to open the gardens to them,\nand distribute wheat. Thanks to thee, Petronius, I will have games; and\nthat song, which I sang to-day, I will sing publicly.\"\n\nThen he placed his hands on the arbiter's shoulder, was silent a moment,\nand starting up at last inquired,--\n\n\"Tell me sincerely, how did I seem to thee while I was singing?\"\n\n\"Thou wert worthy of the spectacle, and the spectacle was worthy of\nthee,\" said Petronius.\n\n\"But let us look at it again,\" said he, turning to the fire, \"and bid\nfarewell to ancient Rome.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVII\n\n\nTHE Apostle's words put confidence in the souls of the Christians. The\nend of the world seemed ever near to them, but they began to think that\nthe day of judgment would not come immediately, that first they would\nsee the end of Nero's reign, which they looked on as the reign of Satan,\nand the punishment of God for Cæsar's crimes, which were crying for\nvengeance. Strengthened in heart, they dispersed, after the prayer, to\ntheir temporary dwellings, and even to the Trans-Tiber; for news had\ncome that the fire, set there in a number of places, had, with the\nchange of wind, turned back toward the river, and, after devouring what\nit could here and there, had ceased to extend.\n\nThe Apostle, with Vinicius and Chilo, who followed him, left the\nexcavation also. The young tribune did not venture to interrupt his\nprayers; hence he walked on in silence, merely imploring pity with his\neyes, and trembling from alarm. Many approached to kiss Peter's hands,\nand the hem of his mantle; mothers held out their children to him;\nsome knelt in the dark, long passage, and, holding up tapers, begged\na blessing; others, going alongside, sang: so there was no chance for\nquestion or answer. Thus it was in the narrow passage. Only when they\ncame out to broader spaces, from which the burning city was in view, did\nthe Apostle bless them three times, and say, turning to Vinicius,--\n\n\"Fear not. The hut of the quarryman is near; in it we shall find Linus,\nand Lygia, with her faithful servant. Christ, who predestined her to\nthee, has preserved her.\"\n\nVinicius tottered, and placed his hand against the cliff. The road from\nAntium, the events at the wall, the search for Lygia amidst burning\nhouses, sleeplessness, and his terrible alarm had exhausted him; and the\nnews that the dearest person in the world was near by, and that soon\nhe would see her, took the remnant of his strength from him. So great\na weakness possessed him on a sudden that he dropped to the Apostle's\nfeet, and, embracing his knees, remained thus, without power to say a\nword.\n\n\"Not to me, not to me, but to Christ,\" said the Apostle, who warded off\nthanks and honor.\n\n\"What a good God!\" said the voice of Chilo from behind, \"but what shall\nI do with the mules that are waiting down here?\"\n\n\"Rise and come with me,\" said Peter to the young man.\n\nVinicius rose. By the light of the burning, tears were visible on his\nface, which was pale from emotion. His lips moved, as if in prayer.\n\n\"Let us go,\" said he.\n\nBut Chilo repeated again: \"Lord, what shall I do with the mules that are\nwaiting? Perhaps this worthy prophet prefers riding to walking.\"\n\nVinicius did not know himself what to answer; but hearing from Peter\nthat the quarryman's hut was near by, he said,--\n\n\"Take the mules to Macrinus.\"\n\n\"Pardon me, lord, if I mention the house in Ameriola. In view of such an\nawful fire, it is easy to forget a thing so paltry.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt get it.\"\n\n\"O grandson of Numa Pompilius, I have always been sure, but now, when\nthis magnanimous prophet also has heard the promise, I will not remind\nthee even of this, that thou hast promised me a vineyard. Pax vobiscum.\nI shall find thee, lord. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nThey answered, \"And peace with thee.\"\n\nThen both turned to the right toward the hills. Along the road Vinicius\nsaid,\n\n\"Lord, wash me with the water of baptism, so that I may call myself a\nreal confessor of Christ, for I love Him with all the power of my soul.\nWash me quickly, for I am ready in heart. And what thou commandest I\nwill do, but tell me, so that I may do it in addition.\"\n\n\"Love men as thy own brothers,\" answered the Apostle, \"for only with\nlove mayst thou serve Him.\"\n\n\"Yes, I understand and feel that. When a child I believed in the Roman\ngods, though I did not love them. But I so love Him the One God that\nI would give my life for Him gladly.\" And he looked toward the sky,\nrepeating with exaltation: \"For He is one, for He alone is kind and\nmerciful; hence, let not only this city perish, but the whole world, Him\nalone will I confess and recognize.\"\n\n\"And He will bless thee and thy house,\" concluded the Apostle.\n\nMeanwhile they turned into another ravine, at the end of which a faint\nlight was visible. Peter pointed to it and said,--\n\n\"There is the hut of the quarryman who gave us a refuge when, on the way\nfrom Ostrianum with the sick Linus, we could not go to the Trans-Tiber.\"\n\nAfter a while they arrived. The hut was rather a cave rounded Out in\nan indentation of the hill, and was faced outside with a wall made of\nreeds. The door was closed, but through an opening, which served for\na window, the interior was visible, lighted by a fire. Some dark giant\nfigure rose up to meet them, and inquired,--\"Who are ye?\"\n\n\"Servants of Christ,\" answered Peter. \"Peace be with thee, Ursus.\"\n\nUrsus bent to the Apostle's feet; then, recognizing Vinicius, seized his\nhand by the wrist, and raised it to his lips.\n\n\"And thou, lord,\" said he. \"Blessed be the name of the Lamb, for the joy\nwhich thou wilt bring to Callina.\"\n\nHe opened the door then, and entered. Linus was lying on a bundle of\nstraw, with an emaciated face and a forehead as yellow as ivory. Near\nthe fire sat Lygia with a string of small fish, intended evidently for\nsupper. Occupied in removing the fish from the string, and thinking that\nit was Ursus who had entered, she did not raise her eyes. But Vinicius\napproached, and, pronouncing her name, stretched his hand to her. She\nsprang up quickly then; a flash of astonishment and delight shot across\nher face. Without a word, like a child who after days of fear and sorrow\nhad found father or mother, she threw herself into his open arms.\n\nHe embraced her, pressed her to his bosom for some time with such\necstasy as if she had been saved by a miracle. Then, withdrawing his\narms, he took her temples between his hands, kissed her forehead and her\neyes, embraced her again, repeated her name, bent to her knees, to her\npalms, greeted her, did her homage, honored her. His delight had no\nbounds; neither had his love and happiness.\n\nAt last he told her how he had rushed in from Antium; had searched\nfor her at the walls, in the smoke at the house of Linus; how he had\nsuffered and was terrified; how much he had endured before the Apostle\nhad shown him her retreat.\n\n\"But now,\" said he, \"that I have found thee, I will not leave thee near\nfire and raging crowds. People are slaying one another under the walls,\nslaves are revolting and plundering. God alone knows what miseries may\nfall yet on Rome. But I will save thee and all of you. Oh, my dear, let\nus go to Antium; we will take a ship there and sail to Sicily. My land\nis thy land, my houses are thy houses. Listen to me! In Sicily we shall\nfind Aulus. I will give thee back to Pomponia, and take thee from her\nhands afterward. But, O carissima, have no further fear of me. Christ\nhas not washed me yet, but ask Peter if on the way hither I have not\ntold him my wish to be a real confessor of Christ, and begged him\nto baptize me, even in this hut of a quarryman. Believe, and let all\nbelieve me.\"\n\nLygia heard these words with radiant face. The Christians formerly,\nbecause of Jewish persecutions, and then because of the fire and\ndisturbance caused by the disaster, lived in fear and uncertainty. A\njourney to quiet Sicily would put an end to all danger, and open a new\nepoch of happiness in their lives. If Vinicius had wished to take only\nLygia, she would have resisted the temptation surely, as she did not\nwish to leave Peter and Linus; but Vinicius said to them, \"Come with me;\nmy lands are your lands, my houses your houses.\" At this Lygia inclined\nto kiss his hand, in sign of obedience, and said,--\n\n\"Where thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.\"\n\nThen confused that she had spoken words which by Roman custom were\nrepeated only at marriage, she blushed deeply, and stood in the light\nof the fire, with drooping head, in doubt lest he might take them ill of\nher. But in his face boundless homage alone was depicted. He turned then\nto Peter, and continued,--\n\n\"Rome is burning at command of Cæsar. In Antium he complained that\nhe had never seen a great fire. And if he has not hesitated at such a\ncrime, think what may happen yet. Who knows that he may not bring in\ntroops, and command a slaughter? Who knows what proscriptions may come;\nwho knows whether after the fire, civil war, murder, and famine may not\ncome?\n\n\"Hide yourselves, therefore, and let us hide Lygia. There ye can wait\ntill the storm passes, and when it is over return to sow your grain\nanew.\"\n\nOutside, from the direction of the Vatican Field, as if to confirm his\nfears, distant cries were heard full of rage and terror. At that moment\nthe quarryman entered, the master of the hut, and, shutting the door\nhastily, he cried,--\n\n\"People are killing one another near the Circus of Nero. Slaves and\ngladiators have attacked the citizens.\"\n\n\"Do ye hear?\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"The measure is full,\" said the Apostle; \"and disasters will come, like\na boundless sea.\" Then he turned, and, pointing to Lygia, said, \"Take\nthe maiden, whom God has predestined to thee, and save her, and let\nLinus, who is sick, and Ursus go with you.\"\n\nBut Vinicius, who had come to love the Apostle with all the power of his\nimpetuous soul, exclaimed: \"I swear, my teacher, that I will not leave\nthee here to destruction.\"\n\n\"The Lord bless thee for thy wish,\" answered Peter; \"but hast thou not\nheard that Christ repeated thrice on the lake to me, 'Feed my lambs'?\"\n\nVinicius was silent.\n\n\"If thou, to whom no one has confided care over me, sayest that thou\nwilt not leave me to destruction, how canst thou wish me to leave my\nflock in the day of disaster? When there was a storm on the lake, and we\nwere terrified in heart, He did not desert us; why should I, a servant,\nnot follow my Master's example?\"\n\nThen Linus raised his emaciated face and inquired,--\n\n\"O viceregent of the Lord, why should I not follow thy example?\"\n\nVinicius began to pass his hand over his head, as if struggling with\nhimself or fighting with his thoughts; then, seizing Lygia by the\nhand, he said, in a voice in which the energy of a Roman soldier was\nquivering,--\n\n\"Hear me, Peter, Linus, and thou, Lygia! I spoke as my human reason\ndictated; but ye have another reason, which regards, not your own\ndanger, but the commands of the Redeemer. True, I did not understand\nthis, and I erred, for the beam is not taken from my eyes yet, and the\nformer nature is heard in me. But since I love Christ, and wish to be\nHis servant, though it is a question for me of something more than my\nown life, I kneel here before thee, and swear that I will accomplish the\ncommand of love, and will not leave my brethren in the day of trouble.\"\n\nThen he knelt, and enthusiasm possessed him; raising his hands and eyes,\nhe cried: \"Do I understand Thee, O Christ? Am I worthy of Thee?\"\n\nHis hands trembled; his eyes glistened with tears; his body trembled\nwith faith and love. Peter took an earthen vessel with water, and,\nbringing it near him, said with solemnity,--\n\n\"Behold, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\nAmen.\"\n\nThen a religious ecstasy seized all present. They thought that some\nlight from beyond this world had filled the hut, that they heard some\nsuperhuman music, that the cliffs had opened above their heads, that\nchoirs of angels were floating down from heaven, and far up there they\nsaw a cross, and pierced hands blessing them.\n\nMeanwhile the shouts of fighting were heard outside, and the roar of\nflames in the burning city.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVIII\n\n\nCAMPS of people were disposed in the lordly gardens of Cæsar, formerly\ngardens of Domitius and Agrippina; they were disposed also on the Campus\nMartius, in the gardens of Pompey, Sallust, and Mæcenas, in porticos,\ntennis-courts, splendid summer-houses, and buildings erected for wild\nbeasts. Peacocks, flamingoes, swans, ostriches, gazelles, African\nantelopes, and deer, which had served as ornaments to those gardens,\nwent under the knives of the rabble. Provisions began to come in now\nfrom Ostria so abundantly that one might walk, as on a bridge, over\nships, boats, and barges from one bank of the Tiber to the other. Wheat\nwas sold at the unheard-of low price of three sestertia, and was given\ngratis to the indigent. Immense supplies of wine, olives, and chestnuts\nwere brought to the city; sheep and cattle were driven in every day from\nthe mountains. Wretches who before the fire had been hiding in alleys of\nthe Subura, and were perishing of hunger in ordinary times, had a more\npleasant life now. The danger of famine was averted completely, but it\nwas more difficult to suppress robbery, murder, and abuses. A nomadic\nlife insured impunity to thieves; the more easily since they proclaimed\nthemselves admirers of Cæsar, and were unsparing of plaudits wherever\nhe appeared. Moreover, when, by the pressure of events, the authorities\nwere in abeyance, and there was a lack of armed force to quell insolence\nin a city inhabited by the dregs of contemporary mankind, deeds were\ndone which passed human imagination. Every night there were battles and\nmurders; every night boys and women were snatched away. At the Porta\nMugionis, where there was a halting-place for herds driven in from the\nCampania, it come to engagements in which people perished by hundreds.\nEvery morning the banks of the Tiber were covered with drowned bodies,\nwhich no one collected; these decayed quickly because of heat heightened\nby fire, and filled the air with foul odors. Sickness broke out on the\ncamping-grounds, and the more timorous foresaw a great pestilence.\n\nBut the city burned on unceasingly. Only on the sixth day, when the\nfire reached empty spaces on the Esquiline, where an enormous number of\nhouses had been demolished purposely, did it weaken. But the piles of\nburning cinders gave such strong light yet that people would not believe\nthat the end of the catastrophe had come. In fact the fire burst forth\nwith fresh force on the seventh night in the buildings of Tigellinus,\nbut had short duration for lack of fuel. Burnt houses, however, fell\nhere and there, and threw up towers of flame and pillars of sparks. But\nthe glowing ruins began to grow black on the surface. After sunset the\nheavens ceased to gleam with bloody light, and only after dark did blue\ntongues quiver above the extended black waste, tongues which rose from\npiles of cinders.\n\nOf the fourteen divisions of Rome there remained only four, including\nthe Trans-Tiber. Flames had consumed all the others. When at last\nthe piles of cinders had been turned into ashes, an immense space was\nvisible from the Tiber to the Esquiline, gray, gloomy, dead. In this\nspace stood rows of chimneys, like columns over graves in a cemetery.\nAmong these columns gloomy crowds of people moved about in the daytime,\nsome seeking for precious objects, others for the bones of those dear\nto them. In the night dogs howled above the ashes and ruins of former\ndwellings.\n\nAll the bounty and aid shown by Cæsar to the populace did not restrain\nevil speech and indignation. Only the herd of robbers, criminals, and\nhomeless ruffians, who could eat, drink, and rob enough, were contented.\nPeople who had lost all their property and their nearest relatives were\nnot won over by the opening of gardens, the distribution of bread, or\nthe promise of games and gifts. The catastrophe had been too great and\nunparalleled. Others, in whom was hidden yet some spark of love for the\ncity and their birthplace, were brought to despair by news that the old\nname \"Roma\" was to vanish, and that from the ashes of the capital Cæsar\nwould erect a new city called Neropolis. A flood of hatred rose and\nswelled every day, despite the flatteries of the Augustians and the\ncalumnies of Tigellinus. Nero, more sensitive than any former Cæsar to\nthe favor of the populace, thought with alarm that in the sullen and\nmortal struggle which he was waging with patricians in the Senate, he\nmight lack support. The Augustians themselves were not less alarmed,\nfor any morning might bring them destruction. Tigellinus thought of\nsummoning certain legions from Asia Minor. Vatinius, who laughed even\nwhen slapped on the face, lost his humor; Vitelius lost his appetite.\n\nOthers were taking counsel among themselves how to avert the danger, for\nit was no secret that were an outburst to carry off Cæsar, not one\nof the Augustians would escape, except, perhaps, Petronius. To their\ninfluence were ascribed the madnesses of Nero, to their suggestions all\nthe crimes which he committed. Hatred for them almost surpassed that\nfor Nero. Hence some began to make efforts to rid themselves of\nresponsibility for the burning of the city. But to free themselves they\nmust clear Cæsar also from suspicion, or no one would believe that they\nhad not caused the catastrophe. Tigellinus took counsel on this subject\nwith Domitius Afer, and even with Seneca, though he hated him. Poppæa,\nwho understood that the ruin of Nero would be her own sentence, took\nthe opinion of her confidants and of Hebrew priests, for it had been\nadmitted for years that she held the faith of Jehovah. Nero found his\nown methods, which, frequently terrible, were more frequently foolish,\nand fell now into terror, now into childish delight, but above all he\ncomplained.\n\nOn a time a long and fruitless consultation was held in the house of\nTiberius, which had survived the fire. Petronius thought it best to\nleave troubles, go to Greece, thence to Egypt and Asia Minor. The\njourney had been planned long before; why defer it, when in Rome were\nsadness and danger?\n\nCæsar accepted the counsel with eagerness; but Seneca when he had\nthought awhile, said,--\n\n\"It is easy to go, but it would be more difficult to return.\"\n\n\"By Heracles!\" replied Petronius, \"we may return at the head of Asiatic\nlegions.\"\n\n\"This will I do!\" exclaimed Nero.\n\nBut Tigellinus opposed. He could discover nothing himself, and if the\narbiter's idea had come to his own head he would beyond doubt have\ndeclared it the saving one; but with him the question was that Petronius\nmight not be a second time the only man who in difficult moments could\nrescue all and every one.\n\n\"Hear me, divinity,\" said he, \"this advice is destructive! Before\nthou art at Ostia a civil war will break out; who knows but one of the\nsurviving collateral descendants of the divine Augustus will declare\nhimself Cæsar, and what shall we do if the legions take his side?\"\n\n\"We shall try,\" answered Nero, \"that there be no descendants of\nAugustus. There are not many now; hence it is easy to rid ourselves of\nthem.\"\n\n\"It is possible to do so, but is it a question of them alone? No longer\nago than yesterday my people heard in the crowd that a man like Thrasea\nshould be Cæsar.\"\n\nNero bit his lips. After a while he raised his eyes and said:\n\"Insatiable and thankless. They have grain enough, and they have coal on\nwhich to bake cakes; what more do they want?\"\n\n\"Vengeance!\" replied Tigellinus.\n\nSilence followed. Cæsar rose on a sudden, extended his hand, and began\nto declaim,--\n\n\"Hearts call for vengeance, and vengeance wants a victim.\" Then,\nforgetting everything, he said, with radiant face: \"Give me the tablet\nand stilus to write this line. Never could Lucan have composed the like.\nHave ye noticed that I found it in a twinkle?\"\n\n\"O incomparable!\" exclaimed a number of voices. Nero wrote down the\nline, and said,--\n\n\"Yes, vengeance wants a victim.\" Then he cast a glance on those around\nhim. \"But if we spread the report that Vatinius gave command to burn the\ncity, and devote him to the anger of the people?\"\n\n\"O divinity! Who am I?\" exclaimed Vatmius.\n\n\"True! One more important than thou is demanded. Is it Vitelius?\"\n\nVitelius grew pale, but began to laugh.\n\n\"My fat,\" answered he, \"might start the fire again.\"\n\nBut Nero had something else on his mind; in his soul he was looking for\na victim who might really satisfy the people's anger, and he found him.\n\n\"Tigellinus,\" said he after a while, \"it was thou who didst burn Rome!\"\nA shiver ran through those present. They understood that Cæsar had\nceased to jest this time, and that a moment had come which was pregnant\nwith events.\n\nThe face of Tigellinus was wrinkled, like the lips of a dog about to\nbite.\n\n\"I burnt Rome at thy command!\" said he.\n\nAnd the two glared at each other like a pair of devils. Such silence\nfollowed that the buzzing of flies was heard as they flew through the\natrium.\n\n\"Tigellinus,\" said Nero, \"dost thou love me?\"\n\n\"Thou knowest, lord.\"\n\n\"Sacrifice thyself for me.\"\n\n\"O divine Cæsar,\" answered Tigellinus, \"why present the sweet cup which\nI may not raise to my lips? The people are muttering and rising; dost\nthou wish the pretorians also to rise?\"\n\nA feeling of terror pressed the hearts of those present. Tigellinus was\npretorian prefect, and his words had the direct meaning of a threat.\nNero himself understood this, and his face became pallid.\n\nAt that moment Epaphroditus, Cæsar's freedman, entered, announcing that\nthe divine Augusta wished to see Tigellinus, as there were people in her\napartments whom the prefect ought to hear.\n\nTigellinus bowed to Cæsar, and went out with a face calm and\ncontemptuous. Now, when they had wished to strike him, he had shown\nhis teeth; he had made them understand who he was, and, knowing Nero's\ncowardice, he was confident that that ruler of the world would never\ndare to raise a hand against him.\n\nNero sat in silence for a moment; then, seeing that those present\nexpected some answer, he said,--\n\n\"I have reared a serpent in my bosom.\"\n\nPetronius shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that it was not difficult\nto pluck the head from such a serpent.\n\n\"What wilt thou say? Speak, advise!\" exclaimed Nero, noticing this\nmotion. \"I trust in thee alone, for thou hast more sense than all of\nthem, and thou lovest me.\"\n\nPetronius had the following on his lips: \"Make me pretorian prefect, I\nwill deliver Tigellinus to the people, and pacify the city in a day.\"\nBut his innate slothfulness prevailed. To be prefect meant to bear on\nhis shoulder's Cæsar's person and also thousands of public affairs. And\nwhy should he perform that labor? Was it not better to read poetry in\nhis splendid library, look at vases and statues, or hold to his breast\nthe divine body of Eunice, twining her golden hair through his fingers,\nand inclining his lips to her coral mouth? Hence he said,--\n\n\"I advise the journey to Achæa.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" answered Nero, \"I looked for something more from thee. The Senate\nhates me. If I depart, who will guarantee that it will not revolt and\nproclaim some one else Cæsar? The people have been faithful to me so\nfar, but now they will follow the Senate. By Hades! if that Senate and\nthat people had one head!--\"\n\n\"Permit me to say, O divinity, that if thou desire to save Rome, there\nis need to save even a few Romans,\" remarked Petronius, with a smile.\n\n\"What care I for Rome and Romans?\" complained Nero. \"I should be obeyed\nin Achæa. Here only treason surrounds me. All desert me, and ye are\nmaking ready for treason. I know it, I know it. Ye do not even imagine\nwhat future ages will say of you if ye desert such an artist as I am.\"\n\nHere he tapped his forehead on a sudden, and cried,--\n\n\"True! Amid these cares even I forget who I am.\"\n\nThen he turned to Petronius with a radiant face.\n\n\"Petronius,\" said he, \"the people murmur; but if I take my lute and go\nto the Campus Martius, if I sing that song to them which I sang during\nthe conflagration, dost thou not think that I will move them, as Orpheus\nmoved wild beasts?\"\n\nTo this Tullius Senecio, who was impatient to return to his slave\nwomen brought in from Antium, and who had been impatient a long time,\nreplied,--\n\n\"Beyond doubt, O Cæsar, if they permit thee to begin.\"\n\n\"Let us go to Hellas!\" cried Nero, with disgust.\n\nBut at that moment Poppæa appeared, and with her Tigellinis. The eyes\nof those present turned to him unconsciously, for never had triumphator\nascended the Capitol with pride such as his when he stood before Cæsar.\nHe began to speak slowly and with emphasis, in tones through which the\nbite of iron, as it were, was heard,--\n\n\"Listen. O Cæsar, for I can say: I have found! The people want\nvengeance, they want not one victim, but hundreds, thousands. Hast\nheard, lord, who Christos was,--he who was crucified by Pontius Pilate?\nAnd knowest thou who the Christians are? Have I not told thee of their\ncrimes and foul ceremonies, of their predictions that fire would cause\nthe end of the world? People hate and suspect them. No one has seen them\nin a temple at any time, for they consider our gods evil spirits; they\nare not in the Stadium, for they despise horse races. Never have the\nhands of a Christian done thee honor with plaudits. Never has one of\nthem recognized thee as god. They are enemies of the human race, of the\ncity, and of thee. The people murmur against thee; but thou hast given\nme no command to burn Rome, and I did not burn it. The people want\nvengeance; let them have it. The people want blood and games; let them\nhave them. The people suspect thee; let their suspicion turn in another\ndirection.\"\n\nNero listened with amazement at first; but as Tigellinus proceeded, his\nactor's face changed, and assumed in succession expressions of anger,\nsorrow, sympathy, indignation. Suddenly he rose, and, casting off the\ntoga, which dropped at his feet, he raised both hands and stood silent\nfor a time. At last he said, in the tones of a tragedian,--\n\n\"O Zeus, Apollo, Here, Athene, Persephone, and all ye immortals! why did\nye not come to aid us? What has this hapless city done to those cruel\nwretches that they burnt it so inhumanly?\"\n\n\"They are enemies of mankind and of thee,\" said Poppæa.\n\n\"Do justice!\" cried others. \"Punish the incendiaries! The gods\nthemselves call for vengeance!\"\n\nNero sat down, dropped his head to his breast, and was silent a second\ntime, as if stunned by the wickedness of which he had heard. But after a\nwhile he shook his hands, and said,--\n\n\"What punishments, what tortures befit such a crime? But the gods will\ninspire me, and, aided by the powers of Tartarus, I will give my\npoor people such a spectacle that they will remember me for ages with\ngratitude.\"\n\nThe forehead of Petronius was covered with a sudden cloud. He thought of\nthe danger hanging over Lygia and over Vinicius, whom he loved, and over\nall those people whose religion he rejected, but of whose innocence he\nwas certain. He thought also that one of those bloody orgies would begin\nwhich his eyes, those of an æsthetic man, could not suffer. But above\nall he thought: \"I must save Vinicius, who will go mad if that maiden\nperishes\"; and this consideration outweighed every other, for Petronius\nunderstood well that he was beginning a game far more perilous than any\nin his life. He began, however, to speak freely and carelessly, as\nhis wont was when criticising or ridiculing plans of Cæsar and the\nAugustians that were not sufficiently æsthetic,--\n\n\"Ye have found victims! That is true. Ye may send them to the arena, or\narray them in 'painful tunics.' That is true also. But hear me! Ye have\nauthority, ye have pretorians, ye have power; then be sincere, at\nleast, when no one is listening! Deceive the people, but deceive not\none another. Give the Christians to the populace, condemn them to any\ntorture ye like; but have courage to say to yourselves that it was not\nthey who burnt Rome. Phy! Ye call me 'arbiter elegantiarum'; hence I\ndeclare to you that I cannot endure wretched comedies! Phy! how all this\nreminds me of the theatrical booths near the Porta Asinaria, in which\nactors play the parts of gods and kings to amuse the suburban rabble,\nand when the play is over wash down onions with sour wine, or get blows\nof clubs! Be gods and kings in reality; for I say that ye can permit\nyourselves the position! As to thee, O Cæsar, thou hast threatened\nus with the sentence of coming ages; but think, those ages will utter\njudgment concerning thee also. By the divine Clio! Nero, ruler of the\nworld, Nero, a god, burnt Rome, because he was as powerful on earth as\nZeus on Olympus,--Nero the poet loved poetry so much that he sacrificed\nto it his country! From the beginning of the world no one did the\nlike, no one ventured on the like. I beseech thee in the name of the\ndouble-crowned Libethrides, renounce not such glory, for songs of thee\nwill sound to the end of ages! What will Priam be when compared with\nthee; what Agamenmon; what Achilles; what the gods themselves? We need\nnot say that the burning of Rome was good, but it was colossal and\nuncommon. I tell thee, besides, that the people will raise no hand\nagainst thee! It is not true that they will. Have courage; guard thyself\nagainst acts unworthy of thee,--for this alone threatens thee, that\nfuture ages may say, 'Nero burned Rome; but as a timid Cæsar and a timid\npoet he denied the great deed out of fear, and cast the blame of it on\nthe innocent!'\"\n\nThe arbiter's words produced the usual deep impression on Nero; but\nPetronius was not deceived as to this, that what he had said was a\ndesperate means which in a fortunate event might save the Christians,\nit is true, but might still more easily destroy himself. He had not\nhesitated, however, for it was a question at once of Vinicius whom\nhe loved, and of hazard with which he amused himself. \"The dice are\nthrown,\" said he to himself, \"and we shall see how far fear for his own\nlife outweighs in the monkey his love of glory.\"\n\nAnd in his soul he had no doubt that fear would outweigh.\n\nMeanwhile silence fell after his words. Poppæa and all present were\nlooking at Nero's eyes as at a rainbow. He began to raise his lips,\ndrawing them to his very nostrils, as was his custom when he knew not\nwhat to do; at last disgust and trouble were evident on his features.\n\n\"Lord,\" cried Tigellinus, on noting this, \"permit me to go; for when\npeople wish to expose thy person to destruction, and call thee, besides,\na cowardly Cæsar, a cowardly poet, an incendiary, and a comedian, my\nears cannot suffer such expressions!\"\n\n\"I have lost,\" thought Petronius. But turning to Tigellinus, he measured\nhim with a glance in which was that contempt for a ruffian which is felt\nby a great lord who is an exquisite.\n\n\"Tigellinus,\" said he, \"it was thou whom I called a comedian; for thou\nart one at this very moment.\"\n\n\"Is it because I will not listen to thy insults?\"\n\n\"It is because thou art feigning boundless love for Cæsar,--thou who\na short while since wert threatening him with pretorians, which we all\nunderstood as did he!\"\n\nTigellinus, who had not thought Petronius sufficiently daring to throw\ndice such as those on the table, turned pale, lost his head, and was\nspeechless. This was, however, the last victory of the arbiter over his\nrival, for that moment Poppæa said,--\n\n\"Lord, how permit that such a thought should even pass through the head\nof any one, and all the more that any one should venture to express it\naloud in thy presence!\"\n\n\"Punish the insolent!\" exclaimed Vitelius.\n\nNero raised his lips again to his nostrils, and, turning his\nnear-sighted, glassy eyes on Petronius, said,--\n\n\"Is this the way thou payest me for the friendship which I had for\nthee?\"\n\n\"If I am mistaken, show me my error,\" said Petronius; \"but know that I\nspeak that which love for thee dictates.\"\n\n\"Punish the insolent!\" repeated Vitelius.\n\n\"Punish!\" called a number of voices.\n\nIn the atrium there was a murmur and a movement, for people began to\nwithdraw from Petronius. Even Tullius Senecio, his constant companion at\nthe court, pushed away, as did young Nerva, who had shown him hitherto\nthe greatest friendship. After a while Petronius was alone on the left\nside of the atrium, with a smile on his lips; and gathering with his\nhands the folds of his toga, he waited yet for what Cæsar would say or\ndo.\n\n\"Ye wish me to punish him\" said Cæsar; \"but he is my friend and comrade.\nThough he has wounded my heart, let him know that for friends this heart\nhas naught but forgiveness.\"\n\n\"I have lost, and am ruined,\" thought Petronius.\n\nMeanwhile Cæsar rose, and the consultation was ended.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIX\n\n\nPETRONIUS went home. Nero and Tigellinus went to Poppæa's atrium, where\nthey were expected by people with whom the prefect had spoken already.\n\nThere were two Trans-Tiber rabbis in long solemn robes and mitred, a\nyoung copyist, their assistant, together with Chilo. At sight of Cæsar\nthe priests grew pale from emotion, and, raising their hands an arm's\nlength, bent their heads to his hands.\n\n\"Be greeted, O ruler of the earth, guardian of the chosen people, and\nCæsar, lion among men, whose reign is like sunlight, like the cedar of\nLebanon, like a spring, like a palm, like the balsam of Jericho.\"\n\n\"Do ye refuse to call me god?\" inquired Nero.\n\nThe priests grew still paler. The chief one spoke again,--\n\n\"Thy words, O lord, are as sweet as a cluster of grapes, as a ripe\nfig,--for Jehovah filled thy heart with goodness! Thy father's\npredecessor, Cæsar Caius, was stern; still our envoys did not call him\ngod, preferring death itself to violation of the law.\"\n\n\"And did not Caligula give command to throw them to the lions?\"\n\n\"No, lord; Cæsar Caius feared Jehovah's anger.\"\n\nAnd they raised their heads, for the name of the powerful Jehovah gave\nthem courage; confident in his might, they looked into Nero's eyes with\nmore boldness.\n\n\"Do ye accuse the Christians of burning Rome?\" inquired Cæsar. \"We,\nlord, accuse them of this alone,--that they are enemies of the law,\nof the human race, of Rome, and of thee; that long since they have\nthreatened the city and the world with fire! The rest will be told thee\nby this man, whose lips are unstained by a lie, for in his mother's\nveins flowed the blood of the chosen people.\"\n\nNero turned to Chilo: \"Who art thou?\"\n\n\"One who honors thee, O Cyrus; and, besides, a poor Stoic-\"\n\n\"I hate the Stoics,\" said Nero. \"I hate Thrasea; I hate Musonius and\nCornutus. Their speech is repulsive to me; their contempt for art, their\nvoluntary squalor and filth.\"\n\n\"O lord, thy master Seneca has one thousand tables of citrus wood. At\nthy wish I will have twice as many. I am a Stoic from necessity. Dress\nmy stoicism, O Radiant One, in a garland of roses, put a pitcher of\nwine before it; it will sing Anacreon in such strains as to deafen every\nEpicurean.\"\n\nNero, who was pleased by the title \"Radiant,\" smiled and said,-\"Thou\ndost please me.\"\n\n\"This man is worth his weight in gold!\" cried Tigellinus.\n\n\"Put thy liberality with my weight,\" answered Chilo, \"or the wind will\nblow my reward away.\"\n\n\"He would not outweigh Vitelius,\" put in Cæsar.\n\n\"Eheu! Silver-bowed, my wit is not of lead.\"\n\n\"I see that thy faith does not hinder thee from calling me a god.\"\n\n\"O Immortal! My faith is in thee; the Christians blaspheme against that\nfaith, and I hate them.\"\n\n\"What dost thou know of the Christians?\"\n\n\"Wilt thou permit me to weep, O divinity?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Nero; \"weeping annoys me.\"\n\n\"Thou art triply right, for eyes that have seen thee should be free of\ntears forever. O lord, defend me against my enemies.\"\n\n\"Speak of the Christians,\" said Poppæa, with a shade of impatience.\n\n\"It will be at thy command, O Isis,\" answered Chilo. \"From youth I\ndevoted myself to philosophy, and sought truth. I sought it among the\nancient divine sages, in the Academy at Athens, and in the Serapeum at\nAlexandria. When I heard of the Christians, I judged that they formed\nsome new school in which I could find certain kernels of truth; and to\nmy misfortune I made their acquaintance. The first Christian whom evil\nfate brought near me was one Glaucus, a physician of Naples. From him\nI learned in time that they worship a certain Chrestos, who promised\nto exterminate all people and destroy every city on earth, but to spare\nthem if they helped him to exterminate the children of Deucalion. For\nthis reason, O lady, they hate men, and poison fountains; for this\nreason in their assemblies they shower curses on Rome, and on all\ntemples in which our gods are honored. Chrestos was crucified; but he\npromised that when Rome was destroyed by fire, he would come again and\ngive Christians dominion over the world.\"\n\n\"People will understand now why Rome was destroyed,\" interrupted\nTigellinus.\n\n\"Many understand that already, O lord, for I go about in the gardens,\nI go to the Campus Martius, and teach. But if ye listen to the end, ye\nwill know my reasons for vengeance. Glaucus the physician did not reveal\nto me at first that their religion taught hatred. On the contrary,\nhe told me that Chrestos was a good divinity, that the basis of their\nreligion was love. My sensitive heart could not resist such a truth;\nhence I took to loving Glaucus, I trusted him, I shared every morsel\nof bread with him, every copper coin, and dost thou know, lady, how he\nrepaid me? On the road from Naples to Rome he thrust a knife into my\nbody, and my wife, the beautiful and youthful Berenice, he sold to a\nslave-merchant. If Sophocles knew my history--but what do I say? One\nbetter than Sophocles is listening.\"\n\n\"Poor man!\" said Poppæa.\n\n\"Whoso has seen the face of Aphrodite is not poor, lady; and I see it at\nthis moment. But then I sought consolation in philosophy. When I came\nto Rome, I tried to meet Christian elders to obtain justice against\nGlaucus. I thought that they would force him to yield up my wife. I\nbecame acquainted with their chief priest; I became acquainted with\nanother, named Paul, who was in prison in this city, but was liberated\nafterward; I became acquainted with the son of Zebedee, with Linus and\nClitus and many others. I know where they lived before the fire, I know\nwhere they meet. I can point out one excavation in the Vatican Hill\nand a cemetery beyond the Nomentan Gate, where they celebrate their\nshameless ceremonies. I saw the Apostle Peter. I saw how Glaucus killed\nchildren, so that the Apostle might have something to sprinkle on the\nheads of those present; and I saw Lygia, the foster-child of Pomponia\nGræcina, who boasted that though unable to bring the blood of an\ninfant, she brought the death of an infant, for she bewitched the little\nAugusta, thy daughter, O Cyrus, and thine, O Isis!\"\n\n\"Dost hear, Cæsar?\" asked Poppæa.\n\n\"Can that be!\" exclaimed Nero.\n\n\"I could forgive wrongs done myself,\" continued Chilo, \"but when I heard\nof yours, I wanted to stab her. Unfortunately I was stopped by the noble\nVinicius, who loves her.\"\n\n\"Vinicius? But did she not flee from him?\"\n\n\"She fled, but he made search for her; he could not exist without her.\nFor wretched pay I helped him in the search, and it was I who pointed\nout to him the house in which she lived among the Christians in the\nTrans-Tiber. We went there together, and with us thy wrestler Croton,\nwhom the noble Vinicius hired to protect him. But Ursus, Lygia's slave,\ncrushed Croton. That is a man of dreadful strength, O Lord, who can\nbreak a bull's neck as easily as another might a poppy stalk. Aulus and\nPomponia loved him because of that.\"\n\n\"By Hercules,\" said Nero, \"the mortal who crushed Croton deserves a\nstatue in the Forum. But, old man, thou art mistaken or art inventing,\nfor Vinicius killed Croton with a knife.\"\n\n\"That is how people calumniate the gods. O lord, I myself saw Croton's\nribs breaking in the arms of Ursus, who rushed then on Vinicius and\nwould have killed him but for Lygia. Vinicius was ill for a long time\nafter that but they nursed him in the hope that through love he would\nbecome a Christian. In fact, he did become a Christian.\"\n\n\"Vinicius?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And, perhaps, Petronius too?\" inquired Tigellinus, hurriedly.\n\nChilo squirmed, rubbed his hands, and said,--\n\n\"I admire thy penetration, O lord. He may have become one! He may very\nwell have become one.\"\n\n\"Now I understand why he defended the Christians.\"\n\nNero laughed: \"Petronius a Christian! Petronius an enemy of life and\nluxury! Be not foolish; do not ask me to believe that, since I am ready\nnot to believe anything.\"\n\n\"But the noble Vinicius became a Christian, lord. I swear by that\nradiance which comes from thee that I speak the truth, and that nothing\npierces me with such disgust as lying. Pomponia Græcina is a Christian,\nlittle Aulus is a Christian, Lygia is a Christian, and so is Vinicius.\nI served him faithfully, and in return, at the desire of Glaucus the\nphysician, he gave command to flog me, though I am old and was sick and\nhungry. And I have sworn by Hades that I will not forget that for him.\nO lord, avenge my wrongs on them, and I will deliver to thee Peter the\nApostle and Linus and Clitus and Glaucus and Crispus, the highest\nones, and Lygia and Ursus. I will point out hundreds of them to you,\nthousands; I will indicate their houses of prayer, the cemeteries, all\nthy prisons will not hold them! Without me ye could not find them. In\nmisfortunes I have sought consolation; hitherto in philosophy alone, now\nI will find it in favors that will descend on me. I am old, and have not\nknown life; let me begin.\"\n\n\"It is thy wish to be a Stoic before a full plate,\" said Nero.\n\n\"Whoso renders service to thee will fill it by that same.\"\n\n\"Thou art not mistaken, O philosopher.\"\n\nBut Poppæa did not forget her enemies. Her fancy for Vinicius was,\nindeed, rather a momentary whim, which had risen under the influence\nof jealousy, anger, and wounded vanity. Still the coolness of the young\npatrician touched her deeply, and filled her heart with a stubborn\nfeeling of offence. This alone, that he had dared to prefer another,\nseemed to her a crime calling for vengeance. As to Lygia, she hated her\nfrom the first moment, when the beauty of that northern lily alarmed\nher. Petronius, who spoke of the too narrow hips of the girl, might talk\nwhat he pleased into Cæsar, but not into the Augusta. Poppæa the critic\nunderstood at one cast of the eye that in all Rome Lygia alone could\nrival and even surpass her. Thenceforth she vowed her ruin.\n\n\"Lord,\" said she, \"avenge our child.\"\n\n\"Hasten!\" cried Chilo, \"hasten! Otherwise Vinicius will hide her. I will\npoint out the house to which she returned after the fire.\"\n\n\"I will give thee ten men, and go this moment,\" said Tigellinus.\n\n\"O lord! thou hast not seen Croton in the arms of Ursus; if thou wilt\ngive fifty men, I will only show the house from a distance. But if ye\nwill not imprison Vinicius, I am lost.\"\n\nTigellinus looked at Nero. \"Would it not be well, O divinity, to finish\nat once with the uncle and nephew?\"\n\nNero thought a moment and answered,--\n\n\"No, not now. People would not believe us if we tried to persuade them\nthat Petronius, Vinicius, or Pomponia Græcina had fired Rome. Their\nhouses were too beautiful. Their turn will come later; to-day other\nvictims are needed.\"\n\n\"Then, O lord, give me soldiers as a guard,\" said Chilo.\n\n\"See to this, Tigellinus.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt lodge meanwhile with me,\" said the prefect to Chilo.\n\nDelight beamed from the face of the Greek.\n\n\"I will give up all! only hasten!--hasten!\" cried he, with a hoarse\nvoice.\n\n\n\n\nChapter L\n\n\nON leaving Cæsar, Petronius had himself borne to his house on the\nCarinæ, which, being surrounded on three sides by a garden, and having\nin front the small Cecilian Forum, escaped the fire luckily. For this\ncause other Augustians, who had lost their houses and in them vast\nwealth and many works of art, called Petronius fortunate. For years it\nhad been repeated that he was the first-born of Fortune, and Cæsar's\ngrowing friendship in recent times seemed to confirm the correctness of\nthis statement.\n\nBut that first-born of Fortune might meditate now on the fickleness of\nhis mother, or rather on her likeness to Chronos, who devoured his own\nchildren.\n\n\"Were my house burnt,\" said he to himself, \"and with it my gems,\nEtruscan vases, Alexandrian glass, and Corinthian bronze, Nero might\nindeed have forgotten the offence. By Pollux! And to think that it\ndepended on me alone to be pretorian prefect at this moment. I should\nproclaim Tigellinus the incendiary, which he is really; I should array\nhim in the 'painful tunic,' and deliver him to the populace, protect\nthe Christians, rebuild Rome. Who knows even if a better epoch would not\nbegin thus for honest people? I ought to have taken the office, simply\nout of regard for Vinicius. In case of overwork I could have surrendered\ncommand to him, and Nero would not have even tried to resist. Then let\nVinicius baptize all the pretorians, nay, Cæsar himself; what harm could\nthat be to me? Nero pious, Nero virtuous and merciful,--this would be\neven an amusing spectacle.\"\n\nAnd his carelessness was so great that he began to laugh. But after a\ntime his thoughts turned in another direction. It seemed to him that\nhe was in Antium; that Paul of Tarsus was saying to him, \"Ye call us\nenemies of life, but answer me, Petronius: If Cæsar were a Christian,\nand acted according to our religion, would not life be safer and more\ncertain?\"\n\nAnd remembering these words, he continued: \"By Castor! No matter how\nmany Christians they murder here, Paul will find as many new ones; for\nhe is right, unless the world can rest on scoundrelism. But who knows\nthat this will not be the case soon? I myself, who have learned not a\nlittle, did not learn how to be a great enough scoundrel; hence I shall\nhave to open my veins. But in every case it must have ended thus, and if\nnot thus, in some other way. I am sorry for Eunice and my Myrrhene vase;\nbut Eunice is free, and the vase will go with me. Ahenobarbus will not\nget it, in any event! I am sorry also for Vinicius. But, though I was\nbored less of late than before, I am ready. In the world things are\nbeautiful; but people are so vile for the greater part that life is not\nworth a regret. He who knew how to live should know how to die. Though\nI belong to the Augustians, I was freer than they supposed.\" Here he\nshrugged his shoulders. \"They may think that my knees are trembling\nat this moment, and that terror has raised the hair on my head; but\non reaching home, I will take a bath in violet water, my golden-haired\nherself will anoint me; then after refreshment we will have sung to us\nthat hymn to Apollo composed by Anthemios. I said once to myself that\nit was not worth while to think of death, for death thinks of us without\nour assistance. It would be a wonder if there are really Elysian fields,\nand in them shades of people. Eunice would come in time to me, and\nwe should wander together over asphodel meadows. I should find, too,\nsociety better than this. What buffoons, tricksters, a vile herd without\ntaste or polish! Tens of Arbiters Elegantiarum could not transform those\nTrimalchilons into decent people. By Persephone! I have had enough!\"\n\nAnd he noted with astonishment that something separated him from those\npeople already. He had known them well earlier, and had known what to\nthink of them; still they seemed to him now as farther away and more\ndeserving of contempt than usual. Indeed, he had had enough of them!\n\nBut afterward he began to think over his position. Thanks to his\nacuteness, he knew that destruction was not threatening him directly.\nNero had seized an appropriate occasion to utter a few select, lofty\nphrases about friendship and forgiveness, thus binding himself for the\nmoment. \"He will have to seek pretexts, and before he finds them\nmuch time may pass. First of all, he will celebrate the games with\nChristians,\" said Petronius to himself; \"only then will he think of me,\nand if that be true, it is not worth while to take trouble or change my\ncourse of life. Nearer danger threatens Vinicius!\"\n\nAnd thenceforth he thought only of Vinicius, whom he resolved to rescue.\nFour sturdy Bithynians bore his litter quickly through ruins, ash-heaps,\nand stones with which the Carinæ was filled yet; but he commanded\nthem to run swiftly so as to be home at the earliest. Vinicius,\nwhose \"insula\" had been burned, was living with him, and was at home,\nfortunately.\n\n\"Hast seen Lygia to-day?\" were the first words of Petronius.\n\n\"I have just come from her.\"\n\n\"Hear what I tell thee, and lose no time in questions. It has been\ndecided this morning at Cæsar's to lay the blame of burning Rome on the\nChristians. Persecutions and tortures threaten them. Pursuit may begin\nany instant. Take Lygia and flee at once beyond the Alps even, or to\nAfrica. And hasten, for the Palatine is nearer the Trans-Tiber than is\nthis place.\"\n\nVinicius was, indeed, too much of a soldier to lose time in useless\nqueries. He listened with frowning brows, and a face intent and\nterrible, but fearless. Evidently the first feeling of his nature in\npresence of peril was a wish to defend and give battle.\n\n\"I go,\" said he.\n\n\"One word more. Take a purse of gold, take weapons, and a handful of thy\nChristians. In case of need, rescue her!\"\n\nVinicius was in the door of the atrium already.\n\n\"Send me news by a slave!\" cried Petronius.\n\nWhen left alone, he began to walk by the columns which adorned the\natrium, thinking of what had happened. He knew that Lygia and Linus had\nreturned after the fire to the former house, which, like the greater\npart of the Trans-Tiber, had been saved; and that was an unfavorable\ncircumstance, for otherwise it would have been difficult to find them\namong throngs of people. Petronius hoped, however, that as things were,\nno one in the Palatine knew where they lived, and therefore in every\ncase Vinicius would anticipate the pretorians. It occurred to him also\nthat Tigellinus, wishing to seize at one attempt as many Christians as\npossible, would extend his net over all Rome. \"If they send no more than\nten people after her,\" thought he, \"that giant Lygian will break their\nbones and what will it be if Vinicius comes with assistance?\" Thinking\nof this he was consoled. True, armed resistance to the pretorians was\nalmost the same as war with Cæsar. Petronius knew also that if Vinicius\nhid from the vengeance of Nero, that vengeance might fall on himself;\nbut he cared little. On the contrary, he rejoiced at the thought of\ncrossing Nero's plans and those of Tigellinus, and determined to spare\nin the matter neither men nor money. Since in Antium Paul of Tarsus\nhad converted most of his slaves, he, while defending Christians, might\ncount on their zeal and devotion.\n\nThe entrance of Eunice interrupted his thoughts. At sight of her all\nhis cares and troubles vanished without a trace. He forgot Cæsar,\nthe disfavor into which he had fallen, the degraded Augustians, the\npersecution threatening the Christians, Vinicius, Lygia, and looked only\nat her with the eyes of an anthetic man enamoured of marvellous forms,\nand of a lover for whom love breathes from those forms. She, in\na transparent violet robe called \"Coa vestis,\" through which her\nmaiden-like form appeared, was really as beautiful as a goddess. Feeling\nherself admired meanwhile, and loving him with all her soul, ever\neager for his fondling, she blushed with delight as if she had been an\ninnocent maiden.\n\n\"What wilt thou say to me, Charis?\" asked Petronius, stretching his\nhands to her.\n\nShe, inclining her golden head to him, answered,--\"Anthemios has come\nwith his choristers, and asks if 'tis thy wish to hear him.\"\n\n\"Let him stay; he will sing to us during dinner the hymn to Apollo. By\nthe groves of Paphos! when I see thee in that Coan gauze, I think that\nAphrodite has veiled herself with a piece of the sky, and is standing\nbefore me.\"\n\n\"O lord!\"\n\n\"Come hither, Eunice, embrace me with thy arms, and give thy lips to me.\nDost thou love me?\"\n\n\"I should not have loved Zeus more.\"\n\nThen she pressed her lips to his, while quivering in his arms from\nhappiness. After a while Petronius asked,--\n\n\"But if we should have to separate?\"\n\nEunice looked at him with fear in her eyes.\n\n\"How is that, lord?\"\n\n\"Fear not; I ask, for who knows but I may have to set out on a long\njourney?\"\n\n\"Take me with thee-\"\n\nPetronius changed the conversation quickly, and said,--\n\n\"Tell me, are there asphodels on the grass plot in the garden?\"\n\n\"The cypresses and the grass plots are yellow from the fire, the leaves\nhave fallen from the myrtles, and the whole garden seems dead.\"\n\n\"All Rome seems dead, and soon it will be a real graveyard. Dost\nthou know that an edict against the Christians is to be issued, and a\npersecution will begin during which thousands will perish?\"\n\n\"Why punish the Christians, lord? They are good and peaceful.\"\n\n\"For that very reason.\"\n\n\"Let us go to the sea. Thy beautiful eyes do not like to see blood.\"\n\n\"Well, but meanwhile I must bathe. Come to the elæothesium to anoint\nmy arms. By the girdle of Kypris! never hast thou seemed to me so\nbeautiful. I will give command to make a bath for thee in the form of a\nshell; thou wilt be like a costly pearl in it. Come, Golden-haired!\"\n\nHe went out, and an hour later both, in garlands of roses and with misty\neyes, were resting before a table covered with a service of gold. They\nwere served by boys dressed as Cupids, they drank wine from ivy-wreathed\ngoblets, and heard the hymn to Apollo sung to the sound of harps, under\ndirection of Anthemios. What cared they if around the villa chimneys\npointed up from the ruins of houses, and gusts of wind swept the ashes\nof burnt Rome in every direction? They were happy thinking only of love,\nwhich had made their lives like a divine dream. But before the hymn was\nfinished a slave, the chief of the atrium, entered the hall.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, in a voice quivering with alarm, \"a centurion with a\ndetachment of pretorians is standing before the gate, and, at command of\nCæsar, wishes to see thee.\"\n\nThe song and the sound of lutes ceased. Alarm was roused in all present;\nfor Cæsar, in communications with friends, did not employ pretorians\nusually, and their arrival at such times foreboded no good. Petronius\nalone showed not the slightest emotion, but said, like a man annoyed by\ncontinual visits,--\n\n\"They might let me dine in peace.\" Then turning to the chief of the\natrium, he said, \"Let him enter.\"\n\nThe slave disappeared behind the curtain; a moment later heavy steps\nwere heard, and an acquaintance of Petronius appeared, the centurion\nAper, armed, and with an iron helmet on his head.\n\n\"Noble lord,\" said he, \"here is a letter from Cæsar.\"\n\nPetronius extended his white hand lazily, took the tablet, and, casting\nhis eye over it, gave it, in all calmness to Eunice.\n\n\"He will read a new book of the Troyad this evening, and invites me to\ncome.'\n\n\"I have only the order to deliver the letter,\" said the centurion.\n\n\"Yes, there will be no answer. But, centurion, thou mightst rest a while\nwith us and empty a goblet of wine?\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee, noble lord. A goblet of wine I will drink to thy health\nwillingly; but rest I may not, for I am on duty.\"\n\n\"Why was the letter given to thee, and not sent by a slave?\"\n\n\"I know not, lord. Perhaps because I was sent in this direction on other\nduty.\"\n\n\"I know, against the Christians?\"\n\n\"Yes, lord.\"\n\n\"Is it long since the pursuit was begun?\"\n\n\"Some divisions were sent to the Trans-Tiber before midday.\" When he had\nsaid this, the centurion shook a little wine from the goblet in honor of\nMars; then he emptied it, and said,--\n\n\"May the gods grant thee, lord, what thou desirest.\"\n\n\"Take the goblet too,\" said Petronius.\n\nThen he gave a sign to Anthemios to finish the hymn to Apollo.\n\n\"Bronzebeard is beginning to play with me and Vinicius,\" thought he,\nwhen the harps sounded anew. \"I divine his plan! He wanted to terrify\nme by sending the invitation through a centurion. They will ask the\ncenturion in the evening how I received him. No, no! thou wilt not amuse\nthyself overmuch, cruel and wicked prophet. I know that thou wilt not\nforget the offence, I know that my destruction will not fail; but if\nthou think that I shall look into thy eyes imploringly, that thou wilt\nsee fear and humility on my face, thou art mistaken.\"\n\n\"Cæsar writes, lord,\" said Eunice, \"'Come if thou hast the wish'; wilt\nthou go?\"\n\n\"I am in excellent health, and can listen even to his verses,\" answered\nPetronius; \"hence I shall go, all the more since Vinicius cannot go.\"\n\nIn fact, after the dinner was finished and after the usual walk, he gave\nhimself into the hands of hairdressers and of slaves who arranged his\nrobes, and an hour later, beautiful as a god, he gave command to take\nhim to the Palatine.\n\nIt was late, the evening was warm and calm; the moon shone so brightly\nthat the lampadarii going before the litter put out their torches. On\nthe streets and among the ruins crowds of people were pushing along,\ndrunk with wine, in garlands of ivy and honeysuckle, bearing in\ntheir hands branches of myrtle and laurel taken from Cæsar's gardens.\nAbundance of grain and hopes of great games filled the hearts of all\nwith gladness. Here and there songs were sung magnifying the \"divine\nnight\" and love; here and there they were dancing by the light of the\nmoon, and the slaves were forced repeatedly to demand space for the\nlitter \"of the noble Petronius,\" and then the crowd pushed apart,\nshouting in honor of their favorite.\n\nHe was thinking of Vinicius, and wondering why he had no news from him.\nHe was an Epicurean and an egotist, but passing time, now with Paul\nof Tarsus, now with Vinicius, hearing daily of the Christians, he had\nchanged somewhat without his own knowledge. A certain breeze from them\nhad blown on him; this cast new seeds into his soul. Besides his own\nperson others began to occupy him; moreover, he had been always attached\nto Vinicius, for in childhood he had loved greatly his sister, the\nmother of Vinicius; at present, therefore, when he had taken part in his\naffairs, he looked on them with that interest with which he would have\nlooked on some tragedy.\n\nPetronius did not lose hope that Vinicius had anticipated the pretorians\nand fled with Lygia, or, in the worse case, had rescued her. But he\nwould have preferred to be certain, since he foresaw that he might have\nto answer various questions for which he would better be prepared.\n\nStopping before the house of Tiberius, he alighted from the litter,\nand after a while entered the atrium, filled already with Augustians.\nYesterday's friends, though astonished that he was invited, still pushed\nback; but he moved on among them, beautiful, free, unconcerned, as\nself-confident as if he himself had the power to distribute favors.\nSome, seeing him thus, were alarmed in spirit lest they had shown him\nindifference too early.\n\nCæsar, however, feigned not to see him, and did not return his\nobeisance, pretending to be occupied in conversation. But Tigellinus\napproached and said,\n\n\"Good evening, Arbiter Elegantiarum. Dost thou assert still that it was\nnot the Christians who burnt Rome?\"\n\nPetronius shrugged his shoulders, and, clapping Tigellinus on the back\nas he would a freedman, answered,--\n\n\"Thou knowest as well as I what to think of that.\"\n\n\"I do not dare to rival thee in wisdom.\"\n\n\"And thou art right, for when Cæsar reads to us a new book from the\nTroyad, thou, instead of crying out like a jackdaw, wouldst have to give\nan opinion that was not pointless.\"\n\nTigellinus bit his lips. He was not over-rejoiced that Cæsar had decided\nto read a new book, for that opened a field in which he could not rival\nPetronius. In fact, during the reading, Nero, from habit, turned his\neyes involuntarily toward Petronius, looking carefully to see what he\ncould read in his face. The latter listened, raised his brows, agreed at\ntimes, in places increased his attention as if to be sure that he heard\ncorrectly. Then he praised or criticised, demanded corrections or the\nsmoothing of certain verses. Nero himself felt that for others in\ntheir exaggerated praises it was simply a question of themselves, that\nPetronius alone was occupied with poetry for its own sake; that he alone\nunderstood it, and that if he praised one could be sure that the verses\ndeserved praise. Gradually therefore he began to discuss with him, to\ndispute; and when at last Petronius brought the fitness of a certain\nexpression into doubt, he said,--\n\n\"Thou wilt see in the last book why I used it.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" thought Petronius, \"then we shall wait for the last book.\"\n\nMore than one hearing this said in spirit: \"Woe to me! Petronius with\ntime before him may return to favor and overturn even Tigellinus.\" And\nthey began again to approach him. But the end of the evening was less\nfortunate; for Cæsar, at the moment when Petronius was taking leave,\ninquired suddenly, with blinking eyes and a face at once glad and\nmalicious,--\n\n\"But why did not Vinicius come?\"\n\nHad Petronius been sure that Vinicius and Lygia were beyond the gates\nof the city, he would have answered, \"With thy permission he has married\nand gone.\" But seeing Nero's strange smile, he answered,--\n\n\"Thy invitation, divinity, did not find him at home.\"\n\n\"Say to Vinicius that I shall be glad to see him,\" answered Nero, \"and\ntell him from me not to neglect the games in which Christians will\nappear.\"\n\nThese words alarmed Petronius. It seemed to him that they related to\nLygia directly. Sitting in his litter, he gave command to bear him home\nstill more quickly than in the morning. That, however, was not easy.\nBefore the house of Tiberius stood a crowd dense and noisy, drunk as\nbefore, though not singing and dancing, but, as it were, excited. From\nafar came certain shouts which Petronius could not understand at once,\nbut which rose and grew till at last they were one savage roar,--\n\n\"To the lions with Christians!\"\n\nRich litters of courtiers pushed through the howling rabble. From the\ndepth of burnt streets new crowds rushed forth continually; these,\nhearing the cry, repeated it. News passed from mouth to mouth that\nthe pursuit had continued from the forenoon, that a multitude of\nincendiaries were seized; and immediately along the newly cleared and\nthe old streets, through alleys lying among ruins around the Palatine,\nover all the hills and gardens were heard through the length and breadth\nof Rome shouts of swelling rage,--\n\n\"To the lions with Christians!\"\n\n\"Herd!\" repeated Petronius, with contempt; \"a people worthy of Cæsar!\"\nAnd he began to think that a society resting on superior force, on\ncruelty of which even barbarians had no conception, on crimes and mad\nprofligacy, could not endure. Rome ruled the world, but was also its\nulcer. The odor of a corpse was rising from it. Over its decaying\nlife the shadow of death was descending. More than once this had been\nmentioned even among the Augustians, but never before had Petronius had\na clearer view of this truth that the laurelled chariot on which Rome\nstood in the form of a triumphator, and which dragged behind a\nchained herd of nations, was going to the precipice. The life of that\nworld-ruling city seemed to him a kind of mad dance, an orgy, which must\nend. He saw then that the Christians alone had a new basis of life; but\nhe judged that soon there would not remain a trace of the Christians.\nAnd what then?\n\nThe mad dance would continue under Nero; and if Nero disappeared,\nanother would be found of the same kind or worse, for with such a people\nand such patricians there was no reason to find a better leader. There\nwould be a new orgy, and moreover a fouler and a viler one.\n\nBut the orgy could not last forever, and there would be need of sleep\nwhen it was over, even because of simple exhaustion.\n\nWhile thinking of this, Petronius felt immensely wearied. Was it worth\nwhile to live, and live in uncertainty, with no purpose but to look\nat such a society? The genius of death was not less beautiful than the\ngenius of sleep, and he also had wings at his shoulders.\n\nThe litter stopped before the arbiter's door, which was opened that\ninstant by the watchful keeper.\n\n\"Has the noble Vinicius returned?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"Yes, lord, a moment ago,\" replied the slave.\n\n\"He has not rescued her,\" thought Petronius. And casting aside his toga,\nhe ran into the atrium. Vinicius was sitting on a stool; his head bent\nalmost to his knees with his hands on his head; but at the sound of\nsteps he raised his stony face, in which the eyes alone had a feverish\nbrightness.\n\n\"Thou wert late?\" asked Petronius.\n\n\"Yes; they seized her before midday.\"\n\nA moment of silence followed.\n\n\"Hast thou seen her?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"In the Mamertine prison.\"\n\nPetronius trembled and looked at Vinicius with an inquiring glance. The\nlatter understood.\n\n\"No,\" said he. \"She was not thrust down to the Tullianum [The lowest\npart of the prison, lying entirely underground, with a single opening\nin the ceiling. Jugurtha died there of hunger.] nor even to the middle\nprison. I paid the guard to give her his own room. Ursus took his place\nat the threshold and is guarding her.\"\n\n\"Why did Ursus not defend her?\"\n\n\"They sent fifty pretorians, and Linus forbade him.\"\n\n\"But Linus?\"\n\n\"Linus is dying; therefore they did not seize him.\"\n\n\"What is thy intention?\"\n\n\"To save her or die with her. I too believe in Christ.\"\n\nVinicius spoke with apparent calmness; but there was such despair in his\nvoice that the heart of Petronius quivered from pure pity.\n\n\"I understand thee,\" said he; \"but how dost thou think to save her?\"\n\n\"I paid the guards highly, first to shield her from indignity, and\nsecond not to hinder her flight.\"\n\n\"When can that happen?\"\n\n\"They answered that they could not give her to me at once, as they\nfeared responsibility. When the prison will be filled with a multitude\nof people, and when the tally of prisoners is confused, they will\ndeliver her. But that is a desperate thing! Do thou save her, and me\nfirst! Thou art a friend of Cæsar. He himself gave her to me. Go to him\nand save me!\"\n\nPetronius, instead of answering, called a slave, and, commanding him to\nbring two dark mantles and two swords, turned to Vinicius,\n\n\"On the way I will tell thee,\" said he. \"Meanwhile take the mantle and\nweapon, and we will go to the prison. There give the guards a hundred\nthousand sestertia; give them twice and five times more, if they will\nfree Lygia at once. Otherwise it will be too late.\"\n\n\"Let us go,\" said Vinicius.\n\nAfter a while both were on the street.\n\n\"Now listen to me,\" said Petronius. \"I did not wish to lose time. I am\nin disfavor, beginning with to-day. My own life is hanging on a hair;\nhence I can do nothing with Cæsar. Worse than that, I am sure that he\nwould act in opposition to my request. If that were not the case, would\nI advise thee to flee with Lygia or to rescue her? Besides, if thou\nescape, Cæsar's wrath will turn on me. To-day he would rather do\nsomething at thy request than at mine. Do not count on that, however.\nGet her out of the prison, and flee! Nothing else is left. If that does\nnot succeed, there will be time for other methods. Meanwhile know that\nLygia is in prison, not alone for belief in Christ; Poppæa's anger is\npursuing her and thee. Thou hast offended the Augusta by rejecting her,\ndost remember? She knows that she was rejected for Lygia, whom she hated\nfrom the first cast of the eye. Nay, she tried to destroy Lygia before\nby ascribing the death of her own infant to her witchcraft. The hand\nof Poppæa is in this. How explain that Lygia was the first to be\nimprisoned? Who could point out the house of Linus? But I tell thee that\nshe has been followed this long time. I know that I wring thy soul, and\ntake the remnant of thy hope from thee, but I tell thee this purposely,\nfor the reason that if thou free her not before they come at the idea\nthat thou wilt try, ye are both lost.\"\n\n\"Yes; I understand!\" muttered Vinicius.\n\nThe streets were empty because of the late hour. Their further\nconversation was interrupted, however, by a drunken gladiator who came\ntoward them. He reeled against Petronius, put one hand on his shoulder,\ncovering his face with a breath filled with wine, and shouted in a\nhoarse voice,--\n\n\"To the lions with Christians!\"\n\n\"Mirmillon,\" answered Petronius, quietly, \"listen to good counsel; go\nthy way.\"\n\nWith his other hand the drunken man seized him by the arm,--\n\n\"Shout with me, or I'll break thy neck: Christians to the lions!\" But\nthe arbiter's nerves had had enough of those shouts. From the time that\nhe had left the Palatine they had been stifling him like a nightmare,\nand rending his ears. So when he saw the fist of the giant above him,\nthe measure of his patience was exceeded.\n\n\"Friend,\" said he, \"thou hint the smell of wine, and art stopping my\nway.\"\n\nThus speaking, he drove into the man's breast to the hilt the short\nsword which he had brought from home; then, taking the arm of Vinicius,\nhe continued as if nothing had happened,--\n\n\"Cæsar said to-day, 'Tell Vinicius from me to be at the games in which\nChristians will appear.' Dost understand what that means? They wish to\nmake a spectacle of thy pain. That is a settled affair. Perhaps that is\nwhy thou and I are not imprisoned yet. If thou art not able to get her\nat once--I do not know--Acte might take thy part; but can she effect\nanything? Thy Sicilian lands, too, might tempt Tigellinus. Make the\ntrial.\"\n\n\"I will give him all that I have,\" answered Vinicius.\n\nFrom the Carinæ to the Forum was not very far; hence they arrived\nsoon. The night had begun to pale, and the walls of the castle came out\ndefinitely from the shadow.\n\nSuddenly, as they turned toward the Mamertine prison, Petronius stopped,\nand said,\n\n\"Pretorians! Too late!\"\n\nIn fact the prison was surrounded by a double rank of soldiers. The\nmorning dawn was silvering their helmets and the points of their\njavelins.\n\nVinicius grew as pale as marble. \"Let us go on,\" said he.\n\nAfter a while they halted before the line. Gifted with an uncommon\nmemory, Petronius knew not only the officers, but nearly all the\npretorian soldiers. Soon he saw an acquaintance, a leader of a cohort,\nand nodded to him.\n\n\"But what is this, Niger?\" asked he; \"are ye commanded to watch the\nprison?\"\n\n\"Yes, noble Petronius. The prefect feared lest they might try to rescue\nthe incendiaries.\"\n\n\"Have ye the order to admit no one?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"We have not; acquaintances will visit the prisoners, and in that way we\nshall seize more Christians.\"\n\n\"Then let me in,\" said Vinicius; and pressing Petronius's hand, he said,\n\"See Acte, I will come to learn her answer.\"\n\n\"Come,\" responded Petronius.\n\nAt that moment under the ground and beyond the thick walls was heard\nsinging. The hymn, at first low and muffled, rose more and more. The\nvoices of men, women, and children were mingled in one harmonious\nchorus. The whole prison began to sound, in the calmness of dawn, like\na harp. But those were not voices of sorrow or despair; on the contrary,\ngladness and triumph were heard in them.\n\nThe soldiers looked at one another with amazement. The first golden and\nrosy gleams of the morning appeared in the sky.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LI\n\n\nTHE cry, \"Christians to the lions!\" was heard increasingly in every part\nof the city. At first not only did no one doubt that they were the real\nauthors of the catastrophe, but no one wished to doubt, since their\npunishment was to be a splendid amusement for the populace. Still the\nopinion spread that the catastrophe would not have assumed such dreadful\nproportions but for the anger of the gods; for this reason \"piacula,\"\nor purifying sacrifices, were commanded in the temples. By advice of the\nSibylline books, the Senate ordained solemnities and public prayer to\nVulcan, Ceres, and Proserpina. Matrons made offerings to Juno; a whole\nprocession of them went to the seashore to take water and sprinkle with\nit the statue of the goddess. Married women prepared feasts to the gods\nand night watches. All Rome purified itself from sin, made offerings,\nand placated the Immortals. Meanwhile new broad streets were opened\namong the ruins. In one place and another foundations were laid for\nmagnificent houses, palaces, and temples. But first of all they\nbuilt with unheard-of haste an enormous wooden amphitheatre in which\nChristians were to die. Immediately after that consultation in the house\nof Tiberius, orders went to consuls to furnish wild beasts. Tigellinus\nemptied the vivaria of all Italian cities, not excepting the smaller\nones. In Africa, at his command, gigantic hunts were organized, in\nwhich the entire local population was forced to take part. Elephants and\ntigers were brought in from Asia, crocodiles and hippopotamuses from the\nNile, lions from the Atlas, wolves and bears from the Pyrenees, savage\nhounds from Hibernia, Molossian dogs from Epirus, bisons and the\ngigantic wild aurochs from Germany. Because of the number of prisoners,\nthe games were to surpass in greatness anything seen up to that time.\nCæsar wished to drown all memory of the fire in blood, and make\nRome drunk with it; hence never had there been a greater promise of\nbloodshed.\n\nThe willing people helped guards and pretorians in hunting Christians.\nThat was no difficult labor for whole groups of them camped with the\nother population in the midst of the gardens, and confessed their\nfaith openly. When surrounded, they knelt, and while singing hymns let\nthemselves be borne away without resistance. But their patience only\nincreased the anger of the populace, who, not understanding its origin,\nconsidered it as rage and persistence in crime. A madness seized\nthe persecutors. It happened that the mob wrested Christians from\npretorians, and tore them to pieces; women were dragged to prison by the\nhair; children's heads were dashed against stones. Thousands of people\nrushed, howling, night and day through the streets. Victims were sought\nin ruins, in chimneys, in cellars. Before the prison bacchanalian feasts\nand dances were celebrated at fires, around casks of wine.\n\nIn the evening was heard with delight bellowing which was like thunder,\nand which sounded throughout the city. The prisons were overflowing\nwith thousands of people; every day the mob and pretorians drove in\nnew victims. Pity had died out. It seemed that people had forgotten\nto speak, and in their wild frenzy remembered one shout alone: \"To\nthe lions with Christians!\" Wonderfully hot days came, and nights more\nstifling than ever before; the very air seemed filled with blood, crime,\nand madness.\n\nAnd that surpassing measure of cruelty was answered by an equal measure\nof desire for martyrdom,--the confessors of Christ went to death\nwillingly, or even sought death till they were restrained by the stern\ncommands of superiors. By the injunction of these superiors they began\nto assemble only outside the city, in excavations near the Appian Way,\nand in vineyards belonging to patrician Christians, of whom none had\nbeen imprisoned so far. It was known perfectly on the Palatine that to\nthe confessors of Christ belonged Flavius, Domitilla, Pomponia Græcina,\nCornelius Pudens, and Vinicius. Cæsar himself, however, feared that the\nmob would not believe that such people had burned Rome, and since it\nwas important beyond everything to convince the mob, punishment and\nvengeance were deferred till later days. Others were of the opinion, but\nerroneously, that those patricians were saved by the influence of Acte.\nPetronius, after parting with Vinicius, turned to Acte, it is true, to\ngain assistance for Lygia; but she could offer him only tears, for she\nlived in oblivion and suffering, and was endured only in so far as she\nhid herself from Poppæa and Cæsar.\n\nBut she had visited Lygia in prison, she had carried her clothing\nand food, and above all had saved her from injury on the part of the\nprison-guards, who, moreover, were bribed already.\n\nPetronius, unable to forget that had it not been for him and his plan\nof taking Lygia from the house of Aulus, probably she would not be in\nprison at that moment, and, besides, wishing to win the game against\nTigellinus, spared neither time nor efforts. In the course of a few days\nhe saw Seneca, Domitius Afer, Crispinilla, and Diodorus, through whom\nhe wished to reach Poppæa; he saw Terpnos, and the beautiful Pythagoras,\nand finally Aliturus and Paris, to whom Cæsar usually refused nothing.\nWith the help of Chrysothemis, then mistress of Vatinius, he tried to\ngain even his aid, not sparing in this case and in others promises and\nmoney.\n\nBut all these efforts were fruitless. Seneca, uncertain of the morrow,\nfell to explaining to him that the Christians, even if they had not\nburned Rome, should be exterminated, for the good of the city,--in a\nword, he justified the coming slaughter for political reasons. Terpnos\nand Diodorus took the money, and did nothing in return for it. Vatinius\nreported to Cæsar that they had been trying to bribe him. Aliturus\nalone, who at first was hostile to the Christians, took pity on them\nthen, and made bold to mention to Cæsar the imprisoned maiden, and to\nimplore in her behalf. He obtained nothing, however, but the answer,--\n\n\"Dost thou think that I have a soul inferior to that of Brutus, who\nspared not his own sons for the good of Rome?\"\n\nWhen this answer was repeated to Petronius, he said,--\n\n\"Since Nero has compared himself to Brutus, there is no salvation.\"\n\nBut he was sorry for Vinicius, and dread seized him lest he might\nattempt his own life. \"Now,\" thought the arbiter, \"he is upheld by the\nefforts which he makes to save her, by the sight of her, and by his own\nsuffering; but when all means fail and the last ray of hope is quenched,\nby Castor! he will not survive, he will throw himself on his sword.\"\nPetronius understood better how to die thus than to love and suffer like\nVinicius.\n\nMeanwhile Vinicius did all that he could think of to save Lygia. He\nvisited Augustians; and he, once so proud, now begged their assistance.\nThrough Vitelius he offered Tigellinus all his Sicilian estates, and\nwhatever else the man might ask; but Tigellinus, not wishing apparently\nto offend the Augusta, refused. To go to Cæsar himself, embrace his\nknees and implore, would lead to nothing. Vinicius wished, it is true,\nto do this; but Petronius, hearing of his purpose, inquired,--\n\n\"But should he refuse thee, or answer with a jest or a shameless threat,\nwhat wouldst thou do?\"\n\nAt this the young tribune's features contracted with pain and rage, and\nfrom his fixed jaws a gritting sound was heard.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Petronius, \"I advise thee against this, because thou wouldst\nclose all paths of rescue.\"\n\nVinicius restrained himself, and passing his palm over his forehead,\nwhich was covered with cold sweat, replied,--\n\n\"No, no! I am a Christian.\"\n\n\"But thou will forget this, as thou didst a moment ago. Thou hast\nthe right to ruin thyself, but not her. Remember what the daughter of\nSejanus passed through before death.\"\n\nSpeaking thus he was not altogether sincere, since he was concerned\nmore for Vinicius than for Lygia. Still he knew that in no way could\nhe restrain him from a dangerous step as well as by telling him that he\nwould bring inexorable destruction on Lygia. Moreover he was right; for\non the Palatine they had counted on the visit of the young tribune, and\nhad taken needful precautions.\n\nBut the suffering of Vinicius surpassed human endurance. From the moment\nthat Lygia was imprisoned and the glory of coming martyrdom had fallen\non her, not only did he love her a hundred times more, but he began\nsimply to give her in his soul almost religious honor, as he would a\nsuperhuman being. And now, at the thought that he must lose this being\nboth loved and holy, that besides death torments might be inflicted on\nher more terrible than death itself, the blood stiffened in his veins.\nHis soul was turned into one groan, his thoughts were confused. At times\nit seemed to him that his skull was filled with living fire, which would\neither burn or burst it. He ceased to understand what was happening; he\nceased to understand why Christ, the Merciful, the Divine, did not come\nwith aid to His adherents; why the dingy walls of the Palatine did\nnot sink through the earth, and with them Nero, the Augustians, the\npretorian camp, and all that city of crime. He thought that it could not\nand should not be otherwise; and all that his eyes saw, and because\nof which his heart was breaking, was a dream. But the roaring of wild\nbeasts informed him that it was reality; the sound of the axes beneath\nwhich rose the arena told him that it was reality; the howling of the\npeople and the overfilled prisons confirmed this. Then his faith in\nChrist was alarmed; and that alarm was a new torture, the most dreadful\nof all, perhaps.\n\n\"Remember what the daughter of Sejanus endured before death,\" said\nPetronius to him, meanwhile.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LII\n\n\nAND everything had failed. Vinicius lowered himself to the degree that\nhe sought support from freedmen and slaves, both those of Cæsar and\nPoppæa; he overpaid their empty promises, he won their good will with\nrich gifts. He found the first husband of Poppæa, Rufus Crispinus, and\nobtained from him a letter. He gave a villa in Antium to Rufius, her son\nby the first marriage; but thereby he merely angered Cæsar, who hated\nhis step-son. By a special courier he sent a letter to Poppæa's second\nhusband, Otho, in Spain. He sacrificed his property and himself, until\nhe saw at last that he was simply the plaything of people; that if he\nhad pretended that the imprisonment of Lygia concerned him little, he\nwould have freed her sooner.\n\nPetronius saw this, too. Meanwhile day followed day. The amphitheatre\nwas finished. The \"tesseræ\" were distributed,--that is, tickets of\nentrance, to the ludus matutinus (morning games). But this time the\nmorning games, because of the unheard-of number of victims, were to\ncontinue for days, weeks, and months. It was not known where to put the\nChristians. The prisons were crammed, and fever was raging in them. The\nputiculi--common pits in which slaves were kept--began to be overfilled.\nThere was fear that diseases might spread over the whole city hence,\nhaste.\n\nAll these reports struck the ears of Vinicius, extinguishing in him the\nlast hope. While there was yet time, he might delude himself with\nthe belief that he could do something, but now there was no time. The\nspectacles must begin. Lygia might find herself any day in a cuniculum\nof the circus, whence the only exit was to the arena. Vinicius, not\nknowing whither fate and the cruelty of superior force might throw her,\nvisited all the circuses, bribed guards and beast-keepers, laying before\nthem plans which they could not execute. In time he saw that he was\nworking for this only,--to make death less terrible to her; and just\nthen he felt that instead of brains he had glowing coals in his head.\n\nFor the rest he had no thought of surviving her, and determined to\nperish at the same time. But he feared lest pain might burn his life out\nbefore the dreadful hour came. His friends and Petronius thought also\nthat any day might open the kingdom of shadows before him. His face was\nblack, and resembled those waxen masks kept in lararia. In his features\nastonishment had grown frigid, as if he hid no understanding of what had\nhappened and what might happen. When any one spoke to him, he raised his\nhands to his face mechanically, and, pressing his temples, looked at the\nspeaker with an inquiring and astonished gaze. He passed whole nights\nwith Ursus at Lygia's door in the prison; if she commanded him to go\naway and rest, he returned to Petronius, and walked in the atrium till\nmorning. The slaves found him frequently kneeling with upraised hands\nor lying with his face to the earth. He prayed to Christ, for Christ\nwas his last hope. Everything had failed him. Only a miracle could save\nLygia; hence he beat the stone flags with his forehead and prayed for\nthe miracle.\n\nBut he knew enough yet to understand that Peter's prayers were more\nimportant than his own. Peter had promised him Lygia, Peter had baptized\nhim, Peter had performed miracles, let him give aid and rescue.\n\nAnd a certain night he went to seek the Apostle. The Christians, of\nwhom not many remained, had concealed him now carefully even from other\nbrethren, lest any of the weaker in spirit might betray him wittingly or\nunwittingly. Vinicius, amid the general confusion and disaster, occupied\nalso in efforts to get Lygia out of prison, had lost sight of Peter,\nhe had barely seen him once from the time of his own baptism till the\nbeginning of the persecution. But betaking himself to that quarryman\nin whose hut he was baptized, he learned that there would be a meeting\noutside the Porta Salaria in a vineyard which belonged to Cornelius\nPudens. The quarryman offered to guide him, and declared that he would\nfind Peter there. They started about dusk, and, passing beyond the wall,\nthrough hollows overgrown with reeds, reached the vineyard in a wild\nand lonely place. The meeting was held in a wine-shed. As Vinicius drew\nnear, the murmur of prayer reached his ears. On entering he saw by\ndim lamplight a few tens of kneeling figures sunk in prayer. They were\nsaying a kind of litany; a chorus of voices, male and female, repeated\nevery moment, \"Christ have mercy on us.\" In those voices, deep, piercing\nsadness and sorrow were heard.\n\nPeter was present. He was kneeling in front of the others, before a\nwooden cross nailed to the wall of the shed, and was praying. From a\ndistance Vinicius recognized his white hair and his upraised hands. The\nfirst thought of the young patrician was to pass through the assembly,\ncast himself at the Apostle's feet, and cry, \"Save!\" but whether it was\nthe solemnity of the prayer, or because weakness bent the knees under\nVinicius, he began to repeat while he groaned and clasped his hands:\n\"Christ have mercy!\" Had he been conscious, he would have understood\nthat his was not the only prayer in which there was a groan; that he was\nnot the only one who had brought with him his pain, alarm, and grief.\nThere was not in that assembly one soul which had not lost persons dear\nto the heart; and when the most zealous and courageous confessors were\nin prison already, when with every moment new tidings were borne about\nof insults and tortures inflicted on them in the prisons, when the\ngreatness of the calamity exceeded every imagination, when only that\nhandful remained, there was not one heart there which was not terrified\nin its faith, which did not ask doubtfully, Where is Christ? and why\ndoes He let evil be mightier than God? Meanwhile they implored Him\ndespairingly for mercy, since in each soul there still smouldered a\nspark of hope that He would come, hurl Nero into the abyss, and rule the\nworld. They looked yet toward the sky; they listened yet; they prayed\nyet with trembling. Vinicius, too, in proportion as they repeated,\n\"Christ have mercy on us!\" was seized by such an ecstasy as formerly\nin the quarryman's hut. Now from the depths they call on Him in the\nprofoundness of their sorrow, now Peter calls on Him; so any moment the\nheavens may be rent, the earth tremble to its foundations, and He appear\nin infinite glory, with stars at His feet, merciful, but awful. He\nwill raise up the faithful, and command the abysses to swallow the\npersecutors.\n\nVinicius covered his face with both hands, and bowed to the earth.\nImmediately silence was around him, as if fear had stopped further\nbreathing on the lips of all present. And it seemed to him that\nsomething must happen surely, that a moment of miracle would follow. He\nfelt certain that when he rose and opened his eyes he would see a light\nfrom which mortal eyes would be blinded, and hear a voice from which\nhearts would grow faint.\n\nBut the silence was unbroken. It was interrupted at last by the sobbing\nof women. Vinicius rose and looked forward with dazed eyes. In the shed,\ninstead of glories not of earth, shone the faint gleam of lanterns, and\nrays of the moon, entering through an opening in the roof, filled the\nplace with silvery light. The people kneeling around Vinicius raised\ntheir tearful eyes toward the cross in silence; here and there sobbing\nwas heard, and from outside came the warning whistles of watchmen.\nMeanwhile Peter rose, and, turning to the assembly, said,\n\n\"Children, raise your hearts to the Redeemer and offer Him your tears.\"\n\nAfter that he was silent.\n\nAll at once was heard the voice of a woman, full of sorrowful complaint\nand pain,--\n\n\"I am a widow; I had one son who supported me. Give him back, O Lord!\"\nSilence followed again. Peter was standing before the kneeling audience,\nold, full of care. In that moment he seemed to them decrepitude and\nweakness personified. With that a second voice began to complain,\n\n\"Executioners insulted my daughter, and Christ permitted them!\"\n\nThen a third,--\n\n\"I alone have remained to my children, and when I am taken who will give\nthem bread and water?\"\n\nThen a fourth,--\n\n\"Linus, spared at first, they have taken now and put to torture, O\nLord!\"\n\nThen a fifth,\n\n\"When we return to our houses, pretorians will seize us. We know not\nwhere to hide.\"\n\n\"Woe to us! Who will protect us?\"\n\nAnd thus in that silence of the night complaint after complaint was\nheard. The old fisherman closed his eyes and shook his white head over\nthat human pain and fear. New silence followed; the watchman merely gave\nout low whistles beyond the shed.\n\nVinicius sprang up again, so as to break through the crowd to the\nApostle and demand salvation; but on a sudden he saw before him, as it\nwere, a precipice, the sight of which took strength from his feet. What\nif the Apostle were to confess his own weakness, affirm that the Roman\nCæsar was stronger than Christ the Nazarene? And at that thought terror\nraised the hair on his head, for he felt that in such a case not only\nthe remnant of his hope would fall into that abyss, but with it he\nhimself, and all through which he had life, and there would remain only\nnight and death, resembling a shoreless sea.\n\nMeanwhile Peter began to speak in a voice so low at first that it was\nbarely possible to hear him,--\n\n\"My children, on Golgotha I saw them nail God to the cross. I heard\nthe hammers, and I saw them raise the cross on high, so that the rabble\nmight gaze at the death of the Son of Man. I saw them open His side, and\nI saw Him die. When returning from the cross, I cried in pain, as ye are\ncrying, 'Woe! woe! O Lord, Thou art God! Why hast Thou permitted this?\nWhy hast Thou died, and why hast Thou tormented the hearts of us who\nbelieved that Thy kingdom would come?'\n\n\"But He, our Lord and God, rose from the dead the third day, and was\namong us till He entered His kingdom in great glory.\n\n\"And we, seeing our little faith, became strong in heart, and from that\ntime we are sowing His grain.\"\n\nHere, turning toward the place whence the first complaint came, he began\nin a voice now stronger,--\n\n\"Why do ye complain? God gave Himself to torture and death, and ye\nwish Him to shield you from the same. People of little faith, have ye\nreceived His teaching? Has He promised you nothing but life? He comes\nto you and says, 'Follow in my path.' He raises you to Himself, and ye\ncatch at this earth with your hands, crying, 'Lord, save us!' I am dust\nbefore God, but before you I am His apostle and viceregent. I speak\nto you in the name of Christ. Not death is before you, but life; not\ntortures, but endless delights; not tears and groans, but singing; not\nbondage, but rule! I, God's apostle, say this: O widow, thy son will not\ndie; he will be born into glory, into eternal life, and thou wilt\nrejoin him! To thee, O father, whose innocent daughter was defiled by\nexecutioners, I promise that thou shalt find her whiter than the\nlilies of Hebron! To you, mothers, whom they are tearing away from your\norphans; to you who lose fathers; to you who complain; to you who will\nsee the death of loved ones; to you the careworn, the unfortunate, the\ntimid; to you who must die,--in the name of Christ I declare that ye\nwill wake as if from sleep to a happy waking, as if from night to the\nlight of God. In the name of Christ, let the beam fall from your eyes,\nand let your hearts be inflamed.\"\n\nWhen he had said this, he raised his hand as if commanding, and they\nfelt new blood in their veins, and also a quiver in their bones; for\nbefore them was standing, not a decrepit and careworn old man, but a\npotentate, who took their souls and raised them from dust and terror.\n\n\"Amen!\" called a number of voices.\n\nFrom the Apostle's eyes came a light ever increasing, power issued from\nhim, majesty issued from him, and holiness. Heads bent before him, and\nhe, when the \"Amen\" ceased, continued:--\n\n\"Ye sow in tears to reap in joy. Why fear ye the power of evil? Above\nthe earth, above Rome, above the walls of cities is the Lord, who has\ntaken His dwelling within you. The stones will be wet from tears, the\nsand steeped in blood, the valleys will be filled with your bodies, but\nI say that ye are victorious. The Lord is advancing to the conquest of\nthis city of crime, oppression, and pride, and ye are His legions! He\nredeemed with His own blood and torture the sins of the world; so\nHe wishes that ye should redeem with torture and blood this nest of\ninjustice. This He announces to you through my lips.\"\n\nAnd he opened his arms, and fixed his eyes upward; the hearts almost\nceased to beat in their breasts, for they felt that his glance beheld\nsomething which their mortal sight could not see.\n\nIn fact, his face had changed, and was overspread with serenity; he\ngazed some time in silence, as if speechless from ecstasy, but after a\nwhile they heard his voice,--\n\n\"Thou art here, O Lord, and dost show Thy ways to me. True, O Christ!\nNot in Jerusalem, but in this city of Satan wilt Thou fix Thy capital.\nHere out of these tears and this blood dost Thou wish to build Thy\nChurch. Here, where Nero rules to-day, Thy eternal kingdom is to stand.\nThine, O Lord, O Lord! And Thou commandest these timid ones to form\nthe foundation of Thy holy Zion of their bones, and Thou commandest my\nspirit to assume rule over it, and over peoples of the earth. And Thou\nart pouring the fountain of strength on the weak, so that they become\nstrong; and now Thou commandest me to feed Thy sheep from this spot,\nto the end of ages. Oh, be Thou praised in Thy decrees by which Thou\ncommandest to conquer. Hosanna! Hosanna!\"\n\nThose who were timid rose; into those who doubted streams of faith\nflowed. Some voices cried, \"Hosanna!\" others, \"Pro Christo!\" Then\nsilence followed. Bright summer lightning illuminated the interior of\nthe shed, and the pale, excited faces.\n\nPeter, fixed in a vision, prayed a long time yet; but conscious at last,\nhe turned his inspired face, full of light, to the assembly, and said,--\n\n\"This is how the Lord has overcome doubt in you; so ye will go to\nvictory in His name.\"\n\nAnd though he knew that they would conquer, though he knew what would\ngrow out of their tears and blood, still his voice quivered with emotion\nwhen he was blessing them with the cross, and he said,--\n\n\"Now I bless you, my children, as ye go to torture, to death, to\neternity.\"\n\nThey gathered round him and wept. \"We are ready,\" said they; \"but\ndo thou, O holy head, guard thyself, for thou art the viceregent who\nperforms the office of Christ.\"\n\nAnd thus speaking, they seized his mantle; he placed his hands on their\nheads, and blessed each one separately, just as a father does children\nwhom he is sending on a long journey.\n\nAnd they began at once to go out of the shed, for they were in a hurry,\nto their houses, and from them to the prisons and arenas. Their thoughts\nwere separated from the earth, their souls had taken flight toward\neternity, and they walked on as if in a dream, in ecstasy opposing that\nforce which was in them to the force and the cruelty of the \"Beast.\"\n\nNereus, the servant of Pudens, took the Apostle and led him by a secret\npath in the vineyard to his house. But Vinicius followed them in the\nclear night, and when they reached the cottage of Nereus at last, he\nthrew himself suddenly at the feet of the Apostle.\n\n\"What dost thou wish, my Son?\" asked Peter, recognizing him.\n\nAfter what he had heard in the vineyard, Vinicius dared not implore him\nfor anything; but, embracing his feet with both hands, he pressed his\nforehead to them with sobbing, and called for compassion in that dumb\nmanner.\n\n\"I know. They took the maiden whom thou lovest. Pray for her.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" groaned Vinicius, embracing his feet still more firmly,--\"Lord,\nI am a wretched worm; but thou didst know Christ. Implore Him,--take her\npart.\"\n\nAnd from pain he trembled like a leaf; and he beat the earth with his\nforehead, for, knowing the strength of the Apostle, he knew that he\nalone could rescue her.\n\nPeter was moved by that pain. He remembered how on a time Lygia herself,\nwhen attacked by Crispus, lay at his feet in like manner imploring pity.\nHe remembered that he had raised her and comforted her; hence now he\nraised Vinicius.\n\n\"My son,\" said he, \"I will pray for her; but do thou remember that I\ntold those doubting ones that God Himself passed through the torment of\nthe cross, and remember that after this life begins another,--an eternal\none.\"\n\n\"I know; I have heard!\" answered Vinicius, catching the air with his\npale lips; \"but thou seest, lord, that I cannot! If blood is required,\nimplore Christ to take mine,--I am a soldier. Let Him double, let Him\ntriple, the torment intended for her, I will suffer it; but let Him\nspare her. She is a child yet, and He is mightier than Cæsar, I believe,\nmightier. Thou didst love her thyself; thou didst bless us. She is an\ninnocent child yet.\"\n\nAgain he bowed, and, putting his face to Peter's knees, he repeated,--\n\n\"Thou didst know Christ, lord,--thou didst know Him. He will give ear to\nthee; take her part.\"\n\nPeter closed his lids, and prayed earnestly. The summer lightning\nilluminated the sky again. Vinicius, by the light of it, looked at the\nlips of the Apostle, waiting sentence of life or death from them. In the\nsilence quails were heard calling in the vineyard, and the dull, distant\nsound of treadmills near the Via Salaria.\n\n\"Vinicius,\" asked the Apostle at last, \"dost thou believe?\"\n\n\"Would I have come hither if I believed not?\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Then believe to the end, for faith will remove mountains. Hence, though\nthou wert to see that maiden under the sword of the executioner or in\nthe jaws of a lion, believe that Christ can save her. Believe, and pray\nto Him, and I will pray with thee.\"\n\nThen, raising his face toward heaven, he said aloud,--\n\n\"O merciful Christ, look on this aching heart and console it! O merciful\nChrist, temper the wind to the fleece of the lamb! O merciful Christ,\nwho didst implore the Father to turn away the bitter cup from Thy mouth,\nturn it from the mouth of this Thy servant! Amen.\"\n\nBut Vinicius, stretching his hand toward the stars, said, groaning,--\n\n\"I am Thine; take me instead of her.\"\n\nThe sky began to grow pale in the east.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LIII\n\n\nVINICIUS, on leaving the Apostle, went to the prison with a heart\nrenewed by hope. Somewhere in the depth of his soul, despair and\nterror were still crying; but he stifled those voices. It seemed to him\nimpossible that the intercession of the viceregent of God and the power\nof his prayer should be without effect. He feared to hope; he feared to\ndoubt. \"I will believe in His mercy,\" said he to himself, \"even though\nI saw her in the jaws of a lion.\" And at this thought, even though the\nsoul quivered in him and cold sweat drenched his temples, he believed.\nEvery throb of his heart was a prayer then. He began to understand that\nfaith would move mountains, for he felt in himself a wonderful strength,\nwhich he had not felt earlier. It seemed to him that he could do things\nwhich he had not the power to do the day before. At moments he had an\nimpression that the danger had passed. If despair was heard groaning\nagain in his soul, he recalled that night, and that holy gray face\nraised to heaven in prayer.\n\n\"No, Christ will not refuse His first disciple and the pastor of His\nflock! Christ will not refuse him! I will not doubt!\" And he ran toward\nthe prison as a herald of good news.\n\nBut there an unexpected thing awaited him.\n\nAll the pretorian guards taking turn before the Mamertine prison knew\nhim, and generally they raised not the least difficulty; this time,\nhowever, the line did not open, but a centurion approached him and\nsaid,--\n\n\"Pardon, noble tribune, to-day we have a command to admit no one.\"\n\n\"A command?\" repeated Vinicius, growing pale.\n\nThe soldier looked at him with pity, and answered,--\n\n\"Yes, lord, a command of Cæsar. In the prison there are many sick, and\nperhaps it is feared that visitors might spread infection through the\ncity.\"\n\n\"But hast thou said that the order was for to-day only?\"\n\n\"The guards change at noon.\"\n\nVinicius was silent and uncovered his head, for it seemed to him that\nthe pileolus which he wore was of lead.\n\nMeanwhile the soldier approached him, and said in a low voice,\n\n\"Be at rest, lord, the guard and Ursus are watching over her.\" When he\nhad said this, he bent and, in the twinkle of an eye, drew with his long\nGallic sword on the flag stone the form of a fish.\n\nVinicius looked at him quickly.\n\n\"And thou art a pretorian?\"\n\n\"Till I shall be there,\" answered the soldier, pointing to the prison.\n\n\"And I, too, worship Christ.\"\n\n\"May His name be praised! I know, lord, I cannot admit thee to the\nprison, but write a letter, I will give it to the guard.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee, brother.\"\n\nHe pressed the soldier's hand, and went away. The pileolus ceased to\nweigh like lead. The morning sun rose over the walls of the prison, and\nwith its brightness consolation began to enter his heart again. That\nChristian soldier was for him a new witness of the power of Christ.\nAfter a while he halted, and, fixing his glance on the rosy clouds above\nthe Capitol and the temple of Jupiter Stator, he said,--\n\n\"I have not seen her to-day, O Lord, but I believe in Thy mercy.\"\n\nAt the house he found Petronius, who, making day out of night as usual,\nhad returned not long before. He had succeeded, however, in taking his\nbath and anointing himself for sleep.\n\n\"I have news for thee,\" said he. \"To-day I was with Tullius Senecio,\nwhom Cæsar also visited. I know not whence it came to the mind of the\nAugusta to bring little Rufius with her,--perhaps to soften the heart\nof Cæsar by his beauty. Unfortunately, the child, wearied by drowsiness,\nfell asleep during the reading, as Vespasian did once; seeing this,\nAhenobarbus hurled a goblet at his step-son, and wounded him seriously.\nPoppæa fainted; all heard how Cæsar said, 'I have enough of this brood!'\nand that, knowest thou, means as much as death.\"\n\n\"The punishment of God was hanging over the Augusta,\" answered Vinicius;\n\"but why dost thou tell me this?\"\n\n\"I tell thee because the anger of Poppæa pursued thee and Lygia;\noccupied now by her own misfortune, she may leave her vengeance and be\nmore easily influenced. I will see her this evening and talk with her.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee. Thou givest me good news.\"\n\n\"But do thou bathe and rest. Thy lips are blue, and there is not a\nshadow of thee left.\"\n\n\"Is not the time of the first 'ludus matutinus' announced?\" inquired\nVinicius.\n\n\"In ten days. But they will take other prisons first. The more time that\nremains to us the better. All is not lost yet.\"\n\nBut he did not believe this; for he knew perfectly that since to the\nrequest of Aliturus, Cæsar had found the splendidly sounding answer in\nwhich he compared himself to Brutus, there was no rescue for Lygia. He\nhid also, through pity, what he had heard at Senecio's, that Cæsar and\nTigellinus had decided to select for themselves and their friends the\nmost beautiful Christian maidens, and defile them before the torture;\nthe others were to be given, on the day of the games, to pretorians and\nbeast-keepers.\n\nKnowing that Vinicius would not survive Lygia in any case, he\nstrengthened hope in his heart designedly, first, through sympathy\nfor him; and second, because he wished that if Vinicius had to die, he\nshould die beautiful,--not with a face deformed and black from pain and\nwatching.\n\n\"To-day I will speak more or less thus to Augusta,\" said he: \"'Save\nLygia for Vinicius, I will save Ruflus for thee.' And I will think of\nthat seriously.\n\n\"One word spoken to Ahenobarbus at the right moment may save or ruin any\none. In the worst case, we will gain time.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee,\" repeated Vinicius.\n\n\"Thou wilt thank me best if thou eat and sleep. By Athene! In the\ngreatest straits Odysseus had sleep and food in mind. Thou hast spent\nthe whole night in prison, of course?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Vinicius; \"I wished to visit the prison to-day, but there\nis an order to admit no one. Learn, O Petronius, if the order is for\nto-day alone or till the day of the games.\"\n\n\"I will discover this evening, and to-morrow morning will tell thee for\nwhat time and why the order was issued. But now, even were Helios to go\nto Cimmerian regions from sorrow, I shall sleep, and do thou follow my\nexample.\"\n\nThey separated; but Vinicius went to the library and wrote a letter\nto Lygia. When he had finished, he took it himself to the Christian\ncenturion who carried it at once to the prison. After a while he\nreturned with a greeting from Lygia, and promised to deliver her answer\nthat day.\n\nVinicius did not wish to return home, but sat on a stone and waited for\nLygia's letter. The sun had risen high in the heavens, and crowds of\npeople flowed in, as usual, through the Clivus Argentarius to the Forum.\nHucksters called out their wares, soothsayers offered their services to\npassers-by, citizens walked with deliberate steps toward the rostra to\nhear orators of the day, or tell the latest news to one another. As the\nheat increased, crowds of idlers betook themselves to the porticos of\nthe temples, from under which flew from moment to moment, with great\nrustle of wings, flocks of doves, whose white feathers glistened in the\nsunlight and in the blue of the sky.\n\nFrom excess of light and the influence of bustle, heat, and great\nweariness, the eyes of Vinicius began to close. The monotonous calls\nof boys playing mora, and the measured tread of soldiers, lulled him\nto sleep. He raised his head still a number of times, and took in the\nprison with his eyes; then he leaned against a Stone, sighed like a\nchild drowsy after long weeping, and dropped asleep.\n\nSoon dreams came. It seemed to him that he was carrying Lygia in his\narms at night through a strange vineyard. Before him was Pomponia\nGræcina lighting the way with a lamp. A voice, as it were of Petronius\ncalled from afar to him, \"Turn back!\" but he did not mind the call, and\nfollowed Pomponia till they reached a cottage; at the threshold of the\ncottage stood Peter. He showed Peter Lygia, and said, \"We are coming\nfrom the arena, lord, but we cannot wake her; wake her thou.\" \"Christ\nhimself will come to wake her,\" answered the Apostle.\n\nThen the pictures began to change. Through the dream he saw Nero, and\nPoppæa holding in her arms little Ruflus with bleeding head, which\nPetronius was washing and he saw Tigellinus sprinkling ashes on tables\ncovered with costly dishes, and Vitelius devouring those dishes, while a\nmultitude of other Augustians were sitting at the feast. He himself was\nresting near Lygia; but between the tables walked lions from out whose\nyellow manes trickled blood. Lygia begged him to take her away, but so\nterrible a weakness had seized him that he could not even move. Then\nstill greater disorder involved his visions, and finally all fell into\nperfect darkness.\n\nHe was roused from deep sleep at last by the heat of the sun, and shouts\ngiven forth right there around the place where he was sitting. Vinicius\nrubbed his eyes. The street was swarming with people; but two runners,\nwearing yellow tunics, pushed aside the throng with long staffs, crying\nand making room for a splendid litter which was carried by four stalwart\nEgyptian slaves.\n\nIn the litter sat a man in white robes, whose face was not easily\nseen, for he held close to his eyes a roll of papyrus and was reading\nsomething diligently.\n\n\"Make way for the noble Augustian!\" cried the runners.\n\nBut the street was so crowded that the litter had to wait awhile. The\nAugustian put down his roll of papyrus and bent his head, crying,--\n\n\"Push aside those wretches! Make haste!\"\n\nSeeing Vinicius suddenly, he drew back his head and raised the papyrus\nquickly.\n\nVinicius drew his hand across his forehead, thinking that he was\ndreaming yet.\n\nIn the litter was sitting Chilo.\n\nMeanwhile the runners had opened the way, and the Egyptians were ready\nto move, when the young tribune, who in one moment understood many\nthings which till then had been incomprehensible, approached the litter.\n\n\"A greeting to thee, O Chilo!\" said he.\n\n\"Young man,\" answered the Greek, with pride and importance, endeavoring\nto give his face an expression of calmness which was not in his soul,\n\"be greeted, but detain me not, for I am hastening to my friend, the\nnoble Tigellinus.\"\n\nVinicius, grasping the edge of the litter and looking him straight in\nthe eyes, said with a lowered voice,--\n\n\"Didst thou betray Lygia?\"\n\n\"Colossus of Memnon!\" cried Chilo, with fear.\n\nBut there was no threat in the eyes of Vinicius; hence the old Greek's\nalarm vanished quickly. He remembered that he was under the protection\nof Tigellinus and of Cæsar himself,--that is, of a power before which\neverything trembled,--that he was surrounded by sturdy slaves, and that\nVinicius stood before him unarmed, with an emaciated face and body bent\nby suffering.\n\nAt this thought his insolence returned to him. He fixed on Vinicius his\neyes, which were surrounded by red lids, and whispered in answer,--\n\n\"But thou, when I was dying of hunger, didst give command to flog me.\"\n\nFor a moment both were silent; then the dull voice of Vinicius was\nheard,--\n\n\"I wronged thee, Chilo.\"\n\nThe Greek raised his head, and, snapping his fingers which in Rome was a\nmark of slight and contempt, said so loudly that all could hear him,--\n\n\"Friend, if thou hast a petition to present, come to my house on the\nEsquiline in the morning hour, when I receive guests and clients after\nmy bath.\"\n\nAnd he waved his hand; at that sign the Egyptians raised the litter, and\nthe slaves, dressed in yellow tunics, began to cry as they brandished\ntheir staffs,--\n\n\"Make way for the litter of the noble Chilo Chilonides! Make way, make\nway!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LIV\n\n\nLYGIA, in a long letter written hurriedly, took farewell to Vinicius\nforever. She knew that no one was permitted to enter the prison,\nand that she could see Vinicius only from the arena. She begged him\ntherefore to discover when the turn of the Mamertine prisoners would\ncome, and to be at the games, for she wished to see him once more in\nlife. No fear was evident in her letter. She wrote that she and the\nothers were longing for the arena, where they would find liberation\nfrom imprisonment. She hoped for the coming of Pomponia and Aulus; she\nentreated that they too be present. Every word of her showed ecstasy,\nand that separation from life in which all the prisoners lived, and at\nthe same time an unshaken faith that all promises would be fulfilled\nbeyond the grave.\n\n\"Whether Christ,\" wrote she, \"frees me in this life or after death,\nHe has promised me to thee by the lips of the Apostle; therefore I am\nthine.\" She implored him not to grieve for her, and not to let himself\nbe overcome by suffering. For her death was not a dissolution of\nmarriage. With the confidence of a child she assured Vinicius that\nimmediately after her suffering in the arena she would tell Christ that\nher betrothed Marcus had remained in Rome, that he was longing for her\nwith his whole heart. And she thought that Christ would permit her soul,\nperhaps, to return to him for a moment, to tell him that she was living,\nthat she did not remember her torments, and that she was happy. Her\nwhole letter breathed happiness and immense hope. There was only one\nrequest in it connected with affairs of earth,--that Vinicius should\ntake her body from the spoliarium and bury it as that of his wife in the\ntomb in which he himself would rest sometime.\n\nHe read this letter with a suffering spirit, but at the same time it\nseemed to him impossible that Lygia should perish under the claws of\nwild beasts, and that Christ would not take compassion on her. But just\nin that were hidden hope and trust. When he returned home, he wrote\nthat he would come every day to the walls of the Tullianum to wait till\nChrist crushed the walls and restored her. He commanded her to believe\nthat Christ could give her to him, even in the Circus; that the great\nApostle was imploring Him to do so, and that the hour of liberation\nwas near. The converted centurion was to bear this letter to her on the\nmorrow.\n\nBut when Vinicius came to the prison next morning, the centurion left\nthe rank, approached him first, and said,--\n\n\"Listen to me, lord. Christ, who enlightened thee, has shown thee favor.\nLast night Cæsar's freedman and those of the prefect came to select\nChristian maidens for disgrace; they inquired for thy betrothed, but our\nLord sent her a fever, of which prisoners are dying in the Tullianum,\nand they left her. Last evening she was unconscious, and blessed be the\nname of the Redeemer, for the sickness which has saved her from shame\nmay save her from death.\"\n\nVinicius placed his hand on the soldier's shoulder to guard himself from\nfalling; but the other continued,--\n\n\"Thank the mercy of the Lord! They took and tortured Linus, but, seeing\nthat he was dying, they surrendered him. They may give her now to thee,\nand Christ will give back health to her.\"\n\nThe young tribune stood some time with drooping head; then raised it and\nsaid in a whisper,--\n\n\"True, centurion. Christ, who saved her from shame, will save her from\ndeath.\" And sitting at the wall of the prison till evening, he returned\nhome to send people for Linus and have him taken to one of his suburban\nvillas.\n\nBut when Petronius had heard everything, he determined to act also. He\nhad visited the Augusta; now he went to her a second time. He found her\nat the bed of little Rufius. The child with broken head was struggling\nin a fever; his mother, with despair and terror in her heart, was trying\nto save him, thinking, however, that if she did save him it might be\nonly to perish soon by a more dreadful death.\n\nOccupied exclusively with her own suffering, she would not even hear of\nVinicius and Lygia; but Petronius terrified her.\n\n\"Thou hast offended,\" said he to her, \"a new, unknown divinity. Thou,\nAugusta, art a worshipper, it seems, of the Hebrew Jehovah; but the\nChristians maintain that Chrestos is his son. Reflect, then, if the\nanger of the father is not pursuing thee. Who knows but it is their\nvengeance which has struck thee? Who knows but the life of Rufius\ndepends on this,--how thou wilt act?\"\n\n\"What dost thou wish me to do?\" asked Poppæa, with terror.\n\n\"Mollify the offended deities.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Lygia is sick; influence Cæsar or Tigellinus to give her to Vinicius.\"\n\n\"Dost thou think that I can do that?\" asked she, in despair.\n\n\"Thou canst do something else. If Lygia recovers, she must die. Go\nthou to the temple of Vesta, and ask the virgo magna to happen near the\nTullianum at the moment when they are leading prisoners out to death,\nand give command to free that maiden. The chief vestal will not refuse\nthee.\"\n\n\"But if Lygia dies of the fever?\"\n\n\"The Christians say that Christ is vengeful, but just; maybe thou wilt\nsoften Him by thy wish alone.\"\n\n\"Let Him give me some sign that will heal Rufius.\"\n\nPetronius shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"I have not come as His envoy; O divinity, I merely say to thee, Be on\nbetter terms with all the gods, Roman and foreign.\"\n\n\"I will go!\" said Poppæa, with a broken voice.\n\nPetronius drew a deep breath. \"At last I have done something,\" thought\nhe, and returning to Vinicius he said to him,--\n\n\"Implore thy God that Lygia die not of the fever, for should she\nsurvive, the chief vestal will give command to free her. The Augusta\nherself will ask her to do so.\"\n\n\"Christ will free her,\" said Vinicius, looking at him with eyes in which\nfever was glittering.\n\nPoppæa, who for the recovery of Rufius was willing to burn hecatombs to\nall the gods of the world, went that same evening through the Forum to\nthe vestals, leaving care over the sick child to her faithful nurse,\nSilvia, by whom she herself had been reared.\n\nBut on the Palatine sentence had been issued against the child already;\nfor barely had Poppæa's litter vanished behind the great gate when two\nfreedmen entered the chamber in which her son was resting. One of these\nthrew himself on old Silvia and gagged her; the other, seizing a bronze\nstatue of the Sphinx, stunned the old woman with the first blow.\n\nThen they approached Rufius. The little boy, tormented with fever and\ninsensible, not knowing what was passing around him, smiled at them,\nand blinked with his beautiful eyes, as if trying to recognize the men.\nStripping from the nurse her girdle, they put it around his neck and\npulled it. The child called once for his mother, and died easily. Then\nthey wound him in a sheet, and sitting on horses which were waiting,\nhurried to Ostia, where they threw the body into the sea.\n\nPoppæa, not finding the virgo magna, who with other vestals was at the\nhouse of Vatinius, returned soon to the Palatine. Seeing the empty bed\nand the cold body of Silvia, she fainted, and when they restored her she\nbegan to scream; her wild cries were heard all that night and the day\nfollowing.\n\nBut Cæsar commanded her to appear at a feast on the third day; so,\narraying herself in an amethyst-colored tunic, she came and sat with\nstony face, golden-haired, silent, wonderful, and as ominous as an angel\nof death.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LV\n\n\nBEFORE the Flavii had reared the Colosseum, amphitheatres in Rome were\nbuilt of wood mainly; for that reason nearly all of them had burned\nduring the fire. But Nero, for the celebration of the promised games,\nhad given command to build several, and among them a gigantic one, for\nwhich they began, immediately after the fire was extinguished, to bring\nby sea and the Tiber great trunks of trees cut on the slopes of Atlas;\nfor the games were to surpass all previous ones in splendor and the\nnumber of victims.\n\nLarge spaces were given therefore for people and for animals. Thousands\nof mechanics worked at the structure night and day. They built and\nornamented without rest. Wonders were told concerning pillars\ninlaid with bronze, amber, ivory, mother of pearl, and transmarine\ntortoise-shells. Canals filled with ice-cold water from the mountains\nand running along the seats were to keep an agreeable coolness in the\nbuilding, even during the greatest heat. A gigantic purple velarium gave\nshelter from the rays of the sun. Among the rows of seats were disposed\nvessels for the burning of Arabian perfumes; above them were fixed\ninstruments to sprinkle the spectators with dew of saffron and verbena.\nThe renowned builders Severus and Celer put forth all their skill to\nconstruct an amphitheatre at once incomparable and fitted for such a\nnumber of the curious as none of those known before had been able to\naccommodate.\n\nHence, the day when the ludus matutinus was to begin, throngs of the\npopulace were awaiting from daylight the opening of the gates, listening\nwith delight to the roars of lions, the hoarse growls of panthers, and\nthe howls of dogs. The beasts had not been fed for two days, but pieces\nof bloody flesh had been pushed before them to rouse their rage and\nhunger all the more. At times such a storm of wild voices was raised\nthat people standing before the Circus could not converse, and the most\nsensitive grew pale from fear.\n\nWith the rising of the sun were intoned in the enclosure of the Circus\nhymns resonant but calm. The people heard these with amazement, and\nsaid one to another, \"The Christians! the Christians!\" In fact, many\ndetachments of Christians had been brought to the amphitheatre that\nnight, and not from one place, as planned at first, but a few from each\nprison. It was known in the crowd that the spectacles would continue\nthrough weeks and months, but they doubted that it would be possible to\nfinish in a single day those Christians who had been intended for that\none occasion. The voices of men, women, and children singing the morning\nhymn were so numerous that spectators of experience asserted that even\nif one or two hundred persons were sent out at once, the beasts would\ngrow tired, become sated, and not tear all to pieces before evening.\nOthers declared that an excessive number of victims in the arena would\ndivert attention, and not give a chance to enjoy the spectacle properly.\n\nAs the moment drew near for opening the vomitoria, or passages which\nled to the interior, people grew animated and joyous; they discussed\nand disputed about various things touching the spectacle. Parties were\nformed praising the greater efficiency of lions or tigers in tearing.\nHere and there bets were made. Others however talked about gladiators\nwho were to appear in the arena earlier than the Christians; and again\nthere were parties, some in favor of Samnites, others of Gauls, others\nof Mirmillons, others of Thracians, others of the retiarii.\n\nEarly in the morning larger or smaller detachments of gladiators began\nto arrive at the amphitheatre under the lead of masters, called lanistæ.\nNot wishing to be wearied too soon, they entered unarmed, often entirely\nnaked, often with green boughs in their hands, or crowned with flowers,\nyoung, beautiful, in the light of morning, and full of life. Their\nbodies, shining from olive oil, were strong as if chiselled from marble;\nthey roused to delight people who loved shapely forms. Many were known\npersonally, and from moment to moment were heard: \"A greeting, Furnius!\nA greeting, Leo! A greeting, Maximus! A greeting, Diomed!\" Young maidens\nraised to them eyes full of admiration; they, selecting the maiden most\nbeautiful, answered with jests, as if no care weighed on them, sending\nkisses, or exclaiming, \"Embrace me before death does!\" Then they\nvanished in the gates, through which many of them were never to come\nforth again.\n\nNew arrivals drew away the attention of the throngs. Behind the\ngladiators came mastigophori; that is, men armed with scourges, whose\noffice it was to lash and urge forward combatants. Next mules drew, in\nthe direction of the spoliarium, whole rows of vehicles on which were\npiled wooden coffins. People were diverted at sight of this, inferring\nfrom the number of coffins the greatness of the spectacle. Now marched\nin men who were to kill the wounded; these were dressed so that each\nresembled Charon or Mercury. Next came those who looked after order in\nthe Circus, and assigned places; after that slaves to bear around food\nand refreshments; finally, pretorians, whom every Cæsar had always at\nhand in the amphitheatre.\n\nAt last the vomitoria were opened, and crowds rushed to the centre. But\nsuch was the number of those assembled that they flowed in and flowed\nin for hours, till it was a marvel that the Circus could hold such a\ncountless multitude. The roars of wild beasts, catching the exhalations\nof people, grew louder. While taking their places, the spectators made\nan uproar like the sea in time of storm.\n\nFinally, the prefect of the city came, surrounded by guards; and after\nhim, in unbroken line, appeared the litters of senators, consuls,\npretors, ediles, officials of the government and the palace, of\npretorian officers, patricians, and exquisite ladies. Some litters were\npreceded by lictors bearing maces in bundles of rods; others by crowds\nof slaves. In the sun gleamed the gilding of the litters, the white and\nvaried colored stuffs, feathers, earrings, jewels, steel of the\nmaces. From the Circus came shouts with which the people greeted great\ndignitaries. Small divisions of pretorians arrived from time to time.\n\nThe priests of various temples came somewhat later; only after them were\nbrought in the sacred virgins of Vesta, preceded by lictors.\n\nTo begin the spectacle, they were waiting now only for Cæsar, who,\nunwilling to expose the people to over-long waiting, and wishing to\nwin them by promptness, came soon, in company with the Augusta and\nAugustians.\n\nPetronius arrived among the Augustians, having Vinicius in his litter.\nThe latter knew that Lygia was sick and unconscious; but as access to\nthe prison had been forbidden most strictly during the preceding days,\nand as the former guards had been replaced by new ones who were not\npermitted to speak with the jailers or even to communicate the least\ninformation to those who came to inquire about prisoners, he was not\neven sure that she was not among the victims intended for the first\nday of spectacles. They might send out even a sick woman for the lions,\nthough she were unconscious. But since the victims were to be sewed up\nin skins of wild beasts and sent to the arena in crowds, no spectator\ncould be certain that one more or less might not be among them, and no\nman could recognize any one. The jailers and all the servants of the\namphitheatre had been bribed, and a bargain made with the beast-keepers\nto hide Lygia in some dark corner, and give her at night into the hands\nof a confidant of Vinicius, who would take her at once to the Alban\nHills. Petronius, admitted to the secret, advised Vinicius to go with\nhim openly to the amphitheatre, and after he had entered to disappear in\nthe throng and hurry to the vaults, where, to avoid possible mistake, he\nwas to point out Lygia to the guards personally.\n\nThe guards admitted him through a small door by which they came\nout themselves. One of these, named Cyrus, led him at once to the\nChristians. On the way he said,--\n\n\"I know not, lord, that thou wilt find what thou art seeking. We\ninquired for a maiden named Lygia, but no one gave us answer; it may be,\nthough, that they do not trust us.\"\n\n\"Are there many?\" asked Vinicius.\n\n\"Many, lord, had to wait till to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Are there sick ones among them?\"\n\n\"There were none who could not stand.\"\n\nCyrus opened a door and entered as it were an enormous chamber, but\nlow and dark, for the light came in only through grated openings which\nseparated it from the arena. At first Vinicius could see nothing; he\nheard only the murmur of voices in the room, and the shouts of people in\nthe amphitheatre. But after a time, when his eyes had grown used to the\ngloom, he saw crowds of strange beings, resembling wolves and bears.\nThose were Christians sewed up in skins of beasts. Some of them were\nstanding; others were kneeling in prayer. Here and there one might\ndivine by the long hair flowing over the skin that the victim was a\nwoman. Women, looking like wolves, carried in their arms children sewed\nup in equally shaggy coverings. But from beneath the skins appeared\nbright faces and eyes which in the darkness gleamed with delight and\nfeverishness. It was evident that the greater number of those people\nwere mastered by one thought, exclusive and beyond the earth,--a thought\nwhich during life made them indifferent to everything which happened\naround them and which could meet them. Some, when asked by Vinicius\nabout Lygia, looked at him with eyes as if roused from sleep, without\nanswering his questions; others smiled at him, placing a finger on their\nlips or pointing to the iron grating through which bright streaks of\nlight entered. But here and there children were crying, frightened by\nthe roaring of beasts, the howling of dogs, the uproar of people, and\nthe forms of their own parents who looked like wild beasts. Vinicius as\nhe walked by the side of Cyrus looked into faces, searched, inquired, at\ntimes stumbled against bodies of people who had fainted from the crowd,\nthe stifling air, the heat, and pushed farther into the dark depth of\nthe room, which seemed to be as spacious as a whole amphitheatre.\n\nBut he stopped on a sudden, for he seemed to hear near the grating\na voice known to him. He listened for a while, turned, and, pushing\nthrough the crowd, went near. Light fell on the face of the speaker,\nand Vinicius recognized under the skin of a wolf the emaciated and\nimplacable countenance of Crispus.\n\n\"Mourn for your sins!\" exclaimed Crispus, \"for the moment is near. But\nwhoso thinks by death itself to redeem his sins commits a fresh sin, and\nwill be hurled into endless fire. With every sin committed in life ye\nhave renewed the Lord's suffering; how dare ye think that that life\nwhich awaits you will redeem this one? To-day the just and the sinner\nwill die the same death; but the Lord will find His own. Woe to you, the\nclaws of the lions will rend your bodies; but not your sins, nor your\nreckoning with God. The Lord showed mercy sufficient when He let Himself\nbe nailed to the cross; but thenceforth He will be only the judge,\nwho will leave no fault unpunished. Whoso among you has thought to\nextinguish his sins by suffering, has blasphemed against God's justice,\nand will sink all the deeper. Mercy is at an end, and the hour of God's\nwrath has come. Soon ye will stand before the awful Judge in whose\npresence the good will hardly be justified. Bewail your sins, for the\njaws of hell are open; woe to you, husbands and wives; woe to you,\nparents and children.\"\n\nAnd stretching forth his bony hands, he shook them above the bent heads;\nhe was unterrified and implacable even in the presence of death, to\nwhich in a while all those doomed people were to go. After his words,\nwere heard voices: \"We bewail our sins!\" Then came silence, and only the\ncry of children was audible, and the beating of hands against breasts.\n\nThe blood of Vinicius stiffened in his veins. He, who had placed all his\nhope in the mercy of Christ, heard now that the day of wrath had come,\nand that even death in the arena would not obtain mercy. Through his\nhead shot, it is true, the thought, clear and swift as lightning, that\nPeter would have spoken otherwise to those about to die. Still those\nterrible words of Crispus filled with fanaticism that dark chamber with\nits grating, beyond which was the field of torture. The nearness of that\ntorture, and the throng of victims arrayed for death already, filled\nhis soul with fear and terror. All this seemed to him dreadful, and a\nhundred times more ghastly than the bloodiest battle in which he had\never taken part. The odor and heat began to stifle him; cold sweat came\nout on his forehead. He was seized by fear that he would faint like\nthose against whose bodies he had stumbled while searching in the depth\nof the apartment; so when he remembered that they might open the grating\nany moment, he began to call Lygia and Ursus aloud, in the hope that, if\nnot they, some one knowing them would answer.\n\nIn fact, some man, clothed as a bear, pulled his toga, and said,--\n\n\"Lord, they remained in prison. I was the last one brought out; I saw\nher sick on the couch.\"\n\n\"Who art thou?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"The quarryman in whose hut the Apostle baptized thee, lord. They\nimprisoned me three days ago, and to-day I die.\"\n\nVinicius was relieved. When entering, he had wished to find Lygia; now\nhe was ready to thank Christ that she was not there, and to see in that\na sign of mercy. Meanwhile the quarryman pulled his toga again, and\nsaid,--\n\n\"Dost remember, lord, that I conducted thee to the vineyard of\nCornelius, when the Apostle discoursed in the shed?\"\n\n\"I remember.\"\n\n\"I saw him later, the day before they imprisoned me, He blessed me, and\nsaid that he would come to the amphitheatre to bless the perishing. If I\ncould look at him in the moment of death and see the sign of the cross,\nit would be easier for me to die. If thou know where he is, lord, inform\nme.\"\n\nVinicius lowered his voice, and said,--\n\n\"He is among the people of Petronius, disguised as a slave. I know not\nwhere they chose their places, but I will return to the Circus and see.\nLook thou at me when ye enter the arena. I will rise and turn my face\ntoward them; then thou wilt find him with thy eyes.\"\n\n\"Thanks to thee, lord, and peace be with thee.\"\n\n\"May the Redeemer be merciful to thee.\"\n\n\"Amen.\"\n\nVinicius went out of the cuniculum, and betook himself to the\namphitheatre, where he had a place near Petronius among the other\nAugustians.\n\n\"Is she there?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"No; she remained in prison.\"\n\n\"Hear what has occurred to me, but while listening look at Nigidia for\nexample, so that we may seem to talk of her hair-dressing. Tigellinus\nand Chilo are looking at us now. Listen then. Let them put Lygia in\na coffin at night and carry her out of the prison as a corpse; thou\ndivinest the rest?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Vinicius.\n\nTheir further conversation was interrupted by Tullius Senecio, who,\nbending toward them, asked,--\n\n\"Do ye know whether they will give weapons to the Christians?\"\n\n\"We do not,\" answered Petronius. \"I should prefer that arms were given,\"\nsaid Tullius; \"if not, the arena will become like butcher's shambles too\nearly. But what a splendid amphitheatre!\"\n\nThe sight was, in truth, magnificent. The lower seats, crowded with\ntogas were as white as snow. In the gilded podium sat Cæsar, wearing\na diamond collar and a golden crown on his head; next to him sat the\nbeautiful and gloomy Augusta, and on both sides were vestal virgins,\ngreat officials, senators with embroidered togas, officers of the army\nwith glittering weapons,--in a word, all that was powerful, brilliant,\nand wealthy in Rome. In the farther rows sat knights; and higher up\ndarkened in rows a sea of common heads, above which from pillar to\npillar hung festoons of roses, lilies, ivy, and grapevines.\n\nPeople conversed aloud, called to one another, sang; at times they broke\ninto laughter at some witty word which was sent from row to row, and\nthey stamped with impatience to hasten the spectacle.\n\nAt last the stamping became like thunder, and unbroken. Then the prefect\nof the city, who rode around the arena with a brilliant retinue, gave\na signal with a handkerchief, which was answered throughout the\namphitheatre by \"A-a-a!\" from thousands of breasts.\n\nUsually a spectacle was begun by hunts of wild beasts, in which various\nNorthern and Southern barbarians excelled; but this time they had too\nmany beasts, so they began with andabates,--that is, men wearing helmets\nwithout an opening for the eyes, hence fighting blindfold. A number of\nthese came into the arena together, and slashed at random with their\nswords; the scourgers with long forks pushed some toward others to make\nthem meet. The more select of the audience looked with contempt and\nindifference at this spectacle; but the crowd were amused by the awkward\nmotions of the swordsmen. When it happened that they met with their\nshoulders, they burst out in loud laughter. \"To the right!\" \"To the\nleft!\" cried they, misleading the opponents frequently by design. A\nnumber of pairs closed, however, and the struggle began to be bloody.\nThe determined combatants cast aside their shields, and giving their\nleft hands to each other, so as not to part again, struggled to the\ndeath with their right. Whoever fell raised his fingers, begging mercy\nby that sign; but in the beginning of a spectacle the audience demanded\ndeath usually for the wounded, especially in the case of men who had\ntheir faces covered and were unknown. Gradually the number of combatants\ndecreased; and when at last only two remained, these were pushed\ntogether; both fell on the sand, and stabbed each other mutually. Then,\namid cries of \"Peractum est!\" servants carried out the bodies, youths\nraked away the bloody traces on the sand and sprinkled it with leaves of\nsaffron.\n\nNow a more important contest was to come,--rousing interest not only in\nthe herd, but in exquisites; during this contest young patricians made\nenormous bets at times, often losing all they owned. Straightway from\nhand to hand went tablets on which were written names of favorites, and\nalso the number of sestertia which each man wagered on his favorite.\n\"Spectati\"--that is, champions who had appeared already on the arena\nand gained victories--found most partisans; but among betters were\nalso those who risked considerably on gladiators who were new and quite\nunknown, hoping to win immense sums should these conquer. Cæsar himself\nbet; priests, vestals, senators, knights bet; the populace bet. People\nof the crowd, when money failed them, bet their own freedom frequently.\nThey waited with heart-beating and even with fear for the combatants,\nand more than one made audible vows to the gods to gain their protection\nfor a favorite.\n\nIn fact, when the shrill sound of trumpets was heard, there was a\nstillness of expectation in the amphitheatre. Thousands of eyes were\nturned to the great bolts, which a man approached dressed like Charon,\nand amid the universal silence struck three times with a hammer, as if\nsummoning to death those who were hidden behind them. Then both\nhalves of the gate opened slowly, showing a black gully, out of which\ngladiators began to appear in the bright arena. They came in divisions\nof twenty-five, Thracians, Mirmillons, Samnites, Gauls, each nation\nseparately, all heavily armed; and last the retiarii, holding in one\nhand a net, in the other a trident. At sight of them, here and there\non the benches rose applause, which soon turned into one immense and\nunbroken storm. From above to below were seen excited faces, clapping\nhands, and open mouths, from which shouts burst forth. The gladiators\nencircled the whole arena with even and springy tread, gleaming with\ntheir weapons and rich outfit; they halted before Cæsar's podium, proud,\ncalm, and brilliant. The shrill sound of a horn stopped the applause;\nthe combatants stretched their right hands upward, raised their eyes and\nheads toward Cæsar, and began to cry or rather to chant with drawling\nvoice,--\n\n\"Ave, Cæsar imperator! Morituri te salutant!\"\n\nThen they pushed apart quickly, occupying their places on the arena.\nThey were to attack one another in whole detachments; but first it was\npermitted the most famous fencers to have a series of single combats,\nin which the strength, dexterity, and courage of opponents were best\nexhibited. In fact, from among the Gauls appeared a champion, well known\nto lovers of the amphitheatre under the name of Lanio, a victor in many\ngames. With a great helmet on his head, and in mail which formed a ridge\nin front of his powerful breast and behind, he looked in the gleam\nof the golden arena like a giant beetle. The no less famous retiarius\nCalendio came out against him.\n\nAmong the spectators people began to bet.\n\n\"Five hundred sestertia on the Gaul!\"\n\n\"Five hundred on Calendio!\"\n\n\"By Hercules, one thousand!\"\n\n\"Two thousand!\"\n\nMeanwhile the Gaul, reaching the centre of the arena, began to withdraw\nwith pointed sword, and, lowering his head, watched his opponent\ncarefully through the opening of his visor; the light retiarius,\nstately, statuesque, wholly naked save a belt around his loins, circled\nquickly about his heavy antagonist, waving the net with graceful\nmovement, lowering or raising his trident, and singing the usual song of\nthe retiarius,--\n\n\"Non te peto, piscem peto; Quid me fugis, Galle?\"\n\n[\"I seek not thee, I seek a fish; Why flee from me O Gaul?\"]\n\nBut the Gaul was not fleeing, for after a while he stopped, and standing\nin one place began to turn with barely a slight movement, so as to have\nhis enemy always in front, in his form and monstrously large head there\nwas now something terrible. The spectators understood perfectly that\nthat heavy body encased in bronze was preparing for a sudden throw to\ndecide the battle. The retiarius meanwhile sprang up to him, then sprang\naway, making with his three-toothed fork motions so quick that the eye\nhardly followed them. The sound of the teeth on the shield was heard\nrepeatedly; but the Gaul did not quiver, giving proof by this of his\ngigantic strength. All his attention seemed fixed, not on the trident,\nbut the net which was circling above his head, like a bird of ill\nomen. The spectators held the breath in their breasts, and followed the\nmasterly play of the gladiators. The Gaul waited, chose the moment, and\nrushed at last on his enemy; the latter with equal quickness shot past\nunder his sword, straightened himself with raised arm, and threw the\nnet.\n\nThe Gaul, turning where he stood, caught it on his shield; then both\nsprang apart. In the amphitheatre shouts of \"Macte!\" thundered; in the\nlower rows they began to make new bets. Cæsar himself, who at first had\nbeen talking with Rubria, and so far had not paid much attention to the\nspectacle, turned his head toward the arena.\n\nThey began to struggle again, so regularly and with such precision in\ntheir movements, that sometimes it seemed that with them it was not a\nquestion of life or death, but of exhibiting skill. The Gaul escaping\ntwice more from the net, pushed toward the edge of the arena; those who\nheld bets against him, not wishing the champion to rest, began to cry,\n\"Bear on!\" The Gaul obeyed, and attacked. The arm of the retiarius was\ncovered on a sudden with blood, and his net dropped. The Gaul summoned\nhis strength, and sprang forward to give the final blow. That instant\nCalendio, who feigned inability to wield the net, sprang aside, escaped\nthe thrust, ran the trident between the knees of his opponent, and\nbrought him to the earth.\n\nThe Gaul tried to rise, but in a twinkle he was covered by the fatal\nmeshes, in which he was entangled more and more by every movement of his\nfeet and hands. Meanwhile stabs of the trident fixed him time after time\nto the earth. He made one more effort, rested on his arm, and tried to\nrise; in vain! He raised to his head his falling hand which could hold\nthe sword no longer, and fell on his back. Calendio pressed his neck to\nthe ground with the trident, and, resting both hands on the handle of\nit, turned toward Cæsar's box.\n\nThe whole Circus was trembling from plaudits and the roar of people. For\nthose who had bet on Calendio he was at that moment greater than Cæsar;\nbut for this very reason animosity against the Gaul vanished from their\nhearts. At the cost of his blood he had filled their purses. The voices\nof the audience were divided. On the upper seats half the signs were for\ndeath, and half for mercy; but the retiarius looked only at the box of\nCæsar and the vestals, waiting for what they would decide.\n\nTo the misfortune of the fallen gladiator, Nero did not like him, for at\nthe last games before the fire he had bet against the Gaul, and had\nlost considerable sums to Licinus; hence he thrust his hand out of the\npodium, and turned his thumb toward the earth.\n\nThe vestals supported the sign at once. Calendio knelt on the breast\nof the Gaul, drew a short knife from his belt, pushed apart the armor\naround the neck of his opponent, and drove the three-edged blade into\nhis throat to the handle.\n\n\"Peractum est!\" sounded voices in the amphitheatre.\n\nThe Gaul quivered a time, like a stabbed bullock, dug the sand with his\nheels, stretched, and was motionless.\n\nMercury had no need to try with heated iron if he were living yet. He\nwas hidden away quickly, and other pairs appeared. After them came a\nbattle of whole detachments. The audience took part in it with soul,\nheart, and eyes. They howled, roared, whistled, applauded, laughed,\nurged on the combatants, grew wild. The gladiators on the arena, divided\ninto two legions, fought with the rage of wild beasts; breast struck\nbreast, bodies were intertwined in a death grapple, strong limbs cracked\nin their joints, swords were buried in breasts and in stomachs, pale\nlips threw blood on to the sand. Toward the end such terrible fear\nseized some novices that, tearing themselves from the turmoil, they\nfled; but the scourgers drove them back again quickly to the battle with\nlashes tipped with lead. On the sand great dark spots were formed; more\nand more naked and armed bodies lay stretched like grain sheaves. The\nliving fought on the corpses; they struck against armor and shields,\ncut their feet against broken weapons, and fell. The audience lost\nself-command from delight; and intoxicated with death breathed it,\nsated their eyes with the sight of it, and drew into their lungs the\nexhalations of it with ecstasy.\n\nThe conquered lay dead, almost every man. Barely a few wounded knelt\nin the middle of the arena, and trembling stretched their hands to\nthe audience with a prayer for mercy. To the victors were given\nrewards,--crowns, olive wreaths. And a moment of rest came, which, at\ncommand of the all-powerful Cæsar, was turned into a feast. Perfumes\nwere burned in vases. Sprinklers scattered saffron and violet rain on\nthe people. Cooling drinks were served, roasted meats, sweet cakes,\nwine, olives, and fruits. The people devoured, talked, and shouted in\nhonor of Cæsar, to incline him to greater bounteousness. When hunger and\nthirst had been satisfied, hundreds of slaves bore around baskets full\nof gifts, from which boys, dressed as Cupids, took various objects and\nthrew them with both hands among the seats. When lottery tickets\nwere distributed, a battle began. People crowded, threw, trampled\none another; cried for rescue, sprang over rows of seats, stifled one\nanother in the terrible crush, since whoever got a lucky number might\nwin possibly a house with a garden, a slave, a splendid dress, or a wild\nbeast which he could sell to the amphitheatre afterward. For this\nreason there were such disorders that frequently the pretorians had to\ninterfere; and after every distribution they carried out people with\nbroken arms or legs, and some were even trampled to death in the throng.\n\nBut the more wealthy took no part in the fight for tesseræ. The\nAugustians amused themselves now with the spectacle of Chilo, and with\nmaking sport of his vain efforts to show that he could look at fighting\nand blood-spilling as well as any man. But in vain did the unfortunate\nGreek wrinkle his brow, gnaw his lips, and squeeze his fists till the\nnails entered his palms. His Greek nature and his personal cowardice\nwere unable to endure such sights. His face grew pale, his forehead was\ndotted with drops of sweat, his lips were blue, his eyes turned in, his\nteeth began to chatter, and a trembling seized his body. At the end\nof the battle he recovered somewhat; but when they attacked him with\ntongues, sudden anger seized him, and he defended himself desperately.\n\n\"Ha, Greek! the sight of torn skin on a man is beyond thy strength!\"\nsaid Vatinius, taking him by the beard.\n\nChilo bared his last two yellow teeth at him and answered,--\n\n\"My father was not a cobbler, so I cannot mend it.\"\n\n\"Macte! habet (Good! he has caught it!)\" called a number of voices; but\nothers jeered on.\n\n\"He is not to blame that instead of a heart he has a piece of cheese in\nhis breast,\" said Senecio.\n\n\"Thou art not to blame that instead of a head thou hast a bladder,\"\nretorted Chilo.\n\n\"Maybe thou wilt become a gladiator! thou wouldst look well with a net\non the arena.\"\n\n\"If I should catch thee in it, I should catch a stinking hoopoe.\"\n\n\"And how will it be with the Christians?\" asked Festus, from Liguria.\n\"Wouldst thou not like to be a dog and bite them?\"\n\n\"I should not like to be thy brother.\"\n\n\"Thou Mæotian copper-nose!\"\n\n\"Thou Ligurian mule!\"\n\n\"Thy skin is itching, evidently, but I don't advise thee to ask me to\nscratch it.\"\n\n\"Scratch thyself. If thou scratch thy own pimple, thou wilt destroy what\nis best in thee.\"\n\nAnd in this manner they attacked him. He defended himself venomously,\namid universal laughter. Cæsar, clapping his hands, repeated, \"Macte!\"\nand urged them on. After a while Petronius approached, and, touching the\nGreek's shoulder with his carved ivory cane, said coldly,--\n\n\"This is well, philosopher; but in one thing thou hast blundered: the\ngods created thee a pickpocket, and thou hast become a demon. That is\nwhy thou canst not endure.\"\n\nThe old man looked at him with his red eyes, but this time somehow he\ndid not find a ready insult. He was silent for a moment; then answered,\nas if with a certain effort,--\n\n\"I shall endure.\"\n\nMeanwhile the trumpets announced the end of the interval. People began\nto leave the passages where they had assembled to straighten their legs\nand converse. A general movement set in with the usual dispute about\nseats occupied previously. Senators and patricians hastened to their\nplaces. The uproar ceased after a time, and the amphitheatre returned to\norder. On the arena a crowd of people appeared whose work was to dig out\nhere and there lumps of sand formed with stiffened blood.\n\nThe turn of the Christians was at hand. But since that was a new\nspectacle for people, and no one knew how the Christians would bear\nthemselves, all waited with a certain curiosity. The disposition of the\naudience was attentive but unfriendly; they were waiting for uncommon\nscenes. Those people who were to appear had burned Rome and its ancient\ntreasures. They had drunk the blood of infants, and poisoned water; they\nhad cursed the whole human race, and committed the vilest crimes. The\nharshest punishment did not suffice the roused hatred; and if any\nfear possessed people's hearts, it was this: that the torture of the\nChristians would not equal the guilt of those ominous criminals.\n\nMeanwhile the sun had risen high; its rays, passing through the purple\nvelarium, had filled the amphitheatre with blood-colored light. The sand\nassumed a fiery hue, and in those gleams, in the faces of people, as\nwell as in the empty arena, which after a time was to be filled with\nthe torture of people and the rage of savage beasts, there was something\nterrible. Death and terror seemed hovering in the air. The throng,\nusually gladsome, became moody under the influence of hate and silence.\nFaces had a sullen expression.\n\nNow the prefect gave a sign. The same old man appeared, dressed as\nCharon, who had called the gladiators to death, and, passing with slow\nstep across the arena amid silence, he struck three times again on the\ndoor.\n\nThroughout the amphitheatre was heard the deep murmur,--\n\n\"The Christians! the Christians!\"\n\nThe iron gratings creaked; through the dark openings were heard the\nusual cries of the scourgers, \"To the sand!\" and in one moment the arena\nwas peopled with crowds as it were of satyrs covered with skins. All ran\nquickly, somewhat feverishly, and, reaching the middle of the circle,\nthey knelt one by another with raised heads. The spectators, judging\nthis to be a prayer for pity, and enraged by such cowardice, began to\nstamp, whistle, throw empty wine-vessels, bones from which the flesh\nhad been eaten, and shout, \"The beasts! the beasts!\" But all at once\nsomething unexpected took place. From out the shaggy assembly singing\nvoices were raised, and then sounded that hymn heard for the first time\nin a Roman amphitheatre, \"Christus regnat!\" [\"Christ reigns!\"]\n\nAstonishment seized the spectators. The condemned sang with eyes raised\nto the velarium. The audience saw faces pale, but as it were inspired.\nAll understood that those people were not asking for mercy, and that\nthey seemed not to see the Circus, the audience, the Senate, or Cæsar.\n\"Christus regnat!\" rose ever louder, and in the seats, far up to the\nhighest, among the rows of spectators, more than one asked himself the\nquestion, \"What is happening, and who is that Christus who reigns in\nthe mouths of those people who are about to die?\" But meanwhile a\nnew grating was opened, and into the arena rushed, with mad speed and\nbarking, whole packs of dogs,--gigantic, yellow Molossians from the\nPeloponnesus, pied dogs from the Pyrenees, and wolf-like hounds\nfrom Hibernia, purposely famished; their sides lank, and their eyes\nbloodshot. Their howls and whines filled the amphitheatre. When the\nChristians had finished their hymn, they remained kneeling, motionless,\nas if petrified, merely repeating in one groaning chorus, \"Pro Christo!\nPro Christo!\" The dogs, catching the odor of people under the skins of\nbeasts, and surprised by their silence, did not rush on them at once.\nSome stood against the walls of the boxes, as if wishing to go among the\nspectators; others ran around barking furiously, as though chasing some\nunseen beast. The people were angry. A thousand voices began to call;\nsome howled like wild beasts; some barked like dogs; others urged them\non in every language. The amphitheatre was trembling from uproar. The\nexcited dogs began to run to the kneeling people, then to draw back,\nsnapping their teeth, till at last one of the Molossians drove his teeth\ninto the shoulder of a woman kneeling in front, and dragged her under\nhim.\n\nTens of dogs rushed into the crowd now, as if to break through it. The\naudience ceased to howl, so as to look with greater attention. Amidst\nthe howling and whining were heard yet plaintive voices of men and\nwomen: \"Pro Christo! Pro Christo!\" but on the arena were formed\nquivering masses of the bodies of dogs and people. Blood flowed in\nstreams from the torn bodies. Dogs dragged from each other the bloody\nlimbs of people. The odor of blood and torn entrails was stronger than\nArabian perfumes, and filled the whole Circus.\n\nAt last only here and there were visible single kneeling forms, which\nwere soon covered by moving squirming masses.\n\nVinicius, who at the moment when the Christians ran in, stood up and\nturned so as to indicate to the quarryman, as he had promised, the\ndirection in which the Apostle was hidden among the people of Petronius,\nsat down again, and with the face of a dead man continued to look with\nglassy eyes on the ghastly spectacle. At first fear that the quarryman\nmight have been mistaken, and that perchance Lygia was among the\nvictims, benumbed him completely; but when he heard the voices, \"Pro\nChristo!\" when he saw the torture of so many victims who, in dying,\nconfessed their faith and their God, another feeling possessed him,\npiercing him like the most dreadful pain, but irresistible. That feeling\nwas this,--if Christ Himself died in torment, if thousands are perishing\nfor Him now, if a sea of blood is poured forth, one drop more signifies\nnothing, and it is a sin even to ask for mercy. That thought came to him\nfrom the arena, penetrated him with the groans of the dying, with the\nodor of their blood. But still he prayed and repeated with parched lips,\n\"O Christ! O Christ! and Thy Apostle prayed for her!\" Then he forgot\nhimself, lost consciousness of where he was. It seemed to him that blood\non the arena was rising and rising, that it was coming up and flowing\nout of the Circus over all Rome. For the rest he heard nothing, neither\nthe howling of dogs nor the uproar of the people nor the voices of the\nAugustians, who began all at once to cry,--\n\n\"Chilo has fainted!\"\n\n\"Chilo has fainted!\" said Petronius, turning toward the Greek.\n\nAnd he had fainted really; he sat there white as linen, his head fallen\nback, his mouth wide open, like that of a corpse.\n\nAt that same moment they were urging into the arena new victims, sewed\nup in skins.\n\nThese knelt immediately, like those who had gone before; but the weary\ndogs would not rend them. Barely a few threw themselves on to those\nkneeling nearest; but others lay down, and, raising their bloody jaws,\nbegan to scratch their sides and yawn heavily.\n\nThen the audience, disturbed in spirit, but drunk with blood and wild,\nbegan to cry with hoarse voices,--\n\n\"The lions! the lions! Let out the lions!\"\n\nThe lions were to be kept for the next day; but in the amphitheatres the\npeople imposed their will on every one, even on Cæsar. Caligula alone,\ninsolent and changeable in his wishes, dared to oppose them, and there\nwere cases when he gave command to beat the people with clubs; but even\nhe yielded most frequently. Nero, to whom plaudits were dearer than all\nelse in the world, never resisted. All the more did he not resist now,\nwhen it was a question of mollifying the populace, excited after the\nconflagration, and a question of the Christians, on whom he wished to\ncast the blame of the catastrophe.\n\nHe gave the sign therefore to open the cuniculum, seeing which, the\npeople were calmed in a moment. They heard the creaking of the doors\nbehind which were the lions. At sight of the lions the dogs gathered\nwith low whines, on the opposite side of the arena. The lions walked\ninto the arena one after another, immense, tawny, with great shaggy\nheads. Cæsar himself turned his wearied face toward them, and placed\nthe emerald to his eye to see better. The Augustians greeted them with\napplause; the crowd counted them on their fingers, and followed eagerly\nthe impression which the sight of them would make on the Christians\nkneeling in the centre, who again had begun to repeat the words, without\nmeaning for many, though annoying to all, \"Pro Christo! Pro Christo!\"\n\nBut the lions, though hungry, did not hasten to their victims. The ruddy\nlight in the arena dazzled them and they half closed their eyes as if\ndazed. Some stretched their yellowish bodies lazily; some, opening\ntheir jaws, yawned,--one might have said that they wanted to show their\nterrible teeth to the audience. But later the odor of blood and torn\nbodies, many of which were lying on the sand, began to act on them. Soon\ntheir movements became restless, their manes rose, their nostrils drew\nin the air with hoarse sound. One fell suddenly on the body of a woman\nwith a torn face, and, lying with his fore paws on the body, licked with\na rough tongue the stiffened blood: another approached a man who was\nholding in his arms a child sewed up in a fawn's skin.\n\nThe child, trembling from crying, and weeping, clung convulsively to the\nneck of its father; he, to prolong its life even for a moment, tried to\npull it from his neck, so as to hand it to those kneeling farther on.\nBut the cry and the movement irritated the lion. All at once he gave\nout a short, broken roar, killed the child with one blow of his paw, and\nseizing the head of the father in his jaws, crushed it in a twinkle.\n\nAt sight of this all the other lions fell upon the crowd of Christians.\nSome women could not restrain cries of terror; but the audience drowned\nthese with plaudits, which soon ceased, however, for the wish to see\ngained the mastery. They beheld terrible things then: heads disappearing\nentirely in open jaws, breasts torn apart with one blow, hearts and\nlungs swept away; the crushing of bones under the teeth of lions.\nSome lions, seizing victims by the ribs or loins, ran with mad springs\nthrough the arena, as if seeking hidden places in which to devour\nthem; others fought, rose on their hind legs, grappled one another like\nwrestlers, and filled the amphitheatre with thunder. People rose\nfrom their places. Some left their seats, went down lower through the\npassages to see better, and crowded one another mortally. It seemed that\nthe excited multitude would throw itself at last into the arena, and\nrend the Christians in company with the lions. At moments an unearthly\nnoise was heard; at moments applause; at moments roaring, rumbling, the\nclashing of teeth, the howling of Molossian dogs; at times only groans.\n\nCæsar, holding the emerald to his eye, looked now with attention. The\nface of Petronius assumed an expression of contempt and disgust. Chilo\nhad been borne out of the Circus.\n\nBut from the cuniculum new victims were driven forth continually.\n\nFrom the highest row in the amphitheatre the Apostle Peter looked at\nthem. No one saw him, for all heads were turned to the arena; so he rose\nand as formerly in the vineyard of Cornelius he had blessed for death\nand eternity those who were intended for imprisonment, so now he blessed\nwith the cross those who were perishing under the teeth of wild beasts.\nHe blessed their blood, their torture, their dead bodies turned into\nshapeless masses, and their souls flying away from the bloody sand. Some\nraised their eyes to him, and their faces grew radiant; they smiled when\nthey saw high above them the sign of the cross. But his heart was rent,\nand he said, \"O Lord! let Thy will be done. These my sheep perish to\nThy glory in testimony of the truth. Thou didst command me to feed them;\nhence I give them to Thee, and do Thou count them, Lord, take them, heal\ntheir wounds, soften their pain, give them happiness greater than the\ntorments which they suffered here.\"\n\nAnd he blessed them one after another, crowd after crowd, with as much\nlove as if they had been his children whom he was giving directly into\nthe hands of Christ. Then Cæsar, whether from madness, or the wish that\nthe exhibition should surpass everything seen in Rome so far, whispered\na few words to the prefect of the city. He left the podium and went at\nonce to the cuniculum. Even the populace were astonished when, after a\nwhile, they saw the gratings open again. Beasts of all kinds were let\nout this time,--tigers from the Euphrates, Numidian panthers, bears,\nwolves, hyenas, and jackals. The whole arena was covered as with a\nmoving sea of striped, yellow, flax-colored, dark-brown, and spotted\nskins. There rose a chaos in which the eye could distinguish nothing\nsave a terrible turning and twisting of the backs of wild beasts. The\nspectacle lost the appearance of reality, and became as it were an orgy\nof blood, a dreadful dream, a gigantic kaleidoscope of mad fancy. The\nmeasure was surpassed. Amidst roars, howls, whines, here and there\non the seats of the spectators were heard the terrified and spasmodic\nlaughter of women, whose strength had given way at last. The people\nwere terrified. Faces grew dark. Various voices began to cry, \"Enough!\nenough!\"\n\nBut it was easier to let the beasts in than drive them back again.\nCæsar, however, found a means of clearing the arena, and a new\namusement for the people. In all the passages between the seats appeared\ndetachments of Numidians, black and stately, in feathers and earrings,\nwith bows in their hands. The people divined what was coming, and\ngreeted the archers with a shout of delight. The Numidians approached\nthe railing, and, putting their arrows to the strings, began to shoot\nfrom their bows into the crowd of beasts. That was a new spectacle\ntruly. Their bodies, shapely as if cut from dark marble, bent backward,\nstretched the flexible bows, and sent bolt after bolt. The whizzing of\nthe strings and the whistling of the feathered missiles were mingled\nwith the howling of beasts and cries of wonder from the audience.\nWolves, bears, panthers, and people yet alive fell side by side. Here\nand there a lion, feeling a shaft in his ribs, turned with sudden\nmovement, his jaws wrinkled from rage, to seize and break the arrow.\nOthers groaned from pain. The small beasts, falling into a panic, ran\naround the arena at random, or thrust their heads into the grating;\nmeanwhile the arrows whizzed and whizzed on, till all that was living\nhad lain down in the final quiver of death.\n\nHundreds of slaves rushed into the arena armed with spades, shovels,\nbrooms, wheelbarrows, baskets for carrying out entrails, and bags of\nsand. They came, crowd after crowd, and over the whole circle there\nseethed up a feverish activity. The space was soon cleared of bodies,\nblood, and mire, dug over, made smooth, and sprinkled with a thick layer\nof fresh sand. That done, Cupids ran in, scattering leaves of roses,\nlilies, and the greatest variety of flowers. The censers were\nignited again, and the velarium was removed, for the sun had sunk now\nconsiderably. But people looked at one another with amazement, and\ninquired what kind of new spectacle was waiting for them on that day.\n\nIndeed, such a spectacle was waiting as no one had looked for. Cæsar,\nwho had left the podium some time before, appeared all at once on the\nflowery arena, wearing a purple mantle, and a crown of gold. Twelve\nchoristers holding citharæ followed him. He had a silver lute, and\nadvanced with solemn tread to the middle, bowed a number of times to the\nspectators, raised his eyes, and stood as if waiting for inspiration.\n\nThen he struck the strings and began to sing,--\n\n\"O radiant son of Leto, Ruler of Tenedos, Chilos, Chrysos, Art thou\nhe who, having in his care The sacred city of Ilion, Could yield it to\nArgive anger, And suffer sacred altars, Which blazed unceasingly to his\nhonor, To be stained with Trojan blood? Aged men raised trembling hands\nto thee, O thou of the far-shooting silver bow, Mothers from the depth\nof their breasts Raised tearful cries to thee, Imploring pity on\ntheir offspring. Those complaints might have moved a stone, But to the\nsuffering of people Thou, O Smintheus, wert less feeling than a stone!\"\n\nThe song passed gradually into an elegy, plaintive and full of pain.\nIn the Circus there was silence. After a while Cæsar, himself affected,\nsang on,--\n\n\"With the sound of thy heavenly lyre Thou couldst drown the wailing, The\nlament of hearts. At the sad sound of this song The eye to-day is filled\nwith tears, As a flower is filled with dew, But who can raise from dust\nand ashes That day of fire, disaster, ruin? O Smintheus, where wert thou\nthen?\"\n\nHere his voice quivered and his eyes grew moist. Tears appeared on the\nlids of the vestals; the people listened in silence before they burst\ninto a long unbroken storm of applause.\n\nMeanwhile from outside through the vomitoria came the sound of creaking\nvehicles on which were placed the bloody remnants of Christians, men,\nwomen, and children, to be taken to the pits called \"puticuli.\"\n\nBut the Apostle Peter seized his trembling white head with his hands,\nand cried in spirit,--\n\n\"O Lord, O Lord! to whom hast Thou given rule over the earth, and why\nwilt Thou found in this place Thy capital?\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LVI\n\n\nTHE sun had lowered toward its setting, and seemed to dissolve in the\nred of the evening. The spectacle was finished. Crowds were leaving the\namphitheatre and pouring out to the city through the passages called\nvomitoria. Only Augustians delayed; they were waiting for the stream\nof people to pass. They had all left their seats and assembled at\nthe podium, in which Cæsar appeared again to hear praises. Though the\nspectators had not spared plaudits at the end of the song, Nero was not\nsatisfied; he had looked for enthusiasm touching on frenzy. In vain did\nhymns of praise sound in his ears; in vain did vestals kiss his \"divine\"\nhand, and while doing so Rubria bent till her reddish hair touched his\nbreast. Nero was not satisfied, and could not hide the fact. He was\nastonished and also disturbed because Petronius was silent. Some\nflattering and pointed word from his mouth would have been a great\nconsolation at that moment. Unable at last to restrain himself, Cæsar\nbeckoned to the arbiter.\n\n\"Speak,\" said he, when Petronius entered the podium.\n\n\"I am silent,\" answered Petronius, coldly, \"for I cannot find words.\nThou hast surpassed thyself.\"\n\n\"So it seemed to me too; but still this people--\"\n\n\"Canst thou expect mongrels to appreciate poetry?\"\n\n\"But thou too hast noticed that they have not thanked me as I deserve.\"\n\n\"Because thou hast chosen a bad moment.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"When men's brains are filled with the odor of blood, they cannot listen\nattentively.\"\n\n\"Ah, those Christians!\" replied Nero, clenching his fists. \"They burned\nRome, and injure me now in addition. What new punishment shall I invent\nfor them?\"\n\nPetronius saw that he had taken the wrong road, that his words had\nproduced an effect the very opposite of what he intended; so, to turn\nCæsar's mind in another direction, he bent toward him and whispered,--\n\n\"Thy song is marvellous, but I will make one remark: in the fourth line\nof the third strophe the metre leaves something to be desired.\"\n\nNero, blushing with shame, as if caught in a disgraceful deed, had fear\nin his look, and answered in a whisper also,--\n\n\"Thou seest everything. I know. I will re-write that. But no one else\nnoticed it, I think. And do thou, for the love of the gods, mention it\nto no one,--if life is dear to thee.\"\n\nTo this Petronius answered, as if in an outburst of vexation and anger,\n\n\"Condemn me to death, O divinity, if I deceive thee; but thou wilt not\nterrify me, for the gods know best of all if I fear death.\"\n\nAnd while speaking he looked straight into Cæsar's eyes, who answered\nafter a while,--\n\n\"Be not angry; thou knowest that I love thee.\"\n\n\"A bad sign!\" thought Petronius.\n\n\"I wanted to invite thee to-day to a feast,\" continued Nero, \"but\nI prefer to shut myself in and polish that cursed line in the third\nstrophe. Besides thee Seneca may have noticed it, and perhaps Secundus\nCarinas did; but I will rid myself of them quickly.\"\n\nThen he summoned Seneca, and declared that with Acratus and Secundus\nCarinas, he sent him to the Italian and all other provinces for\nmoney, which he commanded him to obtain from cities, villages, famous\ntemples,--in a word, from every place where it was possible to find\nmoney, or from which they could force it. But Seneca, who saw that Cæsar\nwas confiding to him a work of plunder, sacrilege, and robbery, refused\nstraightway.\n\n\"I must go to the country, lord,\" said he, \"and await death, for I am\nold and my nerves are sick.\"\n\nSeneca's Iberian nerves were stronger than Chilos; they were not sick,\nperhaps, but in general his health was bad, for he seemed like a shadow,\nand recently his hair had grown white altogether.\n\nNero, too, when he looked at him, thought that he would not have to wait\nlong for the man's death, and answered,--\n\n\"I will not expose thee to a journey if thou art ill, but through\naffection I wish to keep thee near me. Instead of going to the country,\nthen, thou wilt stay in thy own house, and not leave it.\"\n\nThen he laughed, and said, \"If I send Acratus and Carinas by themselves,\nit will be like sending wolves for sheep. Whom shall I set above them?\"\n\n\"Me, lord,\" said Domitius Afer.\n\n\"No! I have no wish to draw on Rome the wrath of Mercury, whom ye would\nput to shame with your villainy. I need some stoic like Seneca, or like\nmy new friend, the philosopher Chilo.\"\n\nThen he looked around, and asked,--\n\n\"But what has happened to Chilo?\"\n\nChilo, who had recovered in the open air and returned to the\namphitheatre for Cæsar's song, pushed up, and said,--\n\n\"I am here, O Radiant Offspring of the sun and moon. I was ill, but thy\nsong has restored me.\"\n\n\"I will send thee to Achæa,\" said Nero. \"Thou must know to a copper how\nmuch there is in each temple there.\"\n\n\"Do so, O Zeus, and the gods will give thee such tribute as they have\nnever given any one.\"\n\n\"I would, but I do not like to prevent thee from seeing the games.\"\n\n\"Baal!\" said Chilo.\n\nThe Augustians, delighted that Cæsar had regained humor, fell to\nlaughing, and exclaimed,--\n\n\"No, lord, deprive not this valiant Greek of a sight of the games.\"\n\n\"But preserve me, O lord, from the sight of these noisy geese of the\nCapitol, whose brains put together would not fill a nutshell,\" retorted\nChilo. \"O first-born of Apollo, I am writing a Greek hymn in thy honor,\nand I wish to spend a few days in the temple of the Muses to implore\ninspiration.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" exclaimed Nero. \"It is thy wish to escape future games.\nNothing will come of that!\"\n\n\"I swear to thee, lord, that I am writing a hymn.\"\n\n\"Then thou wilt write it at night. Beg inspiration of Diana, who, by the\nway, is a sister of Apollo.\"\n\nChilo dropped his head and looked with malice on those present, who\nbegan to laugh again. Cæsar, turning to Senecio and Suilius Nerulinus,\nsaid,--\n\n\"Imagine, of the Christians appointed for to-day we have been able to\nfinish hardly half!\"\n\nAt this old Aquilus Regulus, who had great knowledge of everything\ntouching the amphitheatre, thought a while, and said,--\n\n\"Spectacles in which people appear sine armis et sine arte last almost\nas long and are less entertaining.\"\n\n\"I will command to give them weapons,\" answered Nero.\n\nBut the superstitious Vestinius was roused from meditation at once, and\nasked in a mysterious voice,--\n\n\"Have ye noticed that when dying they see something? They look up, and\ndie as it were without pain. I am sure that they see something.\"\n\nHe raised his eyes then to the opening of the amphitheatre, over which\nnight had begun to extend its velarium dotted with stars. But others\nanswered with laughter and jesting suppositions as to what the\nChristians could see at the moment of death. Meanwhile Cæsar gave\na signal to the slave torch-bearers, and left the Circus; after him\nfollowed vestals, senators, dignitaries, and Augustians.\n\nThe night was clear and warm. Before the Circus were moving throngs of\npeople, curious to witness the departure of Cæsar; but in some way they\nwere gloomy and silent. Here and there applause was heard, but it\nceased quickly. From the spoliarium creaking carts bore away the bloody\nremnants of Christians.\n\nPetronius and Vinicius passed over their road in silence. Only when near\nhis villa did Petronius inquire,--\n\n\"Hast thou thought of what I told thee?\" \"I have,\" answered Vinicius.\n\n\"Dost believe that for me too this is a question of the highest\nimportance? I must liberate her in spite of Cæsar and Tigellinus. This\nis a kind of battle in which I have undertaken to conquer, a kind of\nplay in which I wish to win, even at the cost of my life. This day has\nconfirmed me still more in my plan.\"\n\n\"May Christ reward thee.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt see.\"\n\nThus conversing, they stopped at the door of the villa and descended\nfrom the litter. At that moment a dark figure approached them, and\nasked,--\n\n\"Is the noble Vinicius here?\"\n\n\"He is,\" answered the tribune. \"What is thy wish?\"\n\n\"I am Nazarius, the son of Miriam. I come from the prison, and bring\ntidings of Lygia.\"\n\nVinicius placed his hand on the young man's shoulder and looked into\nhis eyes by the torchlight, without power to speak a word, but Nazarius\ndivined the question which was dying on his lips, and replied,--\n\n\"She is living yet. Ursus sent me to say that she prays in her fever,\nand repeats thy name.\"\n\n\"Praise be to Christ, who has power to restore her to me,\" said\nVinicius. He conducted Nazarius to the library, and after a while\nPetronius came in to hear their conversation.\n\n\"Sickness saved her from shame, for executioners are timid,\" said the\nyouth. \"Ursus and Glaucus the physician watch over her night and day.\"\n\n\"Are the guards the same?\"\n\n\"They are, and she is in their chamber. All the prisoners in the lower\ndungeon died of fever, or were stifled from foul air.\"\n\n\"Who art thou?\" inquired Petronins.\n\n\"The noble Vinicius knows me. I am the son of that widow with whom Lygia\nlodged.\"\n\n\"And a Christian?\"\n\nThe youth looked with inquiring glance at Vinicius, but, seeing him in\nprayer, he raised his head, and answered,--\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"How canst thou enter the prison freely?\"\n\n\"I hired myself to carry out corpses; I did so to assist my brethren and\nbring them news from the city.\"\n\nPetronius looked more attentively at the comely face of the youth, his\nblue eyes, and dark, abundant hair.\n\n\"From what country art thou, youth?\" asked he.\n\n\"I am a Galilean, lord.\"\n\n\"Wouldst thou like to see Lygia free?\"\n\nThe youth raised his eyes. \"Yes, even had I to die afterwards.\"\n\nThen Vinicius ceased to pray, and said,--\n\n\"Tell the guards to place her in a coffin as if she were dead. Thou wilt\nfind assistants to bear her out in the night with thee. Near the 'Putrid\nPits' will be people with a litter waiting for you; to them ye will give\nthe coffin. Promise the guards from me as much gold as each can carry in\nhis mantle.\"\n\nWhile speaking, his face lost its usual torpor, and in him was roused\nthe soldier to whom hope had restored his former energy.\n\nNazarius was flushed with delight, and, raising his hands, he exclaimed,\n\n\"May Christ give her health, for she will be free.\"\n\n\"Dost thou think that the guards will consent?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"They, lord? Yes, if they know that punishment and torture will not\ntouch them.\"\n\n\"The guards would consent to her flight; all the more will they let us\nbear her out as a corpse,\" said Vinicius.\n\n\"There is a man, it is true,\" said Nazarius, \"who burns with red-hot\niron to see if the bodies which we carry out are dead. But he will take\neven a few sestertia not to touch the face of the dead with iron. For\none aureus he will touch the coffin, not the body.\"\n\n\"Tell him that he will get a cap full of aurei,\" said Petronius. \"But\ncanst thou find reliable assistants?\"\n\n\"I can find men who would sell their own wives and children for money.\"\n\n\"Where wilt thou find them?\"\n\n\"In the prison itself or in the city. Once the guards are paid, they\nwill admit whomever I like.\"\n\n\"In that case take me as a hired servant,\" said Vinicius.\n\nBut Petronius opposed this most earnestly. \"The pretorians might\nrecognize thee even in disguise, and all would be lost. Go neither to\nthe prison nor the 'Putrid Pits.' All, including Cæsar and Tigellinus,\nshould be convinced that she died; otherwise they will order immediate\npursuit. We can lull suspicion only in this way: When she is taken to\nthe Alban Hills or farther, to Sicily, we shall be in Rome. A week or\ntwo later thou wilt fall ill, and summon Nero's physician; he will tell\nthee to go to the mountains. Thou and she will meet, and afterward--\"\n\nHere he thought a while; then, waving his hand, he said,--\n\n\"Other times may come.\"\n\n\"May Christ have mercy on her,\" said Vinicius. \"Thou art speaking of\nSicily, while she is sick and may die.\"\n\n\"Let us keep her nearer Rome at first. The air alone will restore her,\nif only we snatch her from the dungeon. Hast thou no manager in the\nmountains whom thou canst trust?\"\n\n\"I have,\" replied Vinicius, hurriedly. \"Near Corioli is a reliable man\nwho carried me in his arms when I was a child, and who loves me yet.\"\n\n\"Write to him to come to-morrow,\" said Petronius, handing Vinicius\ntablets. \"I will send a courier at once.\"\n\nHe called the chief of the atrium then, and gave the needful orders.\nA few minutes later, a mounted slave was coursing in the night toward\nCorioli.\n\n\"It would please me were Ursus to accompany her,\" said Vinicius. \"I\nshould be more at rest.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Nazarius, \"that is a man of superhuman strength; he can\nbreak gratings and follow her. There is one window above a steep, high\nrock where no guard is placed. I will take Ursus a rope; the rest he\nwill do himself.\"\n\n\"By Hercules!\" said Petronius, \"let him tear himself out as he pleases,\nbut not at the same time with her, and not two or three days later, for\nthey would follow him and discover her hiding-place. By Hercules! do ye\nwish to destroy yourselves and her? I forbid you to name Corioli to him,\nor I wash my hands.\"\n\nBoth recognized the justice of these words, and were silent. Nazarius\ntook leave, promising to come the next morning at daybreak.\n\nHe hoped to finish that night with the guards, but wished first to run\nin to see his mother, who in that uncertain and dreadful time had\nno rest for a moment thinking of her son. After some thought he had\ndetermined not to seek an assistant in the city, but to find and bribe\none from among his fellow corpse-bearers. When going, he stopped, and,\ntaking Vinicius aside, whispered,--\n\n\"I will not mention our plan to any one, not even to my mother, but the\nApostle Peter promised to come from the amphitheatre to our house; I\nwill tell him everything.\"\n\n\"Here thou canst speak openly,\" replied Vinicius. \"The Apostle was in\nthe amphitheatre with the people of Petronius. But I will go with you\nmyself.\"\n\nHe gave command to bring him a slave's mantle, and they passed out.\nPetronius sighed deeply.\n\n\"I wished her to die of that fever,\" thought he, \"since that would have\nbeen less terrible for Vinicius. But now I am ready to offer a golden\ntripod to Esculapius for her health. Ah! Ahenobarbus, thou hast the wish\nto turn a lover's pain into a spectacle; thou, Augusta, wert jealous of\nthe maiden's beauty, and wouldst devour her alive because thy Rufius has\nperished. Thou, Tigellinus, wouldst destroy her to spite me! We shall\nsee. I tell you that your eyes will not behold her on the arena, for she\nwill either die her own death, or I shall wrest her from you as from the\njaws of dogs, and wrest her in such fashion that ye shall not know it;\nand as often afterward as I look at you I shall think, These are the\nfools whom Caius Petronius outwitted.\"\n\nAnd, self-satisfied, he passed to the triclinium, where he sat down to\nsupper with Eunice. During the meal a lector read to them the Idyls of\nTheocritus. Out of doors the wind brought clouds from the direction of\nSoracte, and a sudden storm broke the silence of the calm summer night.\nFrom time to time thunder reverberated on the seven hills, while they,\nreclining near each other at the table, listened to the bucolic poet,\nwho in the singing Doric dialect celebrated the loves of shepherds.\nLater on, with minds at rest, they prepared for sweet slumber.\n\nBut before this Vinicius returned. Petronius heard of his coming, and\nwent to meet him.\n\n\"Well? Have ye fixed anything new?\" inquired he. \"Has Nazarius gone to\nthe prison?\"\n\n\"He has,\" answered the young man, arranging his hair, wet from the rain.\n\"Nazarius went to arrange with the guards, and I have seen Peter, who\ncommanded me to pray and believe.\"\n\n\"That is well. If all goes favorably, we can bear her away to-morrow\nnight.\"\n\n\"My manager must be here at daybreak with men.\"\n\n\"The road is a short one. Now go to rest.\"\n\nBut Vinicius knelt in his cubiculum and prayed.\n\nAt sunrise Niger, the manager, arrived from Corioli, bringing with him,\nat the order of Vinicius, mules, a litter, and four trusty men selected\namong slaves from Britain, whom, to save appearances, he had left at\nan inn in the Subura. Vinicius, who had watched all night, went to meet\nhim. Niger, moved at sight of his youthful master, kissed his hands and\neyes, saying,--\n\n\"My dear, thou art ill, or else suffering has sucked the blood from thy\nface, for hardly did I know thee at first.\"\n\nVinicius took him to the interior colonnade, and there admitted him\nto the secret. Niger listened with fixed attention, and on his dry,\nsunburnt face great emotion was evident; this he did not even try to\nmaster.\n\n\"Then she is a Christian?\" exclaimed Niger; and he looked inquiringly\ninto the face of Vinicius, who divined evidently what the gaze of the\ncountryman was asking, since he answered,--\n\n\"I too am a Christian.\"\n\nTears glistened in Niger's eyes that moment. He was silent for a while;\nthen, raising his hands, he said,--\n\n\"I thank Thee, O Christ, for having taken the beam from eyes which are\nthe dearest on earth to me.\"\n\nThen he embraced the head of Vinicius, and, weeping from happiness, fell\nto kissing his forehead. A moment later, Petronius appeared, bringing\nNazarius.\n\n\"Good news!\" cried he, while still at a distance.\n\nIndeed, the news was good. First, Glaucus the physician guaranteed\nLygia's life, though she had the same prison fever of which, in the\nTullianum and other dungeons, hundreds of people were dying daily. As\nto the guards and the man who tried corpses with red-hot iron, there was\nnot the least difficulty. Attys, the assistant, was satisfied also.\n\n\"We made openings in the coffin to let the sick woman breathe,\" said\nNazarius. \"The only danger is that she may groan or speak as we pass the\npretorians. But she is very weak, and is lying with closed eyes since\nearly morning. Besides, Glaucus will give her a sleeping draught\nprepared by himself from drugs brought by me purposely from the city.\nThe cover will not be nailed to the coffin; ye will raise it easily and\ntake the patient to the litter. We will place in the coffin a long bag\nof sand, which ye will provide.\"\n\nVinicius, while hearing these words, was as pale as linen; but he\nlistened with such attention that he seemed to divine at a glance what\nNazarius had to say.\n\n\"Will they carry out other bodies from the prison?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"About twenty died last night, and before evening more will be dead,\"\nsaid the youth. \"We must go with a whole company, but we will delay\nand drop into the rear. At the first corner my comrade will get lame\npurposely. In that way we shall remain behind the others considerably.\nYe will wait for us at the small temple of Libitina. May God give a\nnight as dark as possible!\"\n\n\"He will,\" said Niger. \"Last evening was bright, and then a sudden storm\ncame. To-day the sky is clear, but since morning it is sultry. Every\nnight now there will be wind and rain.\"\n\n\"Will ye go without torches?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"The torches are carried only in advance. In every event, be near the\ntemple of Libitina at dark, though usually we carry out the corpses only\njust before midnight.\"\n\nThey stopped. Nothing was to be heard save the hurried breathing of\nVinicius. Petronius turned to him,--\n\n\"I said yesterday that it would be best were we both to stay at home,\nbut now I see that I could not stay. Were it a question of flight, there\nwould be need of the greatest caution; but since she will be borne out\nas a corpse, it seems that not the least suspicion will enter the head\nof any one.\"\n\n\"True, true!\" answered Vinicius. \"I must be there. I will take her from\nthe coffin myself.\"\n\n\"Once she is in my house at Corioli, I answer for her,\" said Niger.\nConversation stopped here. Niger returned to his men at the inn.\nNazarius took a purse of gold under his tunic and went to the prison.\nFor Vinicius began a day filled with alarm, excitement, disquiet, and\nhope.\n\n\"The undertaking ought to succeed, for it is well planned,\" said\nPetronius. \"It was impossible to plan better. Thou must feign suffering,\nand wear a dark toga. Do not desert the amphitheatre. Let people see\nthee. All is so fixed that there cannot be failure. But--art thou\nperfectly sure of thy manager?\"\n\n\"He is a Christian,\" replied Vinicius.\n\nPetronius looked at him with amazement, then shrugged his shoulders, and\nsaid, as if in soliloquy,--\n\n\"By Pollux! how it spreads, and commands people's souls. Under such\nterror as the present, men would renounce straightway all the gods\nof Rome, Greece, and Egypt. Still, this is wonderful! By Pollux! if I\nbelieved that anything depended on our gods, I would sacrifice six\nwhite bullocks to each of them, and twelve to Capitoline Jove. Spare no\npromises to thy Christ.\"\n\n\"I have given Him my soul,\" said Vinicius.\n\nAnd they parted. Petronius returned to his cubiculum; but Vinicius went\nto look from a distance at the prison, and thence betook himself to the\nslope of the Vatican hill,--to that hut of the quarryman where he had\nreceived baptism from the hands of the Apostle. It seemed to him that\nChrist would hear him more readily there than in any other place; so\nwhen he found it, he threw himself on the ground and exerted all the\nstrength of his suffering soul in prayer for mercy, and so forgot\nhimself that he remembered not where he was or what he was doing. In\nthe afternoon he was roused by the sound of trumpets which came from\nthe direction of Nero's Circus. He went out of the hut, and gazed around\nwith eyes which were as if just opened from sleep.\n\nIt was hot; the stillness was broken at intervals by the sound of brass\nand continually by the ceaseless noise of grasshoppers. The air had\nbecome sultry, the sky was still clear over the city, but near the\nSabine Hills dark clouds were gathering at the edge of the horizon.\n\nVinicius went home. Petronius was waiting for him in the atrium.\n\n\"I have been on the Palatine,\" said he. \"I showed myself there\npurposely, and even sat down at dice. There is a feast at the house of\nVinicius this evening; I promised to go, but only after midnight, saying\nthat I must sleep before that hour. In fact I shall be there, and it\nwould be well wert thou to go also.\"\n\n\"Are there no tidings from Niger or Nazarius?\" inquired Vinicius.\n\n\"No; we shall see them only at midnight. Hast noticed that a storm is\nthreatening?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"To-morrow there is to be an exhibition of crucified Christians, but\nperhaps rain will prevent it.\"\n\nThen he drew nearer and said, touching his nephew's shoulder,--\"But thou\nwilt not see her on the cross; thou wilt see her only in Corioli. By\nCastor! I would not give the moment in which we free her for all the\ngems in Rome. The evening is near.\"\n\nIn truth the evening was near, and darkness began to encircle the city\nearlier than usual because clouds covered the whole horizon. With the\ncoming of night heavy rain fell, which turned into steam on the stones\nwarmed by the heat of the day, and filled the streets of the city with\nmist. After that came a lull, then brief violent showers.\n\n\"Let us hurry!\" said Vinicius at last; \"they may carry bodies from the\nprison earlier because of the storm.\"\n\n\"It is time!\" said Petronius.\n\nAnd taking Gallic mantles with hoods, they passed through the garden\ndoor to the street. Petronius had armed himself with a short Roman knife\ncalled sicca, which he took always during night trips.\n\nThe city was empty because of the storm. From time to time lightning\nrent the clouds, illuminating with its glare the fresh walls of houses\nnewly built or in process of building and the wet flag-stones with which\nthe streets were paved. At last a flash came, when they saw, after a\nrather long road, the mound on which stood the small temple of Libitina,\nand at the foot of the mound a group of mules and horses.\n\n\"Niger!\" called Vinicius, in a low voice.\n\n\"I am here, lord,\" said a voice in the rain.\n\n\"Is everything ready?\"\n\n\"It is. We were here at dark. But hide yourselves under the rampart, or\nye will be drenched. What a storm! Hail will fall, I think.\"\n\nIn fact Niger's fear was justified, for soon hail began to fall, at\nfirst fine, then larger and more frequent. The air grew cold at once.\nWhile standing under the rampart, sheltered from the wind and icy\nmissiles, they conversed in low voices.\n\n\"Even should some one see us,\" said Niger, \"there will be no suspicion;\nwe look like people waiting for the storm to pass. But I fear that they\nmay not bring the bodies out till morning.\"\n\n\"The hail-storm will not last,\" said Petronius. \"We must wait even till\ndaybreak.\"\n\nThey waited, listening to hear the sound of the procession. The\nhail-storm passed, but immediately after a shower began to roar. At\ntimes the wind rose, and brought from the \"Putrid Pits\" a dreadful odor\nof decaying bodies, buried near the surface and carelessly.\n\n\"I see a light through the mist,\" said Niger,--\"one, two, three,--those\nare torches. See that the mules do not snort,\" said he, turning to the\nmen.\n\n\"They are coming!\" said Petronius.\n\nThe lights were growing more and more distinct. After a time it was\npossible to see torches under the quivering flames.\n\nNiger made the sign of the cross, and began to pray. Meanwhile the\ngloomy procession drew nearer, and halted at last in front of the temple\nof Libitina. Petronius, Vinicius, and Niger pressed up to the rampart in\nsilence, not knowing why the halt was made. But the men had stopped only\nto cover their mouths and faces with cloths to ward off the stifling\nstench which at the edge of the \"Putrid Pits\" was simply unendurable;\nthen they raised the biers with coffins and moved on. Only one coffin\nstopped before the temple. Vinicius sprang toward it, and after him\nPetronius, Niger, and two British slaves with the litter.\n\nBut before they had reached it in the darkness, the voice of Nazarius\nwas heard, full of pain,--\n\n\"Lord, they took her with Ursus to the Esquiline prison. We are carrying\nanother body! They removed her before midnight.\"\n\nPetronius, when he had returned home, was gloomy as a storm, and did not\neven try to console Vinicius. He understood that to free Lygia from the\nEsquiline dungeons was not to be dreamed of. He divined that very likely\nshe had been taken from the Tullianum so as not to die of fever and\nescape the amphitheatre assigned to her. But for this very reason she\nwas watched and guarded more carefully than others. From the bottom of\nhis soul Petronius was sorry for her and Vinicius, but he was wounded\nalso by the thought that for the first time in life he had not\nsucceeded, and for the first time was beaten in a struggle.\n\n\"Fortune seems to desert me,\" said he to himself, \"but the gods are\nmistaken if they think that I will accept such a life as his, for\nexample.\"\n\nHere he turned toward Vinicius, who looked at him with staring eyes.\n\"What is the matter? Thou hast a fever,\" said Petronius.\n\nBut Vinicius answered with a certain strange, broken, halting voice,\nlike that of a sick child,--\"But I believe that He--can restore her to\nme.\"\n\nAbove the city the last thunders of the storm had ceased.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LVII\n\n\nTHREE days' rain, an exceptional phenomenon in Rome during summer, and\nhail falling in opposition to the natural order, not only in the day,\nbut even at night, interrupted the spectacles. People were growing\nalarmed. A failure of grapes was predicted, and when on a certain\nafternoon a thunderbolt melted the bronze statue of Ceres on the\nCapitol, sacrifices were ordered in the temple of Jupiter Salvator. The\npriests of Ceres spread a report that the anger of the gods was turned\non the city because of the too hasty punishment of Christians; hence\ncrowds began to insist that the spectacles be given without reference to\nweather. Delight seized all Rome when the announcement was made at last\nthat the ludus would begin again after three days' interval.\n\nMeanwhile beautiful weather returned. The amphitheatre was filled at\ndaybreak with thousands of people. Cæsar came early with the vestals\nand the court. The spectacle was to begin with a battle among the\nChristians, who to this end were arrayed as gladiators and furnished\nwith all kinds of weapons which served gladiators by profession in\noffensive and defensive struggles. But here came disappointment.\nThe Christians threw nets, darts, tridents, and swords on the arena,\nembraced and encouraged one another to endurance in view of torture and\ndeath. At this deep indignation and resentment seized the hearts of\nthe multitude. Some reproached the Christians with cowardice and\npusillanimity; others asserted that they refused to fight through hatred\nof the people, so as to deprive them of that pleasure which the sight of\nbravery produces. Finally, at command of Cæsar, real gladiators were let\nout, who despatched in one twinkle the kneeling and defenceless victims.\n\nWhen these bodies were removed, the spectacle was a series of mythologic\npictures,--Cæsar's own idea. The audience saw Hercules blazing in living\nfire on Mount Oeta. Vinicius had trembled at the thought that the role\nof Hercules might be intended for Ursus; but evidently the turn of\nLygia's faithful servant had not come, for on the pile some other\nChristian was burning,--a man quite unknown to Vinicius. In the\nnext picture Chilo, whom Cæsar would not excuse from attendance, saw\nacquaintances. The death of Dædalus was represented, and also that of\nIcarus. In the rôle of Dædalus appeared Euricius, that old man who had\ngiven Chilo the sign of the fish; the role of Icarus was taken by his\nson, Quartus. Both were raised aloft with cunning machinery, and then\nhurled suddenly from an immense height to the arena. Young Quartus\nfell so near Cæsar's podium that he spattered with blood not only the\nexternal ornaments but the purple covering spread over the front of the\npodium. Chilo did not see the fall, for he closed his eyes; but he heard\nthe dull thump of the body, and when after a time he saw blood there\nclose to him, he came near fainting a second time.\n\nThe pictures changed quickly. The shameful torments of maidens violated\nbefore death by gladiators dressed as wild beasts, delighted the hearts\nof the rabble. They saw priestesses of Cybele and Ceres, they saw the\nDanaides, they saw Dirce and Pasiphaë; finally they saw young girls,\nnot mature yet, torn asunder by wild horses. Every moment the crowd\napplauded new ideas of Nero, who, proud of them, and made happy by\nplaudits, did not take the emerald from his eye for one instant while\nlooking at white bodies torn with iron, and the convulsive quivering of\nvictims.\n\nPictures were given also from the history of the city. After the maidens\nthey saw Mucius Scævola, whose hand fastened over a fire to a tripod\nfilled the amphitheatre with the odor of burnt flesh; but this man,\nlike the real Scævola, remained without a groan, his eyes raised and\nthe murmur of prayer on his blackening lips. When he had expired and his\nbody was dragged to the spoliarium, the usual midday interlude followed.\nCæsar with the vestals and the Augustians left the amphitheatre, and\nwithdrew to an immense scarlet tent erected purposely; in this was\nprepared for him and the guests a magnificent prandium. The spectators\nfor the greater part followed his example, and, streaming out, disposed\nthemselves in picturesque groups around the tent, to rest their limbs\nwearied from long sitting, and enjoy the food which, through Cæsar's\nfavor, was served by slaves to them. Only the most curious descended to\nthe arena itself, and, touching with their fingers lumps of sand held\ntogether by blood, conversed, as specialists and amateurs, of that which\nhad happened and of that which was to follow. Soon even these went away,\nlest they might be late for the feast; only those few were left who\nstayed not through curiosity, but sympathy for the coming victims. Those\nconcealed themselves behind seats or in the lower places.\n\nMeanwhile the arena was levelled, and slaves began to dig holes one near\nthe other in rows throughout the whole circuit from side to side, so\nthat the last row was but a few paces distant from Cæsar's podium. From\noutside came the murmur of people, shouts and plaudits, while within\nthey were preparing in hot haste for new tortures. The cunicula were\nopened simultaneously, and in all passages leading to the arena were\nurged forward crowds of Christians naked and carrying crosses on their\nshoulders. The whole arena was filled with them. Old men, bending under\nthe weight of wooden beams, ran forward; at the side of these went men\nin the prime of life, women with loosened hair behind which they strove\nto hide their nakedness, small boys, and little children. The crosses,\nfor the greater part, as well as the victims, were wreathed with\nflowers. The servants of the amphitheatre beat the unfortunates with\nclubs, forcing them to lay down their crosses near the holes prepared,\nand stand themselves there in rows. Thus were to perish those whom\nexecutioners had had no chance to drive out as food for dogs and wild\nbeasts the first day of the games. Black slaves seized the victims, laid\nthem face upward on the wood, and fell to nailing their hands hurriedly\nand quickly to the arms of the crosses, so that people returning\nafter the interlude might find all the crosses standing. The whole\namphitheatre resounded with the noise of hammers which echoed through\nall the rows, went out to the space surrounding the amphitheatre, and\ninto the tent where Cæsar was entertaining his suite and the vestals.\nThere he drank wine, bantered with Chilo, and whispered strange words\nin the ears of the priestesses of Vesta; but on the arena the work was\nseething,--nails were going into the hands and feet of the Christians;\nshovels moved quickly, filling the holes in which the crosses had been\nplanted.\n\nAmong the new victims whose turn was to come soon was Crispus. The lions\nhad not had time to rend him; hence he was appointed to the cross. He,\nready at all times for death, was delighted with the thought that his\nhour was approaching. He seemed another man, for his emaciated body was\nwholly naked,--only a girdle of ivy encircled his hips, on his head was\na garland of roses. But in his eyes gleamed always that same exhaustless\nenergy; that same fanatical stern face gazed from beneath the crown of\nroses. Neither had his heart changed; for, as once in the cuniculum he\nhad threatened with the wrath of God his brethren sewed up in the skins\nof wild beasts, so to-day he thundered in place of consoling them.\n\n\"Thank the Redeemer,\" said Crispus, \"that He permits you to die the same\ndeath that He Himself died. Maybe a part of your sins will be remitted\nfor this cause; but tremble, since justice must be satisfied, and there\ncannot be one reward for the just and the wicked.\"\n\nHis words were accompanied by the sound of the hammers nailing the hands\nand feet of victims. Every moment more crosses were raised on the\narena; but he, turning to the crowd standing each man by his own cross,\ncontinued,--\n\n\"I see heaven open, but I see also the yawning abyss. I know not what\naccount of my life to give the Lord, though I have believed, and hated\nevil. I fear, not death, but resurrection; I fear, not torture, but\njudgment, for the day of wrath is at hand.\"\n\nAt that moment was heard from between the nearest rows some voice, calm\nand solemn,--\n\n\"Not the day of wrath, but of mercy, the day of salvation and happiness;\nfor I say that Christ will gather you in, will comfort you and seat you\nat His right hand. Be confident, for heaven is opening before you.\"\n\nAt these words all eyes were turned to the benches; even those who were\nhanging on the crosses raised their pale, tortured faces, and looked\ntoward the man who was speaking.\n\nBut he went to the barrier surrounding the arena, and blessed them with\nthe sign of the cross.\n\nCrispus stretched out his arm as if to thunder at him; but when he saw\nthe man's face, he dropped his arm, the knees bent under him, and his\nlips whispered, \"Paul the Apostle!\"\n\nTo the great astonishment of the servants of the Circus, all of those\nwho were not nailed to the crosses yet knelt down. Paul turned to\nCrispus and said,\n\n\"Threaten them not, Crispus, for this day they will be with thee in\nparadise. It is thy thought that they may be condemned. But who will\ncondemn?\n\n\"Will God, who gave His Son for them? Will Christ, who died for their\nsalvation, condemn when they die for His name? And how is it possible\nthat He who loves can condemn? Who will accuse the chosen of God? Who\nwill say of this blood, 'It is cursed'?\"\n\n\"I have hated evil,\" said the old priest.\n\n\"Christ's command to love men was higher than that to hate evil, for His\nreligion is not hatred, but love.\"\n\n\"I have sinned in the hour of death,\" answered Crispus, beating his\nbreast. The manager of the seats approached the Apostle, and inquired,\n\n\"Who art thou, speaking to the condemned?\"\n\n\"A Roman citizen,\" answered Paul, calmly. Then, turning to Crispus,\nhe said: \"Be confident, for to-day is a day of grace; die in peace, O\nservant of God.\"\n\nThe black men approached Crispus at that moment to place him on the\ncross; but he looked around once again, and cried,--\n\n\"My brethren, pray for me!\"\n\nHis face had lost its usual sternness; his stony features had taken an\nexpression of peace and sweetness. He stretched his arms himself along\nthe arms of the cross, to make the work easier, and, looking directly\ninto heaven, began to pray earnestly. He seemed to feel nothing; for\nwhen the nails entered his hands, not the least quiver shook his body,\nnor on his face did there appear any wrinkle of pain. He prayed when\nthey raised the cross and trampled the earth around it. Only when crowds\nbegan to fill the amphitheatre with shouts and laughter did his brows\nfrown somewhat, as if in anger that a pagan people were disturbing the\ncalm and peace of a sweet death.\n\nBut all the crosses had been raised, so that in the arena there stood as\nit were a forest, with people hanging on the trees. On the arms of the\ncrosses and on the heads of the martyrs fell the gleam of the sun; but\non the arena was a deep shadow, forming a kind of black involved grating\nthrough which glittered the golden sand. That was a spectacle in which\nthe whole delight of the audience consisted in looking at a lingering\ndeath. Never before had men seen such a density of crosses. The arena\nwas packed so closely that the servants squeezed between them only with\neffort. On the edges were women especially; but Crispus, as a leader,\nwas raised almost in front of Cæsar's podium, on an immense cross,\nwreathed below with honeysuckle. None of the victims had died yet,\nbut some of those fastened earlier had fainted. No one groaned; no one\ncalled for mercy. Some were hanging with head inclined on one arm,\nor dropped on the breast, as if seized by sleep; some were as if in\nmeditation; some, looking toward heaven, were moving their lips quietly.\nIn this terrible forest of crosses, among those crucified bodies, in\nthat silence of victims there was something ominous. The people who,\nfilled by the feast and gladsome, had returned to the Circus with\nshouts, became silent, not knowing on which body to rest their eyes, or\nwhat to think of the spectacle. The nakedness of strained female forms\nroused no feeling. They did not make the usual bets as to who would die\nfirst,--a thing done generally when there was even the smallest number\nof criminals on the arena. It seemed that Cæsar himself was bored, for\nhe turned lazily and with drowsy expression to arrange his necklace.\n\nAt that moment Crispus, who was hanging opposite, and who, like a man\nin a faint or dying, had kept his eyes closed, opened them and looked at\nCæsar. His face assumed an expression so pitiless, and his eyes flashed\nwith such fire, that the Augustians whispered to one another, pointing\nat him with their fingers, and at last Cæsar himself turned to that\ncross, and placed the emerald to his eye sluggishly.\n\nPerfect silence followed. The eyes of the spectators were fixed on\nCrispus, who strove to move his right hand, as if to tear it from the\ntree.\n\nAfter a while his breast rose, his ribs were visible, and he cried:\n\"Matricide! woe to thee!\"\n\nThe Augustians, hearing this mortal insult flung at the lord of the\nworld in presence of thousands, did not dare to breathe. Chilo was half\ndead. Cæsar trembled, and dropped the emerald from his fingers. The\npeople, too, held the breath in their breasts. The voice of Crispus was\nheard, as it rose in power, throughout the amphitheatre,--\n\n\"Woe to thee, murderer of wife and brother! woe to thee, Antichrist. The\nabyss is opening beneath thee, death is stretching its hands to thee,\nthe grave is waiting for thee. Woe, living corpse, for in terror shalt\nthou die and be damned to eternity!\"\n\nUnable to tear his hand from the cross, Crispus strained awfully. He was\nterrible,--a living skeleton; unbending as predestination, he shook his\nwhite beard over Nero's podium, scattering, as he nodded, rose leaves\nfrom the garland on his head.\n\n\"Woe to thee, murderer! Thy measure is surpassed, and thy hour is at\nhand!\"\n\nHere he made one more effort. It seemed for a moment that he would free\nhis hand from the cross and hold it in menace above Cæsar; but all at\nonce his emaciated arms extended still more, his body settled down, his\nhead fell on his breast, and he died.\n\nIn that forest of crosses the weakest began also the sleep of eternity.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LVIII\n\n\n\"LORD,\" said Chilo, \"the sea is like olive oil, the waves seem to sleep.\nLet us go to Achæa. There the glory of Apollo is awaiting thee, crowns\nand triumph are awaiting thee, the people will deify thee, the gods will\nreceive thee as a guest, their own equal; but here, O lord--\"\n\nAnd he stopped, for his lower lip began to quiver so violently that his\nwords passed into meaningless sounds.\n\n\"We will go when the games are over,\" replied Nero. \"I know that even\nnow some call the Christians innoxia corpora. If I were to go, all would\nrepeat this. What dost thou fear?\"\n\nThen he frowned, but looked with inquiring glance at Chilo, as if\nexpecting an answer, for he only feigned cool blood. At the last\nexhibition he himself feared the words of Crispus; and when he had\nreturned to the Palatine, he could not sleep from rage and shame, but\nalso from fear.\n\nThen Vestinius, who heard their conversation in silence, looked around,\nand said in a mysterious voice,--\n\n\"Listen, lord, to this old man. There is something strange in those\nChristians. Their deity gives them an easy death, but he may be\nvengeful.\"\n\n\"It was not I who arranged the games, but Tigellinus,\" replied Nero,\nquickly.\n\n\"True! it was I,\" added Tigellinus, who heard Cæsar's answer, \"and I\njeer at all Christian gods. Vestinius is a bladder full of prejudices,\nand this valiant Greek is ready to die of terror at sight of a hen with\nfeathers up in defence of her chickens.\"\n\n\"True!\" said Nero; \"but henceforth give command to cut the tongues out\nof Christians and stop their mouths.\"\n\n\"Fire will stop them, O divinity.\"\n\n\"Woe is me!\" groaned Chilo.\n\nBut Cæsar, to whom the insolent confidence of Tigellinus gave courage,\nbegan to laugh, and said, pointing to the old Greek,--\n\n\"See how the descendant of Achilles looks!\"\n\nIndeed Chilo looked terribly. The remnant of hair on his head had grown\nwhite; on his face was fixed an expression of some immense dread, alarm,\nand oppression. He seemed at times, too, as if stunned and only half\nconscious. Often he gave no answer to questions; then again he fell\ninto anger, and became so insolent that the Augustians preferred not to\nattack him. Such a moment had come to him then.\n\n\"Do what ye like with me, but I will not go to the games!\" cried he, in\ndesperation.\n\nNero looked at him for a while, and, turning to Tigellinus, said,--\n\n\"Have a care that this Stoic is near me in the gardens. I want to see\nwhat impression our torches will make on him.\"\n\nChilo was afraid of the threat which quivered in Cæsar's voice.\n\"O lord,\" said he, \"I shall see nothing, for I cannot see in the\nnight-time.\"\n\n\"The night will be as bright as day,\" replied Cæsar, with a threatening\nlaugh.\n\nTurning then to the Augustians, Nero talked about races which he\nintended to have when the games were over.\n\nPetronius approached Chilo, and asked, pushing him on the shoulder,--\n\n\"Have I not said that thou wouldst not hold out?\"\n\n\"I wish to drink,\" said Chilo, stretching his trembling hand toward a\ngoblet of wine; but he was unable to raise it to his lips. Seeing this,\nVestinius took the vessel; but later he drew near, and inquired with\ncurious and frightened face,--\n\n\"Are the Furies pursuing thee?\"\n\nThe old man looked at him a certain time with open lips, as if not\nunderstanding what he said. But Vestinius repeated,\n\n\"Are the Furies pursuing thee?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Chilo; \"but night is before me.\"\n\n\"How, night? May the gods have mercy on thee. How night?\"\n\n\"Night, ghastly and impenetrable, in which something is moving,\nsomething coming toward me; but I know not what it is, and I am\nterrified.\"\n\n\"I have always been sure that there are witches. Dost thou not dream of\nsomething?\"\n\n\"No, for I do not sleep. I did not think that they would be punished\nthus.\"\n\n\"Art thou sorry for them?\"\n\n\"Why do ye shed so much blood? Hast heard what that one said from the\ncross? Woe to us!\"\n\n\"I heard,\" answered Vestinius, in a low voice. \"But they are\nincendiaries.\"\n\n\"Not true!\"\n\n\"And enemies of the human race.\"\n\n\"Not true!\"\n\n\"And poisoners of water.\"\n\n\"Not true!\"\n\n\"And murderers of children.\"\n\n\"Not true!\"\n\n\"How?\" inquired Vestinius, with astonishment. \"Thou hast said so\nthyself, and given them into the hands of Tigellinus.\"\n\n\"Therefore night has surrounded me, and death is coming toward me. At\ntimes it seems to me that I am dead already, and ye also.\"\n\n\"No! it is they who are dying; we are alive. But tell me, what do they\nsee when they are dying?\"\n\n\"Christ.\"\n\n\"That is their god. Is he a mighty god?\"\n\nBut Chilo answered with a question,--\n\n\"What kind of torches are to burn in the gardens? Hast thou heard what\nCæsar said?\"\n\n\"I heard, and I know. Those torches are called Sarmentitii and Semaxii.\nThey are made by arraying men in painful tunics, steeped in pitch, and\nbinding them to pillars, to which fire is set afterward. May their\ngod not send misfortune on the city. Semaxii! that is a dreadful\npunishment!\"\n\n\"I would rather see it, for there will not be blood,\" answered Chilo.\n\"Command a slave to hold the goblet to my mouth. I wish to drink, but I\nspill the wine; my hand trembles from age.\"\n\nOthers also were speaking of the Christians. Old Domitius Afer reviled\nthem.\n\n\"There is such a multitude of them,\" said he, \"that they might raise a\ncivil war; and, remember, there were fears lest they might arm. But they\ndie like sheep.\"\n\n\"Let them try to die otherwise!\" said Tigellinus.\n\nTo this Petronius answered, \"Ye deceive yourselves. They are arming.\"\n\n\"With what?\"\n\n\"With patience.\"\n\n\"That is a new kind of weapon.\"\n\n\"True. But can ye say that they die like common criminals? No! They die\nas if the criminals were those who condemned them to death,--that is, we\nand the whole Roman people.\"\n\n\"What raving!\" said Tigellinus.\n\n\"Hic Abdera!\" answered Petronius.\n\n[A proverbial expression meaning \"The dullest of the dull\"--Note by the\nAuthor.]\n\nBut others, struck by the justice of his remark, began to look at one\nanother with astonishment, and repeat,--\n\n\"True! there is something peculiar and strange in their death.\"\n\n\"I tell you that they see their divinity!\" cried Vestinius, from one\nside. Thereupon a number of Augustians turned to Chilo,--\n\n\"Hai, old man, thou knowest them well; tell us what they see.\"\n\nThe Greek spat out wine on his tunic, and answered,--\n\n\"The resurrection.\" And he began to tremble so that the guests sitting\nnearer burst into loud laughter.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LIX\n\n\nFOR some time Vinicius had spent his nights away from home. It occurred\nto Petronius that perhaps he had formed a new plan, and was working to\nliberate Lygia from the Esquiline dungeon; he did not wish, however, to\ninquire about anything, lest he might bring misfortune to the work. This\nsceptical exquisite had become in a certain sense superstitious. He had\nfailed to snatch Lygia from the Mamertine prison, hence had ceased to\nbelieve in his own star.\n\nBesides, he did not count this time on a favorable outcome for the\nefforts of Vinicius. The Esquiline prison, formed in a hurry from the\ncellars of houses thrown down to stop the fire, was not, it is true,\nso terrible as the old Tullianum near the Capitol, but it was a hundred\ntimes better guarded. Petronius understood perfectly that Lygia had been\ntaken there only to escape death and not escape the amphitheatre. He\ncould understand at once that for this very reason they were guarding\nher as a man guards the eye in his head.\n\n\"Evidently,\" said he to himself, \"Cæsar and Tigellinus have reserved her\nfor some special spectacle, more dreadful than all others, and Vinicius\nis more likely to perish than rescue her.\"\n\nVinicius, too, had lost hope of being able to free Lygia. Christ alone\ncould do that. The young tribune now thought only of seeing her in\nprison.\n\nFor some time the knowledge that Nazarius had penetrated the Mamertine\nprison as a corpse-bearer had given him no peace; hence he resolved to\ntry that method also.\n\nThe overseer of the \"Putrid Pits,\" who had been bribed for an immense\nsum of money, admitted him at last among servants whom he sent nightly\nto prisons for corpses. The danger that Vinicius might be recognized was\nreally small. He was preserved from it by night, the dress of a slave,\nand the defective illumination of the prison. Besides, into whose head\ncould it enter that a patrician, the grandson of one consul, the son of\nanother, could be found among servants, corpse-bearers, exposed to the\nmiasma of prisons and the \"Putrid Pits\"? And he began work to which men\nwere forced only by slavery or the direst need.\n\nWhen the desired evening came, he girded his loins gladly, covered his\nhead with a cloth steeped in turpentine, and with throbbing heart betook\nhimself, with a crowd of others, to the Esquiline.\n\nThe pretorian guards made no trouble, for all had brought proper\ntesseræ, which the centurion examined by the light of a lantern. After a\nwhile the great iron doors opened before them, and they entered.\n\nVinicius saw an extensive vaulted cellar, from which they passed to a\nseries of others. Dim tapers illuminated the interior of each, which was\nfilled with people. Some of these were lying at the walls sunk in sleep,\nor dead, perhaps. Others surrounded large vessels of water, standing\nin the middle, out of which they drank as people tormented with fever;\nothers were sitting on the grounds, their elbows on their knees, their\nheads on their palms; here and there children were sleeping, nestled up\nto their mothers. Groans, loud hurried breathing of the sick, weeping,\nwhispered prayers, hymns in an undertone, the curses of overseers\nwere heard round about it. In this dungeon was the odor of crowds and\ncorpses. In its gloomy depth dark figures were swarming; nearer, close\nto flickering lights, were visible faces, pale, terrified, hungry, and\ncadaverous, with eyes dim, or else flaming with fever, with lips blue,\nwith streams of sweat on their foreheads, and with clammy hair. In\ncorners the sick were moaning loudly; some begged for water; others, to\nbe led to death. And still that prison was less terrible than the old\nTullianum. The legs bent under Vinicius when he saw all this, and breath\nwas failing in his breast. At the thought that Lygia was in the midst of\nthis misery and misfortune, the hair rose on his head, and he stifled\na cry of despair. The amphitheatre, the teeth of wild beasts, the\ncross,--anything was better than those dreadful dungeons filled with\nthe odor of corpses, places in which imploring voices called from every\ncorner,--\n\n\"Lead us to death!\"\n\nVinicius pressed his nails into his palms, for he felt that he was\ngrowing weak, and that presence of mind was deserting him. All that he\nhad felt till then, all his love and pain, changed in him to one desire\nfor death.\n\nJust then near his side was heard the overseer of the \"Putrid Pits\",\n\n\"How many corpses have ye to-day?\"\n\n\"About a dozen,\" answered the guardian of the prison, \"but there will be\nmore before morning; some are in agony at the walls.\"\n\nAnd he fell to complaining of women who concealed dead children so as\nto keep them near and not yield them to the \"Putrid Pits.\" \"We must\ndiscover corpses first by the odor; through this the air, so terrible\nalready, is spoiled still more. I would rather be a slave in some rural\nprison than guard these dogs rotting here while alive--\"\n\nThe overseer of the pits comforted him, saying that his own service was\nno easier. By this time the sense of reality had returned to Vinicius.\nHe began to search the dungeon; but sought in vain for Lygia, fearing\nmeanwhile that he would never see her alive. A number of cellars were\nconnected by newly made passages; the corpse-bearers entered only those\nfrom which corpses were to be carried. Fear seized Vinicius lest that\nprivilege which had cost so much trouble might serve no purpose. Luckily\nhis patron aided him.\n\n\"Infection spreads most through corpses,\" said he. \"Ye must carry out\nthe bodies at once, or die yourselves, together with the prisoners.\"\n\n\"There are only ten of us for all the cellars,\" said the guardian, \"and\nwe must sleep.\"\n\n\"I will leave four men of mine, who will go through the cellars at night\nto see if these are dead.\"\n\n\"We will drink to-morrow if thou do that. Everybody must be taken to the\ntest; for an order has come to pierce the neck of each corpse, and then\nto the 'Putrid Pits' at once with it.\"\n\n\"Very well, but we will drink,\" said the overseer.\n\nFour men were selected, and among them Vinicius; the others he took to\nput the corpses on the biers.\n\nVinicius was at rest; he was certain now at least of finding Lygia. The\nyoung tribune began by examining the first dungeon carefully; he looked\ninto all the dark corners hardly reached by the light of his torch; he\nexamined figures sleeping at the walls under coarse cloths; he saw that\nthe most grievously ill were drawn into a corner apart. But Lygia he\nfound in no place. In a second and third dungeon his search was equally\nfruitless.\n\nMeanwhile the hour had grown late; all corpses had been carried out.\nThe guards, disposing themselves in the corridors between cellars, were\nasleep; the children, wearied with crying, were silent; nothing was\nheard save the breathing of troubled breasts, and here and there the\nmurmur of prayer.\n\nVinicius went with his torch to the fourth dungeon, which was\nconsiderably smaller. Raising the light, he began to examine it, and\ntrembled all at once, for it seemed to him that he saw, near a latticed\nopening in the wall, the gigantic form of Ursus. Then, blowing out the\nlight, he approached him, and asked,\n\n\"Ursus, art thou here?\"\n\n\"Who art thou?\" asked the giant, turning his head.\n\n\"Dost not know me?\"\n\n\"Thou hast quenched the torch; how could I know thee?\"\n\nBut at that moment Vinicius saw Lygia lying on a cloak near the wall;\nso, without speaking further, he knelt near her. Ursus recognized him,\nand said,--\n\n\"Praise be to Christ! but do not wake her, lord.\"\n\nVinicius, kneeling down, gazed at her through his tears. In spite of the\ndarkness he could distinguish her face, which seemed to him as pale as\nalabaster, and her emaciated arms. At that sight he was seized by a\nlove which was like a rending pain, a love which shook his soul to\nits uttermost depth, and which at the same time was so full of pity,\nrespect, and homage that he fell on his face, and pressed to his lips\nthe hem of the cloak on which rested that head dearer to him than all\nelse on earth.\n\nUrsus looked at Vinicius for a long time in silence, but at last he\npulled his tunic.\n\n\"Lord,\" asked he, \"how didst thou come, and hast thou come here to save\nher?\"\n\nVinicius rose, and struggled for a time with his emotion. \"Show me the\nmeans,\" replied he.\n\n\"I thought that thou wouldst find them, lord. Only one method came to my\nhead--\"\n\nHere he turned toward the grating in the wall, as if in answer to\nhimself, and said,--\n\n\"In that way--but there are soldiers outside--\"\n\n\"A hundred pretorians.\"\n\n\"Then we cannot pass?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\nThe Lygian rubbed his forehead, and asked again,--\n\n\"How didst thou enter?\"\n\n\"I have a tessera from the overseer of the 'Putrid Pits.'\" Then Vinicius\nstopped suddenly, as if some idea had flashed through his head.\n\n\"By the Passion of the Redeemer,\" said he, in a hurried voice, \"I will\nstay here. Let her take my tessera; she can wrap her head in a cloth,\ncover her shoulders with a mantle, and pass out. Among the slaves who\ncarry out corpses there are several youths not full grown; hence the\npretorians will not notice her, and once at the house of Petronius she\nis safe.\"\n\nBut the Lygian dropped his head on his breast, and said,--\"She would not\nconsent, for she loves thee; besides, she is sick, and unable to stand\nalone. If thou and the noble Petronius cannot save her from prison, who\ncan?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Christ alone.\"\n\nThen both were silent.\n\n\"Christ could save all Christians,\" thought the Lygian, in his simple\nheart; \"but since He does not save them, it is clear that the hour of\ntorture and death has come.\"\n\nHe accepted it for himself, but was grieved to the depth of his soul for\nthat child who had grown up in his arms, and whom he loved beyond life.\n\nVinicius knelt again near Lygia. Through the grating in the wall\nmoonbeams came in, and gave better light than the one candle burning\nyet over the entrance. Lygia opened her eyes now, and said, placing her\nfeverish hand on the arm of Vinicius,\n\n\"I see thee; I knew that thou wouldst come.\"\n\nHe seized her hands, pressed them to his forehead and his heart, raised\nher somewhat, and held her to his breast.\n\n\"I have come, dearest. May Christ guard and free thee, beloved Lygia!\"\nHe could say no more, for the heart began to whine in his breast from\npain and love, and he would not show pain in her presence.\n\n\"I am sick, Marcus,\" said Lygia, \"and I must die either on the arena\nor here in prison--I have prayed to see thee before death; thou hast\ncome,--Christ has heard me.\"--\n\nUnable to utter a word yet, he pressed her to his bosom, and she\ncontinued,--\n\n\"I saw thee through the window in the Tullianum. I saw that thou hadst\nthe wish to come to me. Now the Redeemer has given me a moment of\nconsciousness, so that we may take farewell of each other. I am going to\nHim, Marcus, but I love thee, and shall love always.\"\n\nVinicius conquered himself; he stifled his pain and began to speak in a\nvoice which he tried to make calm,--\n\n\"No, dear Lygia, thou wilt not die. The Apostle commanded me to believe,\nand he promised to pray for thee; he knew Christ,--Christ loved him and\nwill not refuse him. Hadst thou to die, Peter would not have commanded\nme to be confident; but he said, 'Have confidence!'--No, Lygia! Christ\nwill have mercy. He does not wish thy death. He will not permit it.\nI Swear to thee by the name of the Redeemer that Peter is praying for\nthee.\"\n\nSilence followed. The one candle hanging above the entrance went out,\nbut moonlight entered through the whole opening. In the opposite corner\nof the cellar a child whined and was silent. From outside came the\nvoices of pretorians, who, after watching their turn out, were playing\nunder the wall at scriptoe duodecim.\n\n\"O Marcus,\" said Lygia, \"Christ Himself called to the Father, 'Remove\nthis bitter cup from Me'; still He drank it. Christ Himself died on the\ncross, and thousands are perishing for His sake. Why, then, should He\nspare me alone? Who am I, Marcus? I have heard Peter say that he too\nwould die in torture. Who am I, compared with Peter? When the pretorians\ncame to us, I dreaded death and torture, but I dread them no longer. See\nwhat a terrible prison this is, but I am going to heaven. Think of it:\nCæsar is here, but there the Redeemer, kind and merciful. And there is\nno death there. Thou lovest me; think, then, how happy I shall be. Oh,\ndear Marcus, think that thou wilt come to me there.\"\n\nHere she stopped to get breath in her sick breast, and then raised his\nhand to her lips,--\n\n\"Marcus?\"\n\n\"What, dear one?\"\n\n\"Do not weep for me, and remember this,--thou wilt come to me. I have\nlived a short time, but God gave thy soul to me; hence I shall tell\nChrist that though I died, and thou wert looking at my death, though\nthou wert left in grief, thou didst not blaspheme against His will, and\nthat thou lovest Him always. Thou wilt love Him, and endure my death\npatiently? For then He will unite us. I love thee and I wish to be with\nthee.\"\n\nBreath failed her then, and in a barely audible voice she finished,\n\n\"Promise me this, Marcus!\"\n\nVinicius embraced her with trembling arms, and said,\n\n\"By thy sacred head! I promise.\"\n\nHer pale face became radiant in the sad light of the moon, and once more\nshe raised his hand to her lips, and whispered,--\n\n\"I am thy wife!\"\n\nBeyond the wall the pretorians playing scriptoe duodecim raised a louder\ndispute; but Vinicius and Lygia forgot the prison, the guards, the\nworld, and, feeling within them the souls of angels, they began to pray.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LX\n\n\nFOR three days, or rather three nights, nothing disturbed their peace.\nWhen the usual prison work was finished, which consisted in separating\nthe dead from the living and the grievously sick from those in better\nhealth, when the wearied guards had lain down to sleep in the corridors,\nVinicius entered Lygia's dungeon and remained there till daylight. She\nput her head on his breast, and they talked in low voices of love and\nof death. In thought and speech, in desires and hopes even, both were\nremoved unconsciously more and more from life, and they lost the sense\nof it. Both were like people who, having sailed from land in a ship,\nsaw the shore no more, and were sinking gradually into infinity. Both\nchanged by degrees into sad souls in love with each other and with\nChrist, and ready to fly away. Only at times did pain start up in the\nheart of Vinicius like a whirlwind, at times there flashed in him like\nlightning, hope, born of love and faith in the crucified God; but he\ntore himself away more and more each day from the earth, and yielded to\ndeath. In the morning, when he went from the prison, he looked on the\nworld, on the city, on acquaintances, on vital interests, as through a\ndream. Everything seemed to him strange, distant, vain, fleeting. Even\ntorture ceased to terrify, since one might pass through it while sunk\nin thought and with eyes fixed on another thing. It seemed to both that\neternity had begun to receive them. They conversed of how they would\nlove and live together, but beyond the grave; and if their thoughts\nreturned to the earth at intervals, these were thoughts of people who,\nsetting out on a long journey, speak of preparations for the road.\nMoreover they were surrounded by such silence as in some desert\nsurrounds two columns far away and forgotten. Their only care was that\nChrist should not separate them; and as each moment strengthened their\nconviction that He would not, they loved Him as a link uniting them in\nendless happiness and peace. While still on earth, the dust of earth\nfell from them. The soul of each was as pure as a tear. Under terror of\ndeath, amid misery and suffering, in that prison den, heaven had begun,\nfor she had taken him by the hand, and, as if saved and a saint, had led\nhim to the source of endless life.\n\nPetronius was astonished at seeing in the face of Vinicius increasing\npeace and a certain wonderful serenity which he had not noted before. At\ntimes even he supposed that Vinicius had found some mode of rescue, and\nhe was piqued because his nephew had not confided his hopes to him. At\nlast, unable to restrain himself, he said,--\n\n\"Now thou hast another look; do not keep from me secrets, for I wish and\nam able to aid thee. Hast thou arranged anything?\"\n\n\"I have,\" said Vinicius; \"but thou canst not help me. After her death I\nwill confess that I am a Christian and follow her.\"\n\n\"Then thou hast no hope?\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I have. Christ will give her to me, and I shall never\nbe separated from her.\"\n\nPetronius began to walk in the atrium; disillusion and impatience were\nevident on his face.\n\n\"Thy Christ is not needed for this,--our Thanatos [death] can render the\nsame service.\"\n\nVinicius smiled sadly, and said,--\"No, my dear, thou art unwilling to\nunderstand.\"\n\n\"I am unwilling and unable. It is not the time for discussion, but\nremember what I said when we failed to free her from the Tullianum. I\nlost all hope, and on the way home thou didst say, 'But I believe that\nChrist can restore her to me.' Let Him restore her. If I throw a costly\ngoblet into the sea, no god of ours can give it back to me; if yours is\nno better, I know not why I should honor Him beyond the old ones.\"\n\n\"But He will restore her to me.\"\n\nPettonius shrugged his shoulders. \"Dost know,\" inquired he, \"that\nChristians are to illuminate Cæsar's gardens to-morrow?\"\n\n\"To-morrow?\" repeated Vinicius.\n\nAnd in view of the near and dreadful reality his heart trembled with\npain and fear. \"This is the last night, perhaps, which I can pass with\nLygia,\" thought he. So bidding farewell to Petronius, he went hurriedly\nto the overseer of the \"Putrid Pits\" for his tessera. But disappointment\nwas in waiting,--the overseer would not give the tessera.\n\n\"Pardon me,\" said he, \"I have done what I could for thee, but I cannot\nrisk my life. To-night they are to conduct the Christians to Cæsar's\ngardens. The prisons will be full of soldiers and officials. Shouldst\nthou be recognized, I and my children would be lost.\"\n\nVinicius understood that it would be vain to insist. The hope gleamed in\nhim, however, that the soldiers who had seen him before would admit\nhim even without a tessera; so, with the coming of night, he disguised\nhimself as usual in the tunic of a corpse-bearer, and, winding a cloth\naround his head, betook himself to the prison.\n\nBut that day the tesseræ were verified with greater care than usual; and\nwhat was more, the centurion Scevinus, a strict soldier, devoted soul\nand body to Cæsar, recognized Vinicius. But evidently in his iron-clad\nbreast there glimmered yet some spark of pity for misfortunes. Instead\nof striking his spear in token of alarm, he led Vinicius aside and\nsaid,--\n\n\"Return to thy house, lord. I recognize thee; but not wishing thy ruin,\nI am silent. I cannot admit thee; go thy way, and may the gods send thee\nsolace.\"\n\n\"Thou canst not admit me,\" said Vinicius, \"but let me stand here and\nlook at those who are led forth.\"\n\n\"My order does not forbid that,\" said Scevinus.\n\nVinicius stood before the gate and waited. About midnight the prison\ngate was opened widely, and whole ranks of prisoners appeared,--men,\nwomen, and children, surrounded by armed pretorians. The night was very\nbright; hence it was possible to distinguish not only the forms, but\nthe faces of the unfortunates. They went two abreast, in a long, gloomy\ntrain, amid stillness broken only by the clatter of weapons. So many\nwere led out that all the dungeons must be empty, as it seemed. In the\nrear of the line Vinicius saw Glaucus the physician distinctly, but\nLygia and Ursus were not among the condemned.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXI\n\n\nDARKNESS had not come when the first waves of people began to flow into\nCæsar's gardens. The crowds, in holiday costume, crowned with flowers,\njoyous, singing, and some of them drunk, were going to look at the new,\nmagnificent spectacle. Shouts of \"Semaxii! Sarmentitii!\" were heard on\nthe Via Tecta, on the bridge of Æmilius, and from the other side of the\nTiber, on the Triumphal Way, around the Circus of Nero, and off towards\nthe Vatican Hill. In Rome people had been seen burnt on pillars before,\nbut never had any one seen such a number of victims.\n\nCæsar and Tigellinus, wishing to finish at once with the Christians and\nalso to avoid infection, which from the prisons was spreading more and\nmore through the city, had given command to empty all dungeons, so that\nthere remained in them barely a few tens of people intended for the\nclose of the spectacles. So, when the crowds had passed the gates,\nthey were dumb with amazement. All the main and side alleys, which\nlay through dense groves and along lawns, thickets, ponds, fields,\nand squares filled with flowers, were packed with pillars smeared with\npitch, to which Christians were fastened. In higher places, where the\nview was not hindered by trees, one could see whole rows of pillars and\nbodies decked with flowers, myrtle, and ivy, extending into the distance\non high and low places, so far that, though the nearest were like masts\nof ships, the farthest seemed colored darts, or staffs thrust into the\nearth. The number of them surpassed the expectation of the multitude.\nOne might suppose that a whole nation had been lashed to pillars for\nRome's amusement and for Cæsar's. The throng of spectators stopped\nbefore single masts when their curiosity was roused by the form or the\nsex of the victim; they looked at the faces, the crowns, the garlands\nof ivy; then they went farther and farther, asking themselves with\namazement, \"Could there have been so many criminals, or how could\nchildren barely able to walk have set fire to Rome?\" and astonishment\npassed by degrees into fear.\n\nMeanwhile darkness came, and the first stars twinkled in the sky. Near\neach condemned person a slave took his place, torch in hand; when the\nsound of trumpets was heard in various parts of the gardens, in sign\nthat the spectacle was to begin, each slave put his torch to the foot\nof a pillar. The straw, hidden under the flowers and steeped in pitch,\nburned at once with a bright flame which, increasing every instant,\nwithered the ivy, and rising embraced the feet of the victims. The\npeople were silent; the gardens resounded with one immense groan and\nwith cries of pain. Some victims, however, raising their faces toward\nthe starry sky, began to sing, praising Christ. The people listened.\nBut the hardest hearts were filled with terror when, on smaller pillars,\nchildren cried with shrill voices, \"Mamma! Mamma!\" A shiver ran through\neven spectators who were drunk when they saw little heads and innocent\nfaces distorted with pain, or children fainting in the smoke which began\nto stifle them. But the flames rose, and seized new crowns of roses and\nivy every instant. The main and side alleys were illuminated; the groups\nof trees, the lawns, and the flowery squares were illuminated; the water\nin pools and ponds was gleaming, the trembling leaves on the trees had\ngrown rose-colored, and all was as visible as in daylight. When the odor\nof burnt bodies filled the gardens, slaves sprinkled between the pillars\nmyrrh and aloes prepared purposely. In the crowds were heard here and\nthere shouts,--whether of sympathy or delight and joy, it was unknown;\nand they increased every moment with the fire, which embraced the\npillars, climbed to the breasts of the victims, shrivelled with burning\nbreath the hair on their heads, threw veils over their blackened faces,\nand then shot up higher, as if showing the victory and triumph of that\npower which had given command to rouse it.\n\nAt the very beginning of the spectacle Cæsar had appeared among the\npeople in a magnificent quadriga of the Circus, drawn by four white\nsteeds. He was dressed as a charioteer in the color of the Greens,--the\ncourt party and his. After him followed other chariots filled with\ncourtiers in brilliant array, senators, priests, bacchantes, naked\nand crowned, holding pitchers of wine, and partly drunk, uttering wild\nshouts. At the side of these were musicians dressed as fauns and satyrs,\nwho played on citharas, formingas, flutes, and horns. In other chariots\nadvanced matrons and maidens of Rome, drunk also and half naked. Around\nthe quadriga ran men who shook thyrses ornamented with ribbons; others\nbeat drums; others scattered flowers.\n\nAll that brilliant throng moved forward, shouting, \"Evoe!\" on the widest\nroad of the garden, amidst smoke and processions of people. Cæsar,\nkeeping near him Tigellinus and also Chilo, in whose terror he sought\nto find amusement, drove the steeds himself, and, advancing at a walk,\nlooked at the burning bodies, and heard the shouts of the multitude.\nStanding on the lofty gilded chariot, surrounded by a sea of people who\nbent to his feet, in the glitter of the fire, in the golden crown of\na circus-victor, he was a head above the courtiers and the crowd. He\nseemed a giant. His immense arms, stretched forward to hold the reins,\nseemed to bless the multitude. There was a smile on his face and in his\nblinking eyes; he shone above the throng as a sun or a deity, terrible\nbut commanding and mighty.\n\nAt times he stopped to look with more care at some maiden whose bosom\nhad begun to shrink in the flames, or at the face of a child distorted\nby convulsions; and again he drove on, leading behind him a wild,\nexcited retinue. At times he bowed to the people, then again he bent\nbackward, drew in the golden reins, and spoke to Tigellinus. At last,\nwhen he had reached the great fountain in the middle of two crossing\nstreets, he stepped from the quadriga, and, nodding to his attendants,\nmingled with the throng.\n\nHe was greeted with shouts and plaudits. The bacchantes, the nymphs, the\nsenators and Augustians, the priests, the fauns, satyrs, and soldiers\nsurrounded him at once in an excited circle; but he, with Tigellinus on\none side and Chilo on the other, walked around the fountain, about which\nwere burning some tens of torches; stopping before each one, he made\nremarks on the victims, or jeered at the old Greek, on whose face\nboundless despair was depicted.\n\nAt last he stood before a lofty mast decked with myrtle and ivy. The red\ntongues of fire had risen only to the knees of the victim; but it was\nimpossible to see his face, for the green burning twigs had covered it\nwith smoke. After a while, however, the light breeze of night turned\naway the smoke and uncovered the head of a man with gray beard falling\non his breast.\n\nAt sight of him Chilo was twisted into a lump like a wounded snake, and\nfrom his mouth came a cry more like cawing than a human voice.\n\n\"Glaucus! Glaucus!\"\n\nIn fact, Glaucus the physician looked down from the burning pillar at\nhim. Glaucus was alive yet. His face expressed pain, and was inclined\nforward, as if to look closely for the last time at his executioner,\nat the man who had betrayed him, robbed him of wife and children, set a\nmurderer on him, and who, when all this had been forgiven in the name\nof Christ, had delivered him to executioners. Never had one person\ninflicted more dreadful or bloody wrongs on another. Now the victim was\nburning on the pitched pillar, and the executioner was standing at\nhis feet. The eyes of Glaucus did nor leave the face of the Greek. At\nmoments they were hidden by smoke; but when the breeze blew this away,\nChilo saw again those eyes fixed on him. He rose and tried to flee, but\nhad not strength. All at once his legs seemed of lead; an invisible\nhand seemed to hold him at that pillar with superhuman force. He was\npetrified. He felt that something was overflowing in him, something\ngiving way; he felt that he had had a surfeit of blood and torture,\nthat the end of his life was approaching, that everything was vanishing,\nCæsar, the court, the multitude, and around him was only a kind of\nbottomless, dreadful black vacuum with no visible thing in it, save\nthose eyes of a martyr which were summoning him to judgment. But\nGlaucus, bending his head lower down, looked at him fixedly. Those\npresent divined that something was taking place between those two men.\nLaughter died on their lips, however, for in Chilo's face there was\nsomething terrible: such pain and fear had distorted it as if those\ntongues of fire were burning his body. On a sudden he staggered, and,\nstretching his arms upward, cried in a terrible and piercing voice,--\n\n\"Glaucus! in Christ's name! forgive me!\"\n\nIt grew silent round about, a quiver ran through the spectators, and all\neyes were raised involuntarily.\n\nThe head of the martyr moved slightly, and from the top of the mast was\nheard a voice like a groan,--\n\n\"I forgive!\"\n\nChilo threw himself on his face, and howled like a wild beast; grasping\nearth in both hands, he sprinkled it on his head. Meanwhile the flames\nshot up, seizing the breast and face of Glaucus; they unbound the myrtle\ncrown on his head, and seized the ribbons on the top of the pillar, the\nwhole of which shone with great blazing.\n\nChilo stood up after a while with face so changed that to the Augustians\nhe seemed another man. His eyes flashed with a light new to him, ecstasy\nissued from his wrinkled forehead; the Greek, incompetent a short time\nbefore, looked now like some priest visited by a divinity and ready to\nreveal unknown truths.\n\n\"What is the matter? Has he gone mad?\" asked a number of voices.\n\nBut he turned to the multitude, and, raising his right hand, cried, or\nrather shouted, in a voice so piercing that not only the Augustians but\nthe multitude heard him,--\n\n\"Roman people! I swear by my death, that innocent persons are perishing\nhere. That is the incendiary!\"\n\nAnd he pointed his finger at Nero.\n\nThen came a moment of silence. The courtiers were benumbed. Chilo\ncontinued to stand with outstretched, trembling arm, and with finger\npointed at Nero. All at once a tumult arose. The people, like a wave,\nurged by a sudden whirlwind, rushed toward the old man to look at him\nmore closely. Here and there were heard cries, \"Hold!\" In another place,\n\"Woe to us!\" In the throng a hissing and uproar began. \"Ahenobarbus!\nMatricide! Incendiary!\" Disorder increased every instant. The bacchantes\nscreamed in heaven-piercing voices, and began to hide in the chariots.\nThen some pillars which were burned through, fell, scattered sparks, and\nincreased the confusion. A blind dense wave of people swept away Chilo,\nand bore him to the depth of the garden.\n\nThe pillars began to burn through in every direction and fall across the\nstreets, filling alleys with smoke, sparks, the odor of burnt wood and\nburnt flesh. The nearer lights died. The gardens began to grow dark. The\ncrowds, alarmed, gloomy, and disturbed, pressed toward the gates.\nNews of what had happened passed from mouth to mouth, distorted\nand increased. Some said that Cæsar had fainted; others that he had\nconfessed, saying that he had given command to burn Rome; others that he\nhad fallen seriously ill; and still others that he had been borne out,\nas if dead, in the chariot. Here and there were heard voices of sympathy\nfor the Christians: \"If they had not burned Rome, why so much blood,\ntorture, and injustice? Will not the gods avenge the innocent, and what\npiacula can mollify them now?\" The words innoxia corpora were repeated\noftener and oftener. Women expressed aloud their pity for children\nthrown in such numbers to wild beasts, nailed to crosses or burned in\nthose cursed gardens! And finally pity was turned into abuse of Cæsar\nand Tigellinus. There were persons, too, who, stopping suddenly, asked\nthemselves or others the question, \"What kind of divinity is that which\ngives such strength to meet torture and death?\" And they returned home\nin meditation.\n\nBut Chilo was wandering about in the gardens, not knowing where to go or\nwhere to turn. Again he felt himself a weak, helpless, sick old man.\n\nNow he stumbled against partly burnt bodies; now he struck a torch,\nwhich sent a shower of sparks after him; now he sat down, and looked\naround with vacant stare. The gardens had become almost dark. The pale\nmoon moving among the trees shone with uncertain light on the alleys,\nthe dark pillars lying across them, and the partly burnt victims turned\ninto shapeless lumps. But the old Greek thought that in the moon he saw\nthe face of Glaucus, whose eyes were looking at him yet persistently,\nand he hid before the light. At last he went out of the shadow, in spite\nof himself; as if pushed by some hidden power, he turned toward the\nfountain where Glaucus had yielded up the spirit.\n\nThen some hand touched his shoulder. He turned, and saw an unknown\nperson before him.\n\n\"Who art thou?\" exclaimed he, with terror.\n\n\"Paul of Tarsus.\"\n\n\"I am accursed!--What dost thou wish?\"\n\n\"I wish to save thee,\" answered the Apostle.\n\nChilo supported himself against a tree. His legs bent under him, and his\narms hung parallel with his body.\n\n\"For me there is no salvation,\" said he, gloomily.\n\n\"Hast thou heard how God forgave the thief on the cross who pitied Him?\"\ninquired Paul.\n\n\"Dost thou know what I have done?\"\n\n\"I saw thy suffering, and heard thy testimony to the truth.\"\n\n\"O Lord!\"\n\n\"And if a servant of Christ forgave thee in the hour of torture and\ndeath, why should Christ not forgive thee?\"\n\nChilo seized his head with both hands, as if in bewilderment.\n\n\"Forgiveness! for me, forgiveness!\"\n\n\"Our God is a God of mercy,\" said Paul.\n\n\"For me?\" repeated Chilo; and he began to groan like a man who lacks\nstrength to control his pain and suffering.\n\n\"Lean on me,\" said Paul, \"and go with me.\"\n\nAnd taking him he went to the crossing of the streets, guided by the\nvoice of the fountain, which seemed to weep in the night stillness over\nthe bodies of those who had died in torture.\n\n\"Our God is a God of mercy,\" repeated the Apostle. \"Wert thou to stand\nat the sea and cast in pebbles, couldst thou fill its depth with them? I\ntell thee that the mercy of Christ is as the sea, and that the sins and\nfaults of men sink in it as pebbles in the abyss; I tell thee that it\nis like the sky which covers mountains, lands, and seas, for it is\neverywhere and has neither end nor limit. Thou hast suffered at the\npillar of Glaucus. Christ saw thy suffering. Without reference to what\nmay meet thee to-morrow, thou didst say, 'That is the incendiary,' and\nChrist remembers thy words. Thy malice and falsehood are gone; in thy\nheart is left only boundless sorrow. Follow me and listen to what I say.\nI am he who hated Christ and persecuted His chosen ones. I did not want\nHim, I did not believe in Him till He manifested Himself and called me.\nSince then He is, for me, mercy. He has visited thee with compunction,\nwith alarm, and with pain, to call thee to Himself. Thou didst hate Him,\nbut He loved thee. Thou didst deliver His confessors to torture, but He\nwishes to forgive and save thee.\"\n\nImmense sobbing shook the breast of the wretched man, sobbing by which\nthe soul in him was rent to its depths; but Paul took possession of him,\nmastered him, led him away, as a soldier leads a captive.\n\nAfter a while the Apostle began again to speak:--\n\n\"Come with me; I will lead thee to Him. For why else have I come to\nthee?\n\n\"Christ commanded me to gather in souls in the name of love; hence I\nperform His service. Thou thinkest thyself accursed, but I say: Believe\nin Him, and salvation awaits thee. Thou thinkest that thou art hated,\nbut I repeat that He loves thee. Look at me. Before I had Him I had\nnothing save malice, which dwelt in my heart, and now His love suffices\nme instead of father and mother, wealth and power. In Him alone is\nrefuge. He alone will see thy sorrow, believe in thy misery, remove thy\nalarm, and raise thee to Himself.\"\n\nThus speaking, he led him to the fountain, the silver stream of which\ngleamed from afar in the moonlight. Round about was silence; the gardens\nwere empty, for slaves had removed the charred pillars and the bodies of\nthe martyrs.\n\nChilo threw himself on his knees with a groan, and hiding his face in\nhis hands remained motionless. Paul raised his face to the stars. \"O\nLord,\" prayed he, \"look on this wretched man, on his sorrow, his tears,\nand his suffering! O God of mercy, who hast shed Thy blood for our sins,\nforgive him, through Thy torment, Thy death and resurrection!\"\n\nThen he was silent; but for a long time he looked toward the stars, and\nprayed.\n\nMeanwhile from under his feet was heard a cry which resembled a groan,--\n\n\"O Christ! O Christ! forgive me!\"\n\nPaul approached the fountain then, and, taking water in his hand, turned\nto the kneeling wretch,--\n\n\"Chilo!--I baptize thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Spirit.\nAmen!\"\n\nChilo raised his head, opened his arms, and remained in that posture.\nThe moon shone with full light on his white hair and on his equally\nwhite face, which was as motionless as if dead or cut out of stone. The\nmoments passed one after another. From the great aviaries in the gardens\nof Domitian came the crowing of cocks; but Chilo remained kneeling, like\na statue on a monument. At last he recovered, spoke to the Apostle, and\nasked,--\n\n\"What am I to do before death?\"\n\nPaul was roused also from meditation on the measureless power which even\nsuch spirits as that of this Greek could not resist, and answered,--\n\n\"Have faith, and bear witness to the truth.\"\n\nThey went out together. At the gate the Apostle blessed the old man\nagain, and they parted. Chilo himself insisted on this, for after what\nhad happened he knew that Cæsar and Tigellinus would give command to\npursue him.\n\nIndeed he was not mistaken. When he returned home, he found the house\nsurrounded by pretorians, who led him away, and took him under direction\nof Scevinus to the Palatine.\n\nCæsar had gone to rest, but Tigellinus was waiting. When he saw the\nunfortunate Greek, he greeted him with a calm but ominous face.\n\n\"Thou hast committed the crime of treason,\" said he, \"and punishment\nwill not pass thee; but if to-morrow thou testify in the amphitheatre\nthat thou wert drunk and mad, and that the authors of the conflagration\nare Christians, thy punishment will be limited to stripes and exile.\"\n\n\"I cannot do that,\" answered Chilo, calmly.\n\nTigellinus approached him with slow step, and with a voice also low but\nterrible,--\n\n\"How is that?\" asked he. \"Thou canst not, Greek dog? Wert thou not\ndrunk, and dost thou not understand what is waiting for thee? Look\nthere!\" and he pointed to a corner of the atrium in which, near a long\nwooden bench, stood four Thracian slaves in the shade with ropes, and\nwith pincers in their hands.\n\nBut Chilo answered,--\n\n\"I cannot!\"\n\nRage seized Tigellinus, but he restrained himself yet.\n\n\"Hast thou seen,\" inquired he, \"how Christians die? Dost wish to die in\nthat way?\"\n\nThe old man raised his pale face; for a time his lips moved in silence,\nand he answered,--\n\n\"I too believe in Christ.\"\n\nTigellinus looked at him with amazement. \"Dog, thou hast gone mad in\nfact!\"\n\nAnd suddenly the rage in his breast broke its bounds. Springing at\nChilo, he caught him by the beard with both hands, hurled him to the\nfloor, trampled him, repeating, with foam on his lips,--\n\n\"Thou wilt retract! thou wilt!\"\n\n\"I cannot!\" answered Chilo from the floor.\n\n\"To the tortures with him!\"\n\nAt this command the Thracians seized the old man, and placed him on the\nbench; then, fastening him with ropes to it, they began to squeeze his\nthin shanks with pincers. But when they were tying him he kissed their\nhands with humility; then he closed his eyes, and seemed dead.\n\nHe was alive, though; for when Tigellinus bent over him and inquired\nonce again, \"Wilt thou retract?\" his white lips moved slightly, and from\nthem came the barely audible whisper,--\n\n\"I cannot.\"\n\nTigellinus gave command to stop the torture, and began to walk up and\ndown in the atrium with a face distorted by anger, but helpless. At last\na new idea came to his head, for he turned to the Thracians and said,--\n\n\"Tear out his tongue!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXII\n\n\nTHE drama \"Aureolus\" was given usually in theatres or amphitheatres,\nso arranged that they could open and present as it were two separate\nstages. But after the spectacle in the gardens of Cæsar the usual method\nwas omitted; for in this case the problem was to let the greatest number\nof people look at a slave who, in the drama, is devoured by a bear. In\nthe theatres the role of the bear is played by an actor sewed up in a\nskin, but this time the representation was to be real. This was a new\nidea of Tigellinus. At first Cæsar refused to come, but changed his mind\nat persuasion of the favorite. Tigellinus explained that after what had\nhappened in the gardens it was all the more his duty to appear before\nthe people, and he guaranteed that the crucified slave would not\ninsult him as had Crispus. The people were somewhat sated and tired of\nblood-spilling; hence a new distribution of lottery tickets and gifts\nwas promised, as well as a feast, for the spectacle was to be in the\nevening, in a brilliantly lighted amphitheatre.\n\nAbout dusk the whole amphitheatre was packed; the Augustians, with\nTigellinus at the head of them, came to a man,--not only for the\nspectacle itself, but to show their devotion to Cæsar and their opinion\nof Chilo, of whom all Rome was then talking.\n\nThey whispered to one another that Cæsar, when returning from the\ngardens, had fallen into a frenzy and could not sleep, that terrors and\nwonderful visions had attacked him; therefore he had announced on the\nfollowing morning his early journey to Achæa. But others denied this,\ndeclaring that he would be all the more pitiless to the Christians.\nCowards, however, were not lacking, who foresaw that the accusation\nwhich Chilo had thrown into Cæsar's face might have the worst result\npossible. In conclusion, there were those who through humanity begged\nTigellinus to stop persecution.\n\n\"See whither ye are going,\" said Barcus Soranus. \"Ye wished to allay\npeople's anger and convince them that punishment was falling on the\nguilty; the result is just the opposite.\"\n\n\"True!\" added Antistius Verus, \"all whisper to one another now that the\nChristians were innocent. If that be cleverness, Chilo was right when he\nsaid that your brains could be held in a nutshell.\"\n\nTigellinus turned to them and said: \"Barcus Soranus, people whisper also\nto one another that thy daughter Servilia secreted her Christian slaves\nfrom Cæsar's justice; they say the same also of thy wife, Antistius.\"\n\n\"That is not true!\" exclaimed Barcus, with alarm.\n\n\"Your divorced women wished to ruin my wife, whose virtue they envy,\"\nsaid Antistius Verus, with no less alarm.\n\nBut others spoke of Chilo.\n\n\"What has happened to him?\" asked Eprius Marcellus. \"He delivered them\nhimself into the hands of Tigellinus; from a beggar he became rich;\nit was possible for him to live out his days in peace, have a splendid\nfuneral, and a tomb: but, no! All at once he preferred to lose\neverything and destroy himself; he must, in truth, be a maniac.\"\n\n\"Not a maniac, but he has become a Christian,\" said Tigellinus.\n\n\"Impossible!\" said Vitelius.\n\n\"Have I not said,\" put in Vestinius, \"'Kill Christians if ye like;\nbut believe me ye cannot war with their divinity. With it there is no\njesting'? See what is taking place. I have not burned Rome; but if Cæsar\npermitted I would give a hecatomb at once to their divinity. And all\nshould do the same, for I repeat: With it there is no jesting! Remember\nmy words to you.\"\n\n\"And I said something else,\" added Petronius. \"Tigellinus laughed when I\nsaid that they were arming, but I say more,--they are conquering.\"\n\n\"How is that? how is that?\" inquired a number of voices.\n\n\"By Pollux, they are! For if such a man as Chilo could not resist them,\nwho can? If ye think that after every spectacle the Christians do not\nincrease, become coppersmiths, or go to shaving beards, for then ye will\nknow better what people think, and what is happening in the city.\"\n\n\"He speaks pure truth, by the sacred peplus of Diana,\" cried Vestinius.\n\nBut Barcus turned to Petronius.\n\n\"What is thy conclusion?\"\n\n\"I conclude where ye began,--there has been enough of bloodshed.\"\n\nTigellinus looked at him jeeringly,--\"Ei!--a little more!\"\n\n\"If thy head is not sufficient, thou hast another on thy cane,\" said\nPetronius.\n\nFurther conversation was interrupted by the coming of Cæsar, who\noccupied his place in company with Pythagoras. Immediately after began\nthe representation of \"Aureolus,\" to which not much attention was paid,\nfor the minds of the audience were fixed on Chilo. The spectators,\nfamiliar with blood and torture, were bored; they hissed, gave out\nshouts uncomplimentary to the court, and demanded the bear scene, which\nfor them was the only thing of interest. Had it not been for gifts\nand the hope of seeing Chilo, the spectacle would not have held the\naudience.\n\nAt last the looked-for moment came. Servants of the Circus brought in\nfirst a wooden cross, so low that a bear standing on his hind feet might\nreach the martyr's breast; then two men brought, or rather dragged in,\nChilo, for as the bones in his legs were broken, he was unable to walk\nalone. They laid him down and nailed him to the wood so quickly that the\ncurious Augustians had not even a good look at him, and only after the\ncross had been fixed in the place prepared for it did all eyes turn to\nthe victim. But it was a rare person who could recognize in that naked\nman the former Chilo. After the tortures which Tigellinus had commanded,\nthere was not one drop of blood in his face, and only on his white beard\nwas evident a red trace left by blood after they had torn his tongue\nout. Through the transparent skin it was quite possible to see his\nbones. He seemed far older also, almost decrepit. Formerly his eyes\ncast glances ever filled with disquiet and ill-will, his watchful face\nreflected constant alarm and uncertainty; now his face had an expression\nof pain, but it was as mild and calm as faces of the sleeping or the\ndead. Perhaps remembrance of that thief on the cross whom Christ had\nforgiven lent him confidence; perhaps, also, he said in his soul to the\nmerciful God,\n\n\"O Lord, I bit like a venomous worm; but all my life I was unfortunate.\nI was famishing from hunger, people trampled on me, beat me, jeered at\nme. I was poor and very unhappy, and now they put me to torture and nail\nme to a cross; but Thou, O Merciful, wilt not reject me in this hour!\"\nPeace descended evidently into his crushed heart. No one laughed, for\nthere was in that crucified man something so calm, he seemed so old, so\ndefenceless, so weak, calling so much for pity with his lowliness, that\neach one asked himself unconsciously how it was possible to torture\nand nail to crosses men who would die soon in any case. The crowd was\nsilent. Among the Augustians Vestinius, bending to right and left,\nwhispered in a terrified voice, \"See how they die!\" Others were looking\nfor the bear, wishing the spectacle to end at the earliest.\n\nThe bear came into the arena at last, and, swaying from side to side a\nhead which hung low, he looked around from beneath his forehead, as if\nthinking of something or seeking something. At last he saw the cross and\nthe naked body. He approached it, and stood on his hind legs; but after\na moment he dropped again on his fore-paws, and sitting under the cross\nbegan to growl, as if in his heart of a beast pity for that remnant of a\nman had made itself heard.\n\nCries were heard from Circus slaves urging on the bear, but the people\nwere silent.\n\nMeanwhile Chilo raised his head with slow motion, and for a time moved\nhis eyes over the audience. At last his glance rested somewhere on the\nhighest rows of the amphitheatre; his breast moved with more life,\nand something happened which caused wonder and astonishment. That face\nbecame bright with a smile; a ray of light, as it were, encircled that\nforehead; his eyes were uplifted before death, and after a while two\ngreat tears which had risen between the lids flowed slowly down his\nface.\n\nAnd he died.\n\nAt that same moment a resonant manly voice high up under the velarium\nexclaimed,--\n\n\"Peace to the martyrs!\"\n\nDeep silence reigned in the amphitheatre.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXIII\n\n\nAFTER the spectacle in Cæsar's gardens the prisons were emptied\nconsiderably. It is true that victims suspected of the Oriental\nsuperstition were seized yet and imprisoned, but pursuit brought in\nfewer and fewer persons,--barely enough for coming exhibitions, which\nwere to follow quickly. People were sated with blood; they showed\ngrowing weariness, and increasing alarm because of the unparalleled\nconduct of the condemned. Fears like those of the superstitious\nVestinius seized thousands of people. Among the crowds tales more and\nmore wonderful were related of the vengefulness of the Christian God.\nPrison typhus, which had spread through the city, increased the general\ndread. The number of funerals was evident, and it was repeated from\near to ear that fresh piacula were needed to mollify the unknown god.\nOfferings were made in the temples to Jove and Libitina. At last, in\nspite of every effort of Tigellinus and his assistants, the opinion kept\nspreading that the city had been burned at command of Cæsar, and that\nthe Christians were suffering innocently.\n\nBut for this very reason Nero and Tigellinus were untiring in\npersecution. To calm the multitude, fresh orders were issued to\ndistribute wheat, wine, and olives. To relieve owners, new rules were\npublished to facilitate the building of houses; and others touching\nwidth of streets and materials to be used in building so as to avoid\nfires in future. Cæsar himself attended sessions of the Senate, and\ncounselled with the \"fathers\" on the good of the people and the city;\nbut not a shadow of favor fell on the doomed. The ruler of the world\nwas anxious, above all, to fix in people's minds a conviction that such\nmerciless punishments could strike only the guilty. In the Senate no\nvoice was heard on behalf of the Christians, for no one wished to offend\nCæsar; and besides, those who looked farther into the future insisted\nthat the foundations of Roman rule could not stand against the new\nfaith.\n\nThe dead and the dying were given to their relatives, as Roman law took\nno vengeance on the dead. Vinicius received a certain solace from the\nthought that if Lygia died he would bury her in his family tomb,\nand rest near her. At that time he had no hope of rescuing her; half\nseparated from life, he was himself wholly absorbed in Christ, and\ndreamed no longer of any union except an eternal one. His faith had\nbecome simply boundless; for it eternity seemed something incomparably\ntruer and more real than the fleeting life which he had lived up to that\ntime. His heart was overflowing with concentrated enthusiasm. Though\nyet alive, he had changed into a being almost immaterial, which desiring\ncomplete liberation for itself desired it also for another. He imagined\nthat when free he and Lygia would each take the other's hand and go to\nheaven, where Christ would bless them, and let them live in light as\npeaceful and boundless as the light of dawn. He merely implored Christ\nto spare Lygia the torments of the Circus, and let her fall asleep\ncalmly in prison; he felt with perfect certainty that he himself would\ndie at the same time. In view of the sea of blood which had been shed,\nhe did not even think it permitted to hope that she alone would be\nspared. He had heard from Peter and Paul that they, too, must die as\nmartyrs. The sight of Chilo on the cross had convinced him that even a\nmartyr's death could be sweet; hence he wished it for Lygia and himself\nas the change of an evil, sad, and oppressive fate for a better.\n\nAt times he had a foretaste of life beyond the grave. That sadness which\nhung over the souls of both was losing its former burning bitterness,\nand changing gradually into a kind of trans-terrestrial, calm abandon to\nthe will of God. Vinicius, who formerly had toiled against the current,\nhad struggled and tortured himself, yielded now to the stream, believing\nthat it would bear him to eternal calm. He divined, too, that Lygia, as\nwell as he, was preparing for death,--that, in spite of the prison walls\nseparating them, they were advancing together; and he smiled at that\nthought as at happiness.\n\nIn fact, they were advancing with as much agreement as if they had\nexchanged thoughts every day for a long time. Neither had Lygia any\ndesire, any hope, save the hope of a life beyond the grave. Death was\npresented to her not only as a liberation from the terrible walls of the\nprison, from the hands of Cæsar and Tigellinus,--not only as liberation,\nbut as the hour of her marriage to Vinicius. In view of this unshaken\ncertainty, all else lost importance. After death would come her\nhappiness, which was even earthly, so that she waited for it also as a\nbetrothed waits for the wedding-day.\n\nAnd that immense current of faith, which swept away from life and bore\nbeyond the grave thousands of those first confessors, bore away Ursus\nalso. Neither had he in his heart been resigned to Lygia's death;\nbut when day after day through the prison walls came news of what was\nhappening in the amphitheatres and the gardens, when death seemed the\ncommon, inevitable lot of all Christians and also their good, higher\nthan all mortal conceptions of happiness, he did not dare to pray to\nChrist to deprive Lygia of that happiness or to delay it for long years.\nIn his simple barbarian soul he thought, besides, that more of those\nheavenly delights would belong to the daughter of the Lygian chief, that\nshe would have more of them than would a whole crowd of simple ones to\nwhom he himself belonged, and that in eternal glory she would sit nearer\nto the \"Lamb\" than would others. He had heard, it is true, that before\nGod men are equal; but a conviction was lingering at the bottom of his\nsoul that the daughter of a leader, and besides of a leader of all the\nLygians, was not the same as the first slave one might meet. He hoped\nalso that Christ would let him continue to serve her. His one secret\nwish was to die on a cross as the \"Lamb\" died. But this seemed a\nhappiness so great that he hardly dared to pray for it, though he knew\nthat in Rome even the worst criminals were crucified. He thought that\nsurely he would be condemned to die under the teeth of wild beasts;\nand this was his one sorrow. From childhood he had lived in impassable\nforests, amid continual hunts, in which, thanks to his superhuman\nstrength, he was famous among the Lygians even before he had grown to\nmanhood. This occupation had become for him so agreeable that later,\nwhen in Rome, and forced to live without hunting, he went to vivaria and\namphitheatres just to look at beasts known and unknown to him. The sight\nof these always roused in the man an irresistible desire for struggle\nand killing; so now he feared in his soul that on meeting them in the\namphitheatre he would be attacked by thoughts unworthy of a Christian,\nwhose duty it was to die piously and patiently. But in this he committed\nhimself to Christ, and found other and more agreeable thoughts to\ncomfort him. Hearing that the \"Lamb\" had declared war against the powers\nof hell and evil spirits with which the Christian faith connected all\npagan divinities, he thought that in this war he might serve the \"Lamb\"\ngreatly, and serve better than others, for he could not help believing\nthat his soul was stronger than the souls of other martyrs. Finally, he\nprayed whole days, rendered service to prisoners, helped overseers, and\ncomforted his queen, who complained at times that in her short life she\nhad not been able to do so many good deeds as the renowned Tabitha of\nwhom Peter the Apostle had told her. Even the prison guards, who feared\nthe terrible strength of this giant, since neither bars nor chains could\nrestrain it, came to love him at last for his mildness. Amazed at his\ngood temper, they asked more than once what its cause was. He spoke with\nsuch firm certainty of the life waiting after death for him, that they\nlistened with surprise, seeing for the first time that happiness might\npenetrate a dungeon which sunlight could not reach. And when he urged\nthem to believe in the \"Lamb,\" it occurred to more than one of those\npeople that his own service was the service of a slave, his own life the\nlife of an unfortunate; and he fell to thinking over his evil fate, the\nonly end to which was death.\n\nBut death brought new fear, and promised nothing beyond; while that\ngiant and that maiden, who was like a flower cast on the straw of the\nprison, went toward it with delight, as toward the gates of happiness.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXIV\n\n\nONE evening Scevinus, a Senator, visited Petronius and began a long\nconversation, touching the grievous times in which they were living,\nand also touching Cæsar. He spoke so openly that Petronius, though his\nfriend, began to be cautious. Scevinus complained that the world was\nliving madly and unjustly, that all must end in some catastrophe more\ndreadful still than the burning of Rome. He said that even Augustians\nwere dissatisfied; that Fenius Rufus, second prefect of the pretorians,\nendured with the greatest effort the vile orders of Tigellinus; and that\nall Seneca's relatives were driven to extremes by Cæsar's conduct as\nwell toward his old master as toward Lucan. Finally, he began to hint\nof the dissatisfaction of the people, and even of the pretorians, the\ngreater part of whom had been won by Fenius Rufus.\n\n\"Why dost thou say this?\" inquired Petronius.\n\n\"Out of care for Cæsar,\" said Scevinus. \"I have a distant relative among\nthe pretorians, also Scevinus; through him I know what takes place in\nthe camp. Disaffection is growing there also; Caligula, knowest thou,\nwas mad too, and see what happened. Cassius Chærea appeared. That was a\ndreadful deed, and surely there is no one among us to praise it; still\nChærea freed the world of a monster.\"\n\n\"Is thy meaning as follows: 'I do not praise Chærea, but he was a\nperfect man, and would that the gods had given us as many such as\npossible'?\" inquired Petronius.\n\nBut Scevinus changed the conversation, and began all at once to praise\nPiso, exalting his family, his nobility of mind, his attachment to his\nwife, and, finally, his intellect, his calmness, and his wonderful gift\nof winning people.\n\n\"Cæsar is childless,\" said he, \"and all see his successor in Piso.\nDoubtless, too, every man would help him with whole soul to gain power.\nFenius Rufus loves him; the relatives of Annæus are devoted to him\naltogether. Plautius Lateranus and Tullius Senecio would spring into\nfire for him; as would Natalis, and Subrius Flavius, and Sulpicius\nAsper, and Afranius Quinetianus, and even Vestinius.\"\n\n\"From this last man not much will result to Piso,\" replied Petronius.\n\"Vestinius is afraid of his own shadow.\"\n\n\"Vestinius fears dreams and spirits,\" answered Scevinus, \"but he is a\npractical man, whom people wish wisely to make consul. That in his soul\nhe is opposed to persecuting Christians, thou shouldst not take ill of\nhim, for it concerns thee too that this madness should cease.\"\n\n\"Not me, but Vinicius,\" answered Petronius. \"Out of concern for\nVinicius, I should like to save a certain maiden; but I cannot, for I\nhave fallen out of favor with Ahenobarbus.\"\n\n\"How is that? Dost thou not notice that Cæsar is approaching thee\nagain, and beginning to talk with thee? And I will tell thee why. He is\npreparing again for Achæa, where he is to sing songs in Greek of his\nown composition. He is burning for that journey; but also he trembles at\nthought of the cynical genius of the Greeks. He imagines that either\nthe greatest triumph may meet him or the greatest failure. He needs good\ncounsel, and he knows that no one can give it better than thou. This is\nwhy thou art returning to favor.\"\n\n\"Lucan might take my place.\"\n\n\"Bronzebeard hates Lucan, and in his soul has written down death for the\npoet. He is merely seeking a pretext, for he seeks pretexts always.\"\n\n\"By Castor!\" said Petronius, \"that may be. But I might have still\nanother way for a quick return to favor.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"To repeat to Bronzebeard what thou hast told me just now.\"\n\n\"I have said nothing!\" cried Scevinus, with alarm.\n\nPetronius placed his hand upon the Senator's shoulder. \"Thou hast called\nCæsar a madman, thou hast foreseen the heirship of Piso, and hast said,\n'Lucan understands that there is need to hasten.' What wouldst thou\nhasten, carissime?\"\n\nScevinus grew pale, and for a moment each looked into the eyes of the\nother.\n\n\"Thou wilt not repeat!\"\n\n\"By the hips of Kypris, I will not! How well thou knowest me! No; I will\nnot repeat. I have heard nothing, and, moreover, I wish to hear nothing.\nDost understand? Life is too short to make any undertaking worth the\nwhile. I beg thee only to visit Tigellinus to-day, and talk with him as\nlong as thou hast with me of whatever may please thee.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"So that should Tigellinus ever say to me, 'Scevinus was with thee,' I\nmight answer, 'He was with thee, too, that very day.'\"\n\nScevinus, when he heard this, broke the ivory cane which he had in\nhis hand, and said,--\"May the evil fall on this stick! I shall be with\nTigellinus to-day, and later at Nerva's feast. Thou, too, wilt be there?\nIn every case till we meet in the amphitheatre, where the last of the\nChristians will appear the day after tomorrow. Till we meet!\"\n\n\"After to-morrow!\" repeated Petronius, when alone. \"There is no time to\nlose. Ahenobarbus will need me really in Achæa; hence he may count with\nme.\"\n\nAnd he determined to try the last means.\n\nIn fact, at Nerva's feast Cæsar himself asked that Petronius recline\nopposite, for he wished to speak with the arbiter about Achæa and the\ncities in which he might appear with hopes of the greatest success. He\ncared most for the Athenians, whom he feared. Other Augustians listened\nto this conversation with attention, so as to seize crumbs of the\narbiter's opinions, and give them out later on as their own.\n\n\"It seems to me that I have not lived up to this time,\" said Nero, \"and\nthat my birth will come only in Greece.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt be born to new glory and immortality,\" answered Petronius.\n\n\"I trust that this is true, and that Apollo will not seem jealous. If I\nreturn in triumph, I will offer him such a hecatomb as no god has had so\nfar.\"\n\nScevinus fell to repeating the lines of Horace:--\n\n\"Sic te diva potens Cypri, Sic fratres Helenæ, lucida sidera,\nVentorumque regat Pater-\"\n\n\"The vessel is ready at Naples,\" said Cæsar. \"I should like to go even\ntomorrow.\"\n\nAt this Petronius rose, and, looking straight into Nero's eyes, said,\n\n\"Permit me, O divinity, to celebrate a wedding-feast, to which I shall\ninvite thee before others.\"\n\n\"A wedding-feast! What wedding-feast?\" inquired Nero.\n\n\"That of Vinicius with thy hostage the daughter of the Lygian king. She\nis in prison at present, it is true; but as a hostage she is not subject\nto imprisonment, and, secondly, thou thyself hast permitted Vinicius to\nmarry her; and as thy sentences, like those of Zeus, are unchangeable,\nthou wilt give command to free her from prison, and I will give her to\nthy favorite.\"\n\nThe cool blood and calm self-possession with which Petronius spoke\ndisturbed Nero, who was disturbed whenever any one spoke in that fashion\nto him.\n\n\"I know,\" said he, dropping his eyes. \"I have thought of her and of that\ngiant who killed Croton.\"\n\n\"In that case both are saved,\" answered Petronius, calmly.\n\nBut Tigellinus came to the aid of his master: \"She is in prison by the\nwill of Cæsar; thou thyself hast said, O Petronius, that his sentences\nare unchangeable.\"\n\nAll present, knowing the history of Vinicius and Lygia, understood\nperfectly what the question was; hence they were silent, curious as to\nthe end of the conversation.\n\n\"She is in prison against the will of Cæsar and through thy error,\nthrough thy ignorance of the law of nations,\" said Petronius, with\nemphasis. \"Thou art a naive man, Tigellinus; but even thou wilt not\nassert that she burnt Rome, and if thou wert to do so, Cæsar would not\nbelieve thee.\"\n\nBut Nero had recovered and begun to half close his near-sighted eyes\nwith an expression of indescribable malice.\n\n\"Petronius is right,\" said he, after a while.\n\nTigellinus looked at him with amazement.\n\n\"Petronius is right,\" repeated Nero; \"to-morrow the gates of the prison\nwill be open to her, and of the marriage feast we will speak the day\nafter at the amphitheatre.\"\n\n\"I have lost again,\" thought Petronius.\n\nWhen he had returned home, he was so certain that the end of Lygia's\nlife had come that he sent a trusty freedman to the amphitheatre to\nbargain with the chief of the spoliarium for the delivery of her body,\nsince he wished to give it to Vinicius.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXV\n\n\nEvening exhibitions, rare up to that period and given only\nexceptionally, became common in Nero's time, both in the Circus and\namphitheatre. The Augustians liked them, frequently because they were\nfollowed by feasts and drinking-bouts which lasted till daylight. Though\nthe people were sated already with blood-spilling, still, when the news\nwent forth that the end of the games was approaching, and that the\nlast of the Christians were to die at an evening spectacle, a countless\naudience assembled in the amphitheatre. The Augustians came to a man,\nfor they understood that it would not be a common spectacle; they knew\nthat Cæsar had determined to make for himself a tragedy out of the\nsuffering of Vinicius. Tigellinus had kept secret the kind of punishment\nintended for the betrothed of the young tribune; but that merely roused\ngeneral curiosity. Those who had seen Lygia at the house of Plautius\ntold wonders of her beauty. Others were occupied above all with the\nquestion, would they see her really on the arena that day; for many\nof those who had heard the answer given Petronius and Nerva by Cæsar\nexplained it in two ways: some supposed simply that Nero would give or\nperhaps had given the maiden to Vinicius; they remembered that she was\na hostage, hence free to worship whatever divinities she liked, and that\nthe law of nations did not permit her punishment.\n\nUncertainty, waiting, and curiosity had mastered all spectators.\nCæsar arrived earlier than usual; and immediately at his coming people\nwhispered that something uncommon would happen, for besides Tigellinus\nand Vatinius, Cæsar had with him Cassius, a centurion of enormous size\nand gigantic strength, whom he summoned only when he wished to have a\ndefender at his side,--for example, when he desired night expeditions\nto the Subura, where he arranged the amusement called \"sagatio,\" which\nconsisted in tossing on a soldier's mantle maidens met on the way.\nIt was noted also that certain precautions had been taken in the\namphitheatre itself. The pretorian guards were increased; command over\nthem was held, not by a centurion, but by the tribune Subrius Flavius,\nknown hitherto for blind attachment to Nero. It was understood, then,\nthat Cæsar wished in every case to guard himself against an outburst of\ndespair from Vinicius, and curiosity rose all the more.\n\nEvery eye was turned with strained gaze to the place where the\nunfortunate lover was sitting. He was exceedingly pale, and his forehead\nwas covered with drops of sweat; he was in as much doubt as were other\nspectators, but alarmed to the lowest depth of his soul. Petronius knew\nnot what would happen; he was silent, except that, while turning from\nNerva, he asked Vinicius whether he was ready for everything, and next,\nwhether he would remain at the spectacle. To both questions Vinicius\nanswered \"Yes,\" but a shudder passed through his whole body; he divined\nthat Petronius did not ask without reason. For some time he had lived\nwith only half his life,--he had sunk in death, and reconciled himself\nto Lygia's death, since for both it was to be liberation and marriage;\nbut he learned now that it was one thing to think of the last moment\nwhen it was distant as of a quiet dropping asleep, and another to look\nat the torment of a person dearer to one than life. All sufferings\nendured formerly rose in him anew. Despair, which had been set at rest,\nbegan again to cry in his soul; the former desire to save Lygia at any\nprice seized him anew. Beginning with the morning, he had tried to go to\nthe cunicula to be sure that she was there; but the pretorians watched\nevery entrance, and orders were so strict that the soldiers, even those\nwhom he knew, would not be softened by prayers or gold. It seemed to\nthe tribune that uncertainty would kill him before he should see the\nspectacle. Somewhere at the bottom of his heart the hope was still\nthrobbing, that perhaps Lygia was not in the amphitheatre, that his\nfears were groundless. At times he seized on this hope with all his\nstrength. He said in his soul that Christ might take her to Himself out\nof the prison, but could not permit her torture in the Circus. Formerly\nhe was resigned to the divine will in everything; now, when repulsed\nfrom the doors of the cunicula, he returned to his place in the\namphitheatre, and when he learned, from the curious glances turned on\nhim, that the most dreadful suppositions might be true, he began to\nimplore in his soul with passionateness almost approaching a threat.\n\"Thou canst!\" repeated he, clenching his fists convulsively, \"Thou\ncanst!\" Hitherto he had not supposed that that moment when present would\nbe so terrible. Now, without clear consciousness of what was happening\nin his mind, he had the feeling that if he should see Lygia tortured,\nhis love for God would be turned to hatred, and his faith to despair.\nBut he was amazed at the feeling, for he feared to offend Christ, whom\nhe was imploring for mercy and miracles. He implored no longer for her\nlife; he wished merely that she should die before they brought her to\nthe arena, and from the abyss of his pain he repeated in spirt: \"Do not\nrefuse even this, and I will love Thee still more than hitherto.\" And\nthen his thoughts raged as a sea torn by a whirlwind. A desire for blood\nand vengeance was roused in him. He was seized by a mad wish to rush at\nNero and stifle him there in presence of all the spectators; but he\nfelt that desire to be a new offence against Christ, and a breach of\nHis command. To his head flew at times flashes of hope that everything\nbefore which his soul was trembling would be turned aside by an almighty\nand merciful hand; but they were quenched at once, as if in measureless\nsorrow that He who could destroy that Circus with one word and save\nLygia had abandoned her, though she trusted in Him and loved Him with\nall the strength of her pure heart. And he thought, moreover, that\nshe was lying there in that dark place, weak, defenceless, deserted,\nabandoned to the whim or disfavor of brutal guards, drawing her last\nbreath, perhaps, while he had to wait, helpless, in that dreadful\namphitheatre, without knowing what torture was prepared for her, or what\nhe would witness in a moment. Finally, as a man falling over a precipice\ngrasps at everything which grows on the edge of it, so did he grasp with\nboth hands at the thought that faith of itself could save her. That one\nmethod remained! Peter had said that faith could move the earth to its\nfoundations.\n\nHence he rallied; he crushed doubt in himself, he compressed his whole\nbeing into the sentence, \"I believe,\" and he looked for a miracle.\n\nBut as an overdrawn cord may break, so exertion broke him. The pallor of\ndeath covered his face, and his body relaxed. He thought then that his\nprayer had been heard, for he was dying. It seemed to him that Lygia\nmust surely die too, and that Christ would take them to Himself in that\nway. The arena, the white togas, the countless spectators, the light of\nthousands of lamps and torches, all vanished from his vision.\n\nBut his weakness did not last long. After a while he roused himself, or\nrather the stamping of the impatient multitude roused him.\n\n\"Thou art ill,\" said Petronius; \"give command to bear thee home.\"\n\nAnd without regard to what Cæsar would say, he rose to support Vinicius\nand go out with him. His heart was filled with pity, and, moreover, he\nwas irritated beyond endurance because Cæsar was looking through the\nemerald at Vinicius, studying his pain with satisfaction, to describe\nit afterwards, perhaps, in pathetic strophes, and win the applause of\nhearers.\n\nVinicius shook his head. He might die in that amphitheatre, but he could\nnot go out of it. Moreover the spectacle might begin any moment.\n\nIn fact, at that very instant almost, the prefect of the city waved a\nred handkerchief, the hinges opposite Cæsar's podium creaked, and out of\nthe dark gully came Ursus into the brightly lighted arena.\n\nThe giant blinked, dazed evidently by the glitter of the arena; then he\npushed into the centre, gazing around as if to see what he had to meet.\nIt was known to all the Augustians and to most of the spectators that\nhe was the man who had stifled Croton; hence at sight of him a murmur\npassed along every bench. In Rome there was no lack of gladiators larger\nby far than the common measure of man, but Roman eyes had never seen the\nlike of Ursus. Cassius, standing in Cæsar's podium, seemed puny compared\nwith that Lygian. Senators, vestals, Cæsar, the Augustians, and the\npeople gazed with the delight of experts at his mighty limbs as large as\ntree-trunks, at his breast as large as two shields joined together,\nand his arms of a Hercules. The murmur rose every instant. For those\nmultitudes there could be no higher pleasure than to look at those\nmuscles in play in the exertion of a struggle. The murmur rose to\nshouts, and eager questions were put: \"Where do the people live who\ncan produce such a giant?\" He stood there, in the middle of the\namphitheatre, naked, more like a stone colossus than a man, with a\ncollected expression, and at the same time the sad look of a barbarian;\nand while surveying the empty arena, he gazed wonderingly with his blue\nchildlike eyes, now at the spectators, now at Cæsar, now at the grating\nof the cunicula, whence, as he thought, his executioners would come.\n\nAt the moment when he stepped into the arena his simple heart was\nbeating for the last time with the hope that perhaps a cross was waiting\nfor him; but when he saw neither the cross nor the hole in which it\nmight be put, he thought that he was unworthy of such favor,--that he\nwould find death in another way, and surely from wild beasts. He was\nunarmed, and had determined to die as became a confessor of the \"Lamb,\"\npeacefully and patiently. Meanwhile he wished to pray once more to the\nSaviour; so he knelt on the arena, joined his hands, and raised his\neyes toward the stars which were glittering in the lofty opening of the\namphitheatre.\n\nThat act displeased the crowds. They had had enough of those Christians\nwho died like sheep. They understood that if the giant would not defend\nhimself the spectacle would be a failure. Here and there hisses were\nheard. Some began to cry for scourgers, whose office it was to lash\ncombatants unwilling to fight. But soon all had grown silent, for no one\nknew what was waiting for the giant, nor whether he would not be ready\nto struggle when he met death eye to eye.\n\nIn fact, they had not long to wait. Suddenly the shrill sound of brazen\ntrumpets was heard, and at that signal a grating opposite Cæsar's podium\nwas opened, and into the arena rushed, amid shouts of beast-keepers, an\nenormous German aurochs, bearing on his head the naked body of a woman.\n\n\"Lygia! Lygia!\" cried Vinicius.\n\nThen he seized his hair near the temples, squirmed like a man who feels\na sharp dart in his body, and began to repeat in hoarse accents,--\n\n\"I believe! I believe! O Christ, a miracle!\"\n\nAnd he did not even feel that Petronius covered his head that moment\nwith the toga. It seemed to him that death or pain had closed his eyes.\nHe did not look, he did not see. The feeling of some awful emptiness\npossessed him. In his head there remained not a thought; his lips merely\nrepeated, as if in madness,--\n\n\"I believe! I believe! I believe!\"\n\nThis time the amphitheatre was silent. The Augustians rose in their\nplaces, as one man, for in the arena something uncommon had happened.\nThat Lygian, obedient and ready to die, when he saw his queen on the\nhorns of the wild beast, sprang up, as if touched by living fire, and\nbending forward he ran at the raging animal.\n\nFrom all breasts a sudden cry of amazement was heard, after which came\ndeep silence.\n\nThe Lygian fell on the raging bull in a twinkle, and seized him by the\nhorns.\n\n\"Look!\" cried Petronius, snatching the toga from the head of Vinicius.\nThe latter rose and bent back his head; his face was as pale as linen,\nand he looked into the arena with a glassy, vacant stare.\n\nAll breasts ceased to breathe. In the amphitheatre a fly might be heard\non the wing. People could not believe their own eyes. Since Rome was\nRome, no one had seen such a spectacle.\n\nThe Lygian held the wild beast by the horns. The man's feet sank in the\nsand to his ankles, his back was bent like a drawn bow, his head was\nhidden between his shoulders, on his arms the muscles came out so that\nthe skin almost burst from their pressure; but he had stopped the bull\nin his tracks. And the man and the beast remained so still that the\nspectators thought themselves looking at a picture showing a deed of\nHercules or Theseus, or a group hewn from stone. But in that apparent\nrepose there was a tremendous exertion of two struggling forces. The\nbull sank his feet as well as did the man in the sand, and his dark,\nshaggy body was curved so that it seemed a gigantic ball. Which of the\ntwo would fail first, which would fall first,--that was the question for\nthose spectators enamoured of such struggles; a question which at that\nmoment meant more for them than their own fate, than all Rome and its\nlordship over the world. That Lygian was in their eyes then a demigod\nworthy of honor and statues. Cæsar himself stood up as well as others.\nHe and Tigellinus, hearing of the man's strength, had arranged this\nspectacle purposely, and said to each other with a jeer, \"Let that\nslayer of Croton kill the bull which we choose for him\"; so they looked\nnow with amazement at that picture, as if not believing that it could be\nreal.\n\nIn the amphitheatre were men who had raised their arms and remained in\nthat posture. Sweat covered the faces of others, as if they themselves\nwere struggling with the beast. In the Circus nothing was heard save\nthe sound of flame in the lamps, and the crackle of bits of coal as\nthey dropped from the torches. Their voices died on the lips of the\nspectators, but their hearts were beating in their breasts as if to\nsplit them. It seemed to all that the struggle was lasting for ages.\nBut the man and the beast continued on in their monstrous exertion; one\nmight have said that they were planted in the earth.\n\nMeanwhile a dull roar resembling a groan was heard from the arena, after\nwhich a brief shout was wrested from every breast, and again there was\nsilence. People thought themselves dreaming till the enormous head of\nthe bull began to turn in the iron hands of the barbarian. The face,\nneck, and arms of the Lygian grew purple; his back bent still more. It\nwas clear that he was rallying the remnant of his superhuman strength,\nbut that he could not last long.\n\nDuller and duller, hoarser and hoarser, more and more painful grew\nthe groan of the bull as it mingled with the whistling breath from the\nbreast of the giant. The head of the beast turned more and more, and\nfrom his jaws crept forth a long, foaming tongue.\n\nA moment more, and to the ears of spectators sitting nearer came as it\nwere the crack of breaking bones; then the beast rolled on the earth\nwith his neck twisted in death.\n\nThe giant removed in a twinkle the ropes from the horns of the bull and,\nraising the maiden, began to breathe hurriedly. His face became pale,\nhis hair stuck together from sweat, his shoulders and arms seemed\nflooded with water. For a moment he stood as if only half conscious;\nthen he raised his eyes and looked at the spectators.\n\nThe amphitheatre had gone wild.\n\nThe walls of the building were trembling from the roar of tens of\nthousands of people. Since the beginning of spectacles there was no\nmemory of such excitement. Those who were sitting on the highest rows\ncame down, crowding in the passages between benches to look more nearly\nat the strong man. Everywhere were heard cries for mercy, passionate and\npersistent, which soon turned into one unbroken thunder. That giant had\nbecome dear to those people enamoured of physical strength; he was the\nfirst personage in Rome.\n\nHe understood that the multitude were striving to grant him his life\nand restore him his freedom, but clearly his thought was not on himself\nalone. He looked around a while; then approached Cæsar's podium, and,\nholding the body of the maiden on his outstretched arms, raised his eyes\nwith entreaty, as if to say,--\n\n\"Have mercy on her! Save the maiden. I did that for her sake!\"\n\nThe spectators understood perfectly what he wanted. At sight of the\nunconscious maiden, who near the enormous Lygian seemed a child, emotion\nseized the multitude of knights and senators. Her slender form, as white\nas if chiselled from alabaster, her fainting, the dreadful danger from\nwhich the giant had freed her, and finally her beauty and attachment had\nmoved every heart. Some thought the man a father begging mercy for his\nchild. Pity burst forth suddenly, like a flame. They had had blood,\ndeath, and torture in sufficiency. Voices choked with tears began to\nentreat mercy for both.\n\nMeanwhile Ursus, holding the girl in his arms, moved around the arena,\nand with his eyes and with motions begged her life for her. Now Vinicius\nstarted up from his seat, sprang over the barrier which separated the\nfront places from the arena, and, running to Lygia, covered her naked\nbody with his toga.\n\nThen he tore apart the tunic on his breast, laid bare the scars left by\nwounds received in the Armenian war, and stretched out his hands to the\naudience.\n\nAt this the enthusiasm of the multitude passed everything seen in a\ncircus before. The crowd stamped and howled. Voices calling for mercy\ngrew simply terrible. People not only took the part of the athlete, but\nrose in defense of the soldier, the maiden, their love. Thousands of\nspectators turned to Cæsar with flashes of anger in their eyes and with\nclinched fists.\n\nBut Cæsar halted and hesitated. Against Vinicius he had no hatred\nindeed, and the death of Lygia did not concern him; but he preferred to\nsee the body of the maiden rent by the horns of the bull or torn by the\nclaws of beasts. His cruelty, his deformed imagination, and deformed\ndesires found a kind of delight in such spectacles. And now the people\nwanted to rob him. Hence anger appeared on his bloated face. Self-love\nalso would not let him yield to the wish of the multitude, and still he\ndid not dare to oppose it, through his inborn cowardice.\n\nSo he gazed around to see if among the Augustians at least, he could\nnot find fingers turned down in sign of death. But Petronius held up\nhis hand, and looked into Nero's face almost challengingly. Vestinius,\nsuperstitious but inclined to enthusiasm, a man who feared ghosts\nbut not the living, gave a sign for mercy also. So did Scevinus, the\nSenator; so did Nerva, so did Tullius Senecio, so did the famous leader\nOstorius Scapula, and Antistius, and Piso, and Vetus, and Crispinus, and\nMinucius Thermus, and Pontius Telesinus, and the most important of all,\none honored by the people, Thrasea.\n\nIn view of this, Cæsar took the emerald from his eye with an expression\nof contempt and offence; when Tigellinus, whose desire was to spite\nPetronius, turned to him and said,--\n\n\"Yield not, divinity; we have the pretorians.\"\n\nThen Nero turned to the place where command over the pretorians was held\nby the stern Subrius Flavius, hitherto devoted with whole soul to him,\nand saw something unusual. The face of the old tribune was stern, but\ncovered with tears, and he was holding his hand up in sign of mercy.\n\nNow rage began to possess the multitude. Dust rose from beneath the\nstamping feet, and filled the amphitheatre. In the midst of shouts were\nheard cries: \"Ahenobarbus! matricide! incendiary!\"\n\nNero was alarmed. Romans were absolute lords in the Circus. Former\nCæsars, and especially Caligula, had permitted themselves sometimes\nto act against the will of the people; this, however, called forth\ndisturbance always, going sometimes to bloodshed. But Nero was in a\ndifferent position. First, as a comedian and a singer he needed the\npeople's favor; second, he wanted it on his side against the Senate and\nthe patricians, and especially after the burning of Rome he strove by\nall means to win it, and turn their anger against the Christians. He\nunderstood, besides, that to oppose longer was simply dangerous. A\ndisturbance begun in the Circus might seize the whole city, and have\nresults incalculable.\n\nHe looked once more at Subrius Flavius, at Scevinus the centurion, a\nrelative of the senator, at the soldiers; and seeing everywhere frowning\nbrows, excited faces, and eyes fixed on him, he gave the sign for mercy.\n\nThen a thunder of applause was heard from the highest seats to the\nlowest. The people were sure of the lives of the condemned, for from\nthat moment they went under their protection, and even Cæsar would not\nhave dared to pursue them any longer with his vengeance.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXVI\n\n\nFOUR Bithynians carried Lygia carefully to the house of Petronius.\nVinicius and Ursus walked at her side, hurrying so as to give her into\nthe hands of the Greek physician as quickly as possible. They walked in\nsilence, for after the events of the day they had not power to speak.\nVinicius so far was as if half conscious. He kept repeating to himself\nthat Lygia was saved; that she was threatened no longer by imprisonment,\nor death in the Circus; that their misfortunes had ended once and\nforever; that he would take her home and not separate again from her.\nThis appeared to him the beginning of some other life rather than\nreality. From moment to moment he bent over the open litter to look\non the beloved face, which in the moonlight seemed sleeping, and he\nrepeated mentally, \"This is she! Christ has saved her!\" He remembered\nalso that while he and Ursus were carrying her from the spoliarium an\nunknown physician had assured him that she was living and would recover.\nAt this thought delight so filled his breast that at moments he grew\nweak, and being unable to walk with his own strength leaned on the arm\nof Ursus. Ursus meanwhile was looking into the sky filled with stars,\nand was praying.\n\nThey advanced hurriedly along streets where newly erected white\nbuildings shone brightly in the moonlight. The city was empty, save\nhere and there where crowds of people crowned with ivy, sang and danced\nbefore porticos to the sound of flutes, thus taking advantage of the\nwonderful night and the festive season, unbroken from the beginning of\nthe games. Only when they were near the house did Ursus stop praying,\nand say in a low voice, as if he feared to waken Lygia,--\n\n\"Lord, it was the Saviour who rescued her from death. When I saw her\non the horns of the aurochs, I heard a voice in my soul saying, 'Defend\nher!' and that was the voice of the Lamb. The prison took strength from\nme, but He gave it back in that moment, and inspired that cruel people\nto take her part. Let His will be done!\"\n\nAnd Vinicius answered,--\n\n\"Magnified be His name!\"\n\nHe had not power to continue, for all at once he felt that a mighty\nweeping was swelling his breast. He was seized by an overpowering wish\nto throw himself on the earth and thank the Saviour for His miracles and\nHis mercy.\n\nMeanwhile they had come to the house; the servants, informed by a slave\ndespatched in advance, crowded out to meet them. Paul of Tarsus had sent\nback from Antium the greater part of those people. The misfortune of\nVinicius was known to them perfectly; therefore their delight at seeing\nthose victims which had been snatched from the malice of Nero was\nimmense, and increased still more when the physician Theocles declared\nthat Lygia had not suffered serious injury, and that when the weakness\ncaused by prison fever had passed, she would regain health.\n\nConsciousness returned to her that night. Waking in the splendid chamber\nlighted by Corinthian lamps, amidst the odor of verbena and nard,\nshe knew not where she was, or what was taking place with her. She\nremembered the moment in which she had been lashed to the horns of the\nchained bull; and now, seeing above her the face of Vinicius, lighted by\nthe mild rays of the lamp, she supposed herself no longer on earth. The\nthoughts were confused in her weakened head; it seemed to her natural to\nbe detained somewhere on the way to heaven, because of her tortures and\nweakness. Feeling no pain, however, she smiled at Vinicius, and wanted\nto ask where they were; but from her lips came merely a low whisper in\nwhich he could barely detect his own name.\n\nThen he knelt near her, and, placing his hand on her forehead lightly,\nhe said,--\n\n\"Christ saved thee, and returned thee to me!\"\n\nHer lips moved again with a meaningless whisper; her lids closed after\na moment, her breast rose with a light sigh, and she fell into a deep\nsleep, for which the physician had been waiting, and after which she\nwould return to health, he said.\n\nVinicius remained kneeling near her, however, sunk in prayer. His soul\nwas melting with a love so immense that he forgot himself utterly.\nTheocles returned often to the chamber, and the golden-haired Eunice\nappeared behind the raised curtain a number of times; finally cranes,\nreared in the gardens, began to call, heralding the coming day, but\nVinicius was still embracing in his mind the feet of Christ, neither\nseeing nor hearing what was passing around him, with a heart turned into\na thanksgiving, sacrificial flame, sunk in ecstasy, and though alive,\nhalf seized into heaven.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXVII\n\n\nPETRONIUS, after the liberation of Lygia, not wishing to irritate Cæsar,\nwent to the Palatine with other Augustians. He wanted to hear what\nthey were saying, and especially to learn if Tigellinus was devising\nsomething new to destroy Lygia. Both she and Ursus had passed under the\nprotection of the people, it is true, and no one could place a hand on\nthem without raising a riot; still Petronius, knowing the hatred toward\nhim of the all-powerful pretorian prefect, considered that very likely\nTigellinus, while unable to strike him directly, would strive to find\nsome means of revenge against his nephew.\n\nNero was angry and irritated, since the spectacle had ended quite\ndifferently from what he had planned. At first he did not wish even to\nlook at Petronius; but the latter, without losing cool blood, approached\nhim, with all the freedom of the \"arbiter elegantiarum,\" and said,--\n\n\"Dost thou know, divinity, what occurs to me? Write a poem on the maiden\nwho, at command of the lord of the world, was freed from the horns of\nthe wild bull and given to her lover. The Greeks are sensitive, and I am\nsure that the poem will enchant them.\"\n\nThis thought pleased Nero in spite of all his irritation, and it pleased\nhim doubly, first, as a subject for a poem, and second, because in it\nhe could glorify himself as the magnanimous lord of the earth; hence he\nlooked for a time at Petronius, and then said,--\n\n\"Yes! perhaps thou art right. But does it become me to celebrate my own\ngoodness?\"\n\n\"There is no need to give names. In Rome all will know who is meant, and\nfrom Rome reports go through the whole world.\"\n\n\"But art thou sure that this will please the people in Achæa?\"\n\n\"By Poilux, it will!\" said Petronius.\n\nAnd he went away satisfied, for he felt certain that Nero, whose whole\nlife was an arrangement of reality to literary plans, would not spoil\nthe subject, and by this alone he would tie the hands of Tigellinus.\nThis, however, did not change his plan of sending Vinicius out of Rome\nas soon as Lygia's health should permit. So when he saw him next day, he\nsaid,--\n\n\"Take her to Sicily. As things have happened, on Cæsar's part thou art\nthreatened by nothing; but Tigellinus is ready to use even poison,--if\nnot out of hatred to you both, out of hatred to me.\"\n\nVinicius smiled at him, and said: \"She was on the horns of the wild\nbull; still Christ saved her.\"\n\n\"Then honor Him with a hecatomb,\" replied Petronius, with an accent of\nimpatience, \"but do not beg Him to save her a second time. Dost remember\nhow Eolus received Ulysses when he returned to ask a second time for\nfavoring winds? Deities do not like to repeat themselves.\"\n\n\"When her health returns, I will take her to Pomponia Græcina,\" said\nVinicius.\n\n\"And thou wilt do that all the better since Pomponia is ill; Antistius,\na relative of Aulus, told me so. Meanwhile things will happen here\nto make people forget thee, and in these times the forgotten are the\nhappiest. May Fortune be thy sun in winter, and thy shade in summer.\"\n\nThen he left Vinicius to his happiness, but went himself to inquire of\nTheocles touching the life and health of Lygia.\n\nDanger threatened her no longer. Emaciated as she was in the dungeon\nafter prison fever, foul air and discomfort would have killed her; but\nnow she had the most tender care, and not only plenty, but luxury. At\ncommand of Theocles they took her to the gardens of the villa after\ntwo days; in these gardens she remained for hours. Vinicius decked her\nlitter with anemones, and especially with irises, to remind her of the\natrium of the house of Aulus. More than once, hidden in the shade of\nspreading trees, they spoke of past sufferings and fears, each holding\nthe other's hand. Lygia said that Christ had conducted him through\nsuffering purposely to change his soul and raise it to Himself. Vinicius\nfelt that this was true, and that there was in him nothing of the former\npatrician, who knew no law but his own desire. In those memories there\nwas nothing bitter, however. It seemed to both that whole years had gone\nover their heads, and that the dreadful past lay far behind. At the same\ntime such a calmness possessed them as they had never known before. A\nnew life of immense happiness had come and taken them into itself. In\nRome Cæsar might rage and fill the world with terror--they felt above\nthem a guardianship a hundred times mightier than his power, and had\nno further fear of his rage or his malice, just as if for them he had\nceased to be the lord of life or death. Once, about sunset, the roar of\nlions and other beasts reached them from distant vivaria. Formerly those\nsounds filled Vinicius with fear because they were ominous; now he and\nLygia merely looked at each other and raised their eyes to the evening\ntwilight. At times Lygia, still very weak and unable to walk alone, fell\nasleep in the quiet of the garden; he watched over her, and, looking\nat her sleeping face, thought involuntarily that she was not that Lygia\nwhom he had met at the house of Aulus. In fact, imprisonment and disease\nhad to some extent quenched her beauty. When he saw her at the house of\nAulus, and later, when he went to Miriam's house to seize her, she was\nas wonderful as a statue and also as a flower; now her face had become\nalmost transparent, her hands thin, her body reduced by disease,\nher lips pale, and even her eyes seemed less blue than formerly. The\ngolden-haired Eunice who brought her flowers and rich stuffs to cover\nher feet was a divinity of Cyprus in comparison. Petronius tried in vain\nto find the former charms in her, and, shrugging his shoulders, thought\nthat that shadow from Elysian fields was not worth those struggles,\nthose pains, and those tortures which had almost sucked the life out of\nVinicius. But Vinicius, in love now with her spirit, loved it all the\nmore; and when he was watching over her while asleep, it seemed to him\nthat he was watching over the whole world.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXVIII\n\n\nNEWS of the miraculous rescue of Lygia was circulated quickly among\nthose scattered Christians who had escaped destruction. Confessors came\nto look at her to whom Christ's favor had been shown clearly. First came\nNazarius and Miriam, with whom Peter the Apostle was hiding thus\nfar; after them came others. All, as well as Vinicius, Lygia, and the\nChristian slaves of Petronius, listened with attention to the narrative\nof Ursus about the voice which he had heard in his soul, and which\ncommanded him to struggle with the wild bull. All went away consoled,\nhoping that Christ would not let His followers be exterminated on earth\nbefore His coming at the day of judgment. And hope sustained their\nhearts, for persecution had not ceased yet. Whoever was declared a\nChristian by public report was thrown into prison at once by the city\nwatches. It is true that the victims were fewer, for the majority of\nconfessors had been seized and tortured to death. The Christians\nwho remained had either left Rome to wait out the storm in distant\nprovinces, or had hidden most carefully, not daring to assemble\nin common prayer, unless in sand-pits outside the city. They were\npersecuted yet, however, and though the games were at an end, the newly\narrested were reserved for future games or punished specially. Though\nit was believed in Rome no longer that Christians had caused the\nconflagration, they were declared enemies of humanity and the State, and\nthe edict against them remained in former force.\n\nThe Apostle Peter did not venture for a long time to appear in the house\nof Petronius, but at last on a certain evening Nazarius announced his\narrival. Lygia, who was able to walk alone now, and Vinicius ran out to\nmeet him, and fell to embracing his feet. He greeted them with emotion\nall the greater that not many sheep in that flock over which Christ\nhad given him authority, and over the fate of which his great heart was\nweeping, remained to him. So when Vinicius said, \"Lord, because of thee\nthe Redeemer returned her to me,\" he answered: \"He returned her because\nof thy faith, and so that not all the lips which profess His name should\ngrow silent.\" And evidently he was thinking then of those thousands of\nhis children torn by wild beasts, of those crosses with which the arena\nhad been filled, and those fiery pillars in the gardens of the \"Beast\";\nfor he spoke with great sadness. Vinicius and Lygia noticed also that\nhis hair had grown entirely white, that his whole form was bent, and\nthat in his face there was as much sadness and suffering as if he had\npassed through all those pains and torments which the victims of Nero's\nrage and madness had endured. But both understood that since Christ had\ngiven Himself to torture and to death, no one was permitted to avoid\nit. Still their hearts were cut at sight of the Apostle, bent by years,\ntoil, and pain. So Vinicius, who intended to take Lygia soon to Naples,\nwhere they would meet Pomponia and go to Sicily, implored him to leave\nRome in their company.\n\nBut the Apostle placed his hand on the tribune's head and answered,--\n\n\"In my soul I hear these words of the Lord, which He spoke to me on the\nLake of Tiberias: 'When thou wert young, thou didst gird thyself,\nand walk whither thou wouldst; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt\nstretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee\nwhither thou wouldst not.' Therefore it is proper that I follow my\nflock.\"\n\nAnd when they were silent, not knowing the sense of his speech, he\nadded,\n\n\"My toil is nearing its end; I shall find entertainment and rest only in\nthe house of the Lord.\"\n\nThen he turned to them saying: \"Remember me, for I have loved you as\na father loves his children; and whatever ye do in life, do it for the\nglory of God.\"\n\nThus speaking, he raised his aged, trembling hands and blessed them;\nthey nestled up to him, feeling that to be the last blessing, perhaps,\nwhich they should receive from him.\n\nIt was destined them, however, to see him once more. A few days\nlater Petronius brought terrible news from the Palatine. It had been\ndiscovered there that one of Cæsar's freedmen was a Christian; and on\nthis man were found letters of the Apostles Peter and Paul, with letters\nof James, John, and Judas. Peter's presence in Rome was known formerly\nto Tigellinus, but he thought that the Apostle had perished with\nthousands of other confessors. Now it transpired that the two leaders\nof the new faith were alive and in the capital. It was determined,\ntherefore, to seize them at all costs, for it was hoped that with their\ndeath the last root of the hated sect would be plucked out. Petronius\nheard from Vestinius that Cæsar himself had issued an order to put\nPeter and Paul in the Mamertine prison within three days, and that whole\ndetachments of pretorians had been sent to search every house in the\nTrans-Tiber.\n\nWhen he heard this, Vinicius resolved to warn the Apostle. In the\nevening he and Ursus put on Gallic mantles and went to the house of\nMiriam, where Peter was living. The house was at the very edge of the\nTrans-Tiber division of the city, at the foot of the Janiculum. On the\nroad they saw houses surrounded by soldiers, who were guided by certain\nunknown persons. This division of the city was alarmed, and in places\ncrowds of curious people had assembled. Here and there centurions\ninterrogated prisoners touching Simon Peter and Paul of Tarsus.\n\nUrsus and Vinicius were in advance of the soldiers, and went safely to\nMiriam's house, in which they found Peter surrounded by a handful of the\nfaithful. Timothy, Paul's assistant, and Linus were at the side of the\nApostle.\n\nAt news of the approaching danger, Nazarius led all by a hidden passage\nto the garden gate, and then to deserted stone quarries, a few hundred\nyards distant from the Janiculum Gate. Ursus had to carry Linus, whose\nbones, broken by torture, had not grown together yet. But once in the\nquarry, they felt safe; and by the light of a torch ignited by Nazarius\nthey began to consult, in a low voice, how to save the life of the\nApostle who was so dear to them.\n\n\"Lord,\" said Vinicius, \"let Nazarius guide thee at daybreak to the Alban\nHills. There I will find thee, and we will take thee to Antium, where a\nship is ready to take us to Naples and Sicily. Blessed will the day and\nthe hour be in which thou shalt enter my house, and thou wilt bless my\nhearth.\"\n\nThe others heard this with delight, and pressed the Apostle, saying,\n\n\"Hide thyself, sacred leader; remain not in Rome. Preserve the living\ntruth, so that it perish not with us and thee. Hear us, who entreat thee\nas a father.\"\n\n\"Do this in Christ's name!\" cried others, grasping at his robes.\n\n\"My children,\" answered Peter, \"who knows the time when the Lord will\nmark the end of his life?\"\n\nBut he did not say that he would not leave Rome, and he hesitated what\nto do; for uncertainty, and even fear, had been creeping into his soul\nfor some time. His flock was scattered; the work was wrecked; that\nchurch, which before the burning of the city had been flourishing like a\nsplendid tree, was turned into dust by the power of the \"Beast.\" Nothing\nremained save tears, nothing save memories of torture and death. The\nsowing had yielded rich fruit, but Satan had trampled it into the earth.\nLegions of angels had not come to aid the perishing,--and Nero was\nextending in glory over the earth, terrible, mightier than ever, the\nlord of all seas and all lands. More than once had that fisherman of the\nLord stretched his hands heavenward in loneliness and asked: \"Lord, what\nmust I do? How must I act? And how am I, a feeble old man, to fight with\nthis invincible power of Evil, which Thou hart permitted to rule, and\nhave victory?\"\n\nAnd he called out thus in the depth of his immense pain, repeating in\nspirit: \"Those sheep which Thou didst command me to feed are no more,\nThy church is no more; loneliness and mourning are in Thy capital; what\ndost Thou command me to do now? Am I to stay here, or lead forth the\nremnant of the flock to glorify Thy name in secret somewhere beyond the\nsea?\"\n\nAnd he hesitated, He believed that the living truth would not perish,\nthat it must conquer; but at moments he thought that the hour had not\ncome yet, that it would come only when the Lord should descend to the\nearth in the day of judgment in glory and power a hundred times greater\nthan the might of Nero.\n\nFrequently it seemed to him that if he left Rome, the faithful would\nfollow; that he would lead them then far away to the shady groves of\nGalilee, to the quiet surface of the Lake of Tiberias, to shepherds\nas peaceful as doves, or as sheep, who feed there among thyme and\npepperwort. And an increasing desire for peace and rest, an increasing\nyearning for the lake and Galilee, seized the heart of the fisherman;\ntears came more frequently to the old man's eyes.\n\nBut at the moment when he made the choice, sudden alarm and fear came on\nhim. How was he to leave that city, in which so much martyrs' blood had\nsunk into the earth, and where so many lips had given the true testimony\nof the dying? Was he alone to yield? And what would he answer the Lord\non hearing the words, \"These have died for the faith, but thou didst\nflee\"?\n\nNights and days passed for him in anxiety and suffering. Others, who had\nbeen torn by lions, who had been fastened to crosses, who had been burnt\nin the gardens of Cæsar, had fallen asleep in the Lord after moments of\ntorture; but he could not sleep, and he felt greater tortures than\nany of those invented by executioners for victims. Often was the dawn\nwhitening the roofs of houses while he was still crying from the depth\nof his mourning heart: \"Lord, why didst Thou command me to come hither\nand found Thy capital in the den of the 'Beast'?\"\n\nFor thirty-three years after the death of his Master he knew no rest.\nStaff in hand, he had gone through the world and declared the \"good\ntidings.\" His strength had been exhausted in journeys and toil, till\nat last, when in that city, which was the head of the world, he had\nestablished the work of his Master, one bloody breath of wrath had\nburned it, and he saw that there was need to take up the struggle anew.\nAnd what a struggle! On one side Cæsar, the Senate, the people, the\nlegions holding the world with a circle of iron, countless cities,\ncountless lands,--power such as the eye of man had not seen; on the\nother side he, so bent with age and toil that his trembling hand was\nhardly able to carry his staff.\n\nAt times, therefore, he said to himself that it was not for him to\nmeasure with the Cæsar of Rome,--that Christ alone could do that.\n\nAll these thoughts were passing through his care-filled head, when he\nheard the prayers of the last handful of the faithful. They, surrounding\nhim in an ever narrowing circle, repeated with voices of entreaty,--\n\n\"Hide thyself, Rabbi, and lead us away from the power of the 'Beast.'\"\n\nFinally Linus also bowed his tortured head before him.\n\n\"O lord,\" said he, \"the Redeemer commanded thee to feed His sheep,\nbut they are here no longer or to-morrow they will not be here; go,\ntherefore, where thou mayst find them yet. The word of God is living\nstill in Jerusalem, in Antioch, in Ephesus, and in other cities. What\nwilt thou do by remaining in Rome? If thou fall, thou wilt merely swell\nthe triumph of the 'Beast.' The Lord has not designated the limit of\nJohn's life; Paul is a Roman citizen, they cannot condemn him without\ntrial; but if the power of hell rise up against thee, O teacher, those\nwhose hearts are dejected will ask, 'Who is above Nero?' Thou art the\nrock on which the church of God is founded. Let us die, but permit not\nthe victory of Antichrist over the viceregent of God, and return not\nhither till the Lord has crushed him who shed innocent blood.\"\n\n\"Look at our tears!\" repeated all who were present.\n\nTears flowed over Peter's face too. After a while he rose, and,\nstretching his hands over the kneeling figures, said,--\n\n\"May the name of the Lord be magnified, and may His will be done!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXIX\n\n\nAbout dawn of the following day two dark figures were moving along the\nAppian Way toward the Campania.\n\nOne of them was Nazarius; the other the Apostle Peter, who was leaving\nRome and his martyred co-religionists.\n\nThe sky in the east was assuming a light tinge of green, bordered\ngradually and more distinctly on the lower edge with saffron color.\nSilver-leafed trees, the white marble of villas, and the arches of\naqueducts, stretching through the plain toward the city, were emerging\nfrom shade. The greenness of the sky was clearing gradually, and\nbecoming permeated with gold. Then the east began to grow rosy and\nilluminate the Alban Hills, which seemed marvellously beautiful,\nlily-colored, as if formed of rays of light alone.\n\nThe light was reflected in trembling leaves of trees, in the dew-drops.\nThe haze grew thinner, opening wider and wider views on the plain, on\nthe houses dotting it, on the cemeteries, on the towns, and on groups of\ntrees, among which stood white columns of temples.\n\nThe road was empty. The villagers who took vegetables to the city had\nnot succeeded yet, evidently, in harnessing beasts to their vehicles.\nFrom the stone blocks with which the road was paved as far as the\nmountains, there came a low sound from the bark shoes on the feet of the\ntwo travellers.\n\nThen the sun appeared over the line of hills; but at once a wonderful\nvision struck the Apostle's eyes. It seemed to him that the golden\ncircle, instead of rising in the sky, moved down from the heights and\nwas advancing on the road. Peter stopped, and asked,--\n\n\"Seest thou that brightness approaching us?\"\n\n\"I see nothing,\" replied Nazarius.\n\nBut Peter shaded his eyes with his hand, and said after a while,\n\n\"Some figure is coming in the gleam of the sun.\" But not the slightest\nsound of steps reached their ears. It was perfectly still all around.\nNazarius saw only that the trees were quivering in the distance, as if\nsome one were shaking them, and the light was spreading more broadly\nover the plain. He looked with wonder at the Apostle.\n\n\"Rabbi! what ails thee?\" cried he, with alarm.\n\nThe pilgrim's staff fell from Peter's hands to the earth; his eyes\nwere looking forward, motionless; his mouth was open; on his face were\ndepicted astonishment, delight, rapture.\n\nThen he threw himself on his knees, his arms stretched forward; and this\ncry left his lips,--\n\n\"O Christ! O Christ!\"\n\nHe fell with his face to the earth, as if kissing some one's feet.\n\nThe silence continued long; then were heard the words of the aged man,\nbroken by sobs,--\n\n\"Quo vadis, Domine?\"\n\nNazarius did not hear the answer; but to Peter's ears came a sad and\nsweet voice, which said,--\n\n\"If thou desert my people, I am going to Rome to be crucified a second\ntime.\"\n\nThe Apostle lay on the ground, his face in the dust, without motion or\nspeech. It seemed to Nazarius that he had fainted or was dead; but he\nrose at last, seized the staff with trembling hands, and turned without\na word toward the seven hills of the city.\n\nThe boy, seeing this, repeated as an echo,--\n\n\"Quo vadis, Domine?\"\n\n\"To Rome,\" said the Apostle, in a low voice.\n\nAnd he returned.\n\n\nPaul, John, Linus, and all the faithful received him with amazement; and\nthe alarm was the greater, since at daybreak, just after his departure,\npretorians had surrounded Miriam's house and searched it for the\nApostle. But to every question he answered only with delight and\npeace,--\n\n\"I have seen the Lord!\"\n\nAnd that same evening he went to the Ostian cemetery to teach and\nbaptize those who wished to bathe in the water of life.\n\nAnd thenceforward he went there daily, and after him went increasing\nnumbers. It seemed that out of every tear of a martyr new confessors\nwere born, and that every groan on the arena found an echo in thousands\nof breasts. Cæsar was swimming in blood, Rome and the whole pagan world\nwas mad. But those who had had enough of transgression and madness,\nthose who were trampled upon, those whose lives were misery and\noppression, all the weighed down, all the sad, all the unfortunate, came\nto hear the wonderful tidings of God, who out of love for men had given\nHimself to be crucified and redeem their sins.\n\nWhen they found a God whom they could love, they had found that which\nthe society of the time could not give any one,--happiness and love.\n\nAnd Peter understood that neither Cæsar nor all his legions could\novercome the living truth,--that they could not overwhelm it with tears\nor blood, and that now its victory was beginning. He understood with\nequal force why the Lord had turned him back on the road. That city of\npride, crime, wickedness, and power was beginning to be His city, and\nthe double capital, from which would flow out upon the world government\nof souls and bodies.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXX\n\n\nAT last the hour was accomplished for both Apostles. But, as if to\ncomplete his service, it was given to the fisherman of the Lord to win\ntwo souls even in confinement. The soldiers, Processus and Martinianus,\nwho guarded him in the Mamertine prison, received baptism. Then came the\nhour of torture. Nero was not in Rome at that time. Sentence was passed\nby Helius and Polythetes, two freedmen to whom Cæsar had confided the\ngovernment of Rome during his absence.\n\nOn the aged Apostle had been inflicted the stripes prescribed by law;\nand next day he was led forth beyond the walls of the city, toward\nthe Vatican Hill, where he was to suffer the punishment of the cross\nassigned to him. Soldiers were astonished by the crowd which had\ngathered before the prison, for in their minds the death of a common\nman, and besides a foreigner, should not rouse such interest; they did\nnot understand that that retinue was composed not of sightseers,\nbut confessors, anxious to escort the great Apostle to the place of\nexecution. In the afternoon the gates of the prison were thrown open at\nlast, and Peter appeared in the midst of a detachment of pretorians. The\nsun had inclined somewhat toward Ostia already; the day was clear and\ncalm. Because of his advanced age, Peter was not required to carry the\ncross; it was supposed that he could not carry it; they had not put\nthe fork on his neck, either, so as not to retard his pace. He walked\nwithout hindrance, and the faithful could see him perfectly.\n\nAt moments when his white head showed itself among the iron helmets\nof the soldiers, weeping was heard in the crowd; but it was restrained\nimmediately, for the face of the old man had in it so much calmness, and\nwas so bright with joy, that all understood him to be not a victim going\nto destruction, but a victor celebrating his triumph.\n\nAnd thus it was really. The fisherman, usually humble and stooping,\nwalked now erect, taller than the soldiers, full of dignity. Never had\nmen seen such majesty in his bearing. It might have seemed that he was\na monarch attended by people and military. From every side voices were\nraised,--\n\n\"There is Peter going to the Lord!\"\n\nAll forgot, as it were, that torture and death were waiting for him. He\nwalked with solemn attention, but with calmness, feeling that since the\ndeath on Golgotha nothing equally important had happened, and that as\nthe first death had redeemed the whole world, this was to redeem the\ncity.\n\nAlong the road people halted from wonder at sight of that old man; but\nbelievers, laying hands on their shoulders, said with calm voices,--\n\n\"See how a just man goes to death,--one who knew Christ and proclaimed\nlove to the world.\"\n\nThese became thoughtful, and walked away, saying to themselves, \"He\ncannot, indeed, be unjust!\"\n\nAlong the road noise was hushed, and the cries of the street. The\nretinue moved on before houses newly reared, before white columns of\ntemples, over whose summits hung the deep sky, calm and blue. They went\nin quiet; only at times the weapons of the soldiers clattered, or the\nmurmur of prayer rose. Peter heard the last, and his face grew bright\nwith increasing joy, for his glance could hardly take in those thousands\nof confessors. He felt that he had done his work, and he knew now that\nthat truth which he had been declaring all his life would overwhelm\neverything, like a sea, and that nothing would have power to restrain\nit. And thus thinking, he raised his eyes, and said: \"O Lord, Thou didst\ncommand me to conquer this world-ruling city; hence I have conquered it.\nThou hast commanded me to found here Thy capital; hence I have founded\nit. This is Thy city now, O Lord, and I go to Thee, for I have toiled\ngreatly.\"\n\nAs he passed before temples, he said to them, \"Ye will be temples of\nChrist.\" Looking at throngs of people moving before his eyes, he said to\nthem, \"Your children will be servants of Christ\"; and he advanced with\nthe feeling that he had conquered, conscious of his service, conscious\nof his strength, solaced,--great. The soldiers conducted him over the\nPons Triumphalis, as if giving involuntary testimony to his triumph, and\nthey led him farther toward the Naumachia and the Circus. The faithful\nfrom beyond the Tiber joined the procession; and such a throng of people\nwas formed that the centurion commanding the pretonians understood at\nlast that he was leading a high-priest surrounded by believers, and\ngrew alarmed because of the small number of soldiers. But no cry of\nindignation or rage was given out in the throng. Men's faces were\npenetrated with the greatness of the moment, solemn and full of\nexpectation. Some believers, remembering that when the Lord died the\nearth opened from fright and the dead rose from their graves, thought\nthat now some evident signs would appear, after which the death of the\nApostle would not be forgotten for ages. Others said to themselves,\n\"Perhaps the Lord will select the hour of Peter's death to come from\nheaven as He promised, and judge the world.\" With this idea they\nrecommended themselves to the mercy of the Redeemer.\n\nBut round about there was calm. The hills seemed to be warming\nthemselves, and resting in the sun. The procession stopped at last\nbetween the Circus and the Vatican Hill. Soldiers began now to dig a\nhole; others placed on the ground the cross, hammers, and nails, waiting\ntill all preparations were finished. The crowd, continuing quiet and\nattentive, knelt round about.\n\nThe Apostle, with his head in the sun-rays and golden light, turned for\nthe last time toward the city. At a distance lower down was seen the\ngleaming Tiber; beyond was the Campus Martius; higher up, the Mausoleum\nof Augustus; below that, the gigantic baths just begun by Nero; still\nlower, Pompey's theatre; and beyond them were visible in places, and\nin places hidden by other buildings, the Septa Julia, a multitude of\nporticos, temples, columns, great edifices; and, finally, far in the\ndistance, hills covered with houses, a gigantic resort of people, the\nborders of which vanished in the blue haze,--an abode of crime, but\nof power; of madness, but of order,--which had become the head of the\nworld, its oppressor, but its law and its peace, almighty, invincible,\neternal.\n\nBut Peter, surrounded by soldiers, looked at the city as a ruler and\nking looks at his inheritance. And he said to it, \"Thou art redeemed\nand mine!\" And no one, not merely among the soldiers digging the hole\nin which to plant the cross, but even among believers, could divine that\nstanding there among them was the true ruler of that moving life; that\nCæsars would pass away, waves of barbarians go by, and ages vanish, but\nthat old man would be lord there unbrokenly.\n\nThe sun had sunk still more toward Ostia, and had become large and\nred. The whole western side of the sky had begun to glow with immense\nbrightness. The soldiers approached Peter to strip him.\n\nBut he, while praying, straightened himself all at once, and stretched\nhis right hand high. The executioners stopped, as if made timid by his\nposture; the faithful held the breath in their breasts, thinking that he\nwished to say something, and silence unbroken followed.\n\nBut he, standing on the height, with his extended right hand made the\nsign of the cross, blessing in the hour of death,--\n\nUrbi et orbi! (the city and the world).\n\n\nIn that same wonderful evening another detachment of soldiers conducted\nalong the Ostian Way Paul of Tarsus toward a place called Aquæ Salviæ.\nAnd behind him also advanced a crowd of the faithful whom he had\nconverted; but when he recognized near acquaintances, he halted and\nconversed with them, for, being a Roman citizen, the guard showed more\nrespect to him. Beyond the gate called Tergemina he met Plautilla, the\ndaughter of the prefect Flavius Sabinus, and, seeing her youthful face\ncovered with tears, he said: \"Plautilla, daughter of Eternal Salvation,\ndepart in peace. Only give me a veil with which to bind my eyes when I\nam going to the Lord.\" And taking it, he advanced with a face as full\nof delight as that of a laborer who when he has toiled the whole day\nsuccessfully is returning home. His thoughts, like those of Peter,\nwere as calm and quiet as that evening sky. His eyes gazed with\nthoughtfulness upon the plain which stretched out before him, and to the\nAlban Hills, immersed in light. He remembered his journeys, his toils,\nhis labor, the struggles in which he had conquered, the churches which\nhe had founded in all lands and beyond all seas; and he thought that he\nhad earned his rest honestly, that he had finished his work. He felt now\nthat the seed which he had planted would not be blown away by the wind\nof malice. He was leaving this life with the certainty that in the\nbattle which his truth had declared against the world it would conquer;\nand a mighty peace settled down on his soul.\n\nThe road to the place of execution was long, and evening was coming. The\nmountains became purple, and the bases of them went gradually into the\nshade. Flocks were returning home. Here and there groups of slaves were\nwalking with the tools of labor on their shoulders. Children, playing on\nthe road before houses, looked with curiosity at the passing soldiers.\nBut in that evening, in that transparent golden air, there were not only\npeace and lovingness, but a certain harmony, which seemed to lift from\nearth to heaven. Paul felt this; and his heart was filled with delight\nat the thought that to that harmony of the world he had added one note\nwhich had not been in it hitherto, but without which the whole earth was\nlike sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.\n\nHe remembered how he had taught people love,--how he had told them that\nthough they were to give their property to the poor, though they knew\nall languages, all secrets, and all sciences, they would be nothing\nwithout love, which is kind, enduring, which does not return evil, which\ndoes not desire honor, suffers all things, believes all things, hopes\nall things, is patient of all things.\n\nAnd so his life had passed in teaching people this truth. And now he\nsaid in spirit: What power can equal it, what can conquer it? Could\nCæsar stop it, though he had twice as many legions and twice as many\ncities, seas, lands, and nations?\n\nAnd he went to his reward like a conqueror.\n\nThe detachment left the main road at last, and turned toward the east on\na narrow path leading to the Aquæ Salviæ. The red sun was lying now on\nthe heather. The centurion stopped the soldiers at the fountain, for the\nmoment had come.\n\nPaul placed Plautilla's veil on his arm, intending to bind his eyes with\nit; for the last time he raised those eyes, full of unspeakable peace,\ntoward the eternal light of the evening, and prayed. Yes, the moment\nhad come; but he saw before him a great road in the light, leading to\nheaven; and in his soul he repeated the same words which formerly he had\nwritten in the feeling of his own finished service and his near end,--\n\n\"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the\nfaith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXXI\n\n\nROME had gone mad for a long time, so that the world-conquering city\nseemed ready at last to tear itself to pieces for want of leadership.\nEven before the last hour of the Apostles had struck, Piso's conspiracy\nappeared; and then such merciless reaping of Rome's highest heads, that\neven to those who saw divinity in Nero, he seemed at last a divinity of\ndeath. Mourning fell on the city, terror took its lodgment in houses and\nin hearts, but porticos were crowned with ivy and flowers, for it was\nnot permitted to show sorrow for the dead. People waking in the morning\nasked themselves whose turn would come next. The retinue of ghosts\nfollowing Cæsar increased every day.\n\nPiso paid for the conspiracy with his head; after him followed Seneca,\nand Lucan, Fenius Rufus, and Plautius Lateranus, and Flavius Scevinus,\nand Afranius Quinetianus, and the dissolute companion of Cæsar's\nmadnesses, Tullius Senecio, and Proculus, and Araricus, and Tugurinus,\nand Gratus, and Silanus, and Proximus,--once devoted with his whole\nsoul to Nero,--and Sulpicius Asper. Some were destroyed by their own\ninsignificance, some by fear, some by wealth, others by bravery. Cæsar,\nastonished at the very number of the conspirators, covered the walls\nwith soldiery and held the city as if by siege, sending out daily\ncenturions with sentences of death to suspected houses. The condemned\nhumiliated themselves in letters filled with flattery, thanking Cæsar\nfor his sentences, and leaving him a part of their property, so as to\nsave the rest for their children. It seemed, at last, that Nero was\nexceeding every measure on purpose to convince himself of the degree in\nwhich men had grown abject, and how long they would endure bloody\nrule. After the conspirators, their relatives were executed; then their\nfriends, and even simple acquaintances. Dwellers in lordly mansions\nbuilt after the fire, when they went out on the street, felt sure of\nseeing a whole row of funerals. Pompeius, Cornelius, Martialis, Flavius\nNepos, and Statius Domitius died because accused of lack of love\nfor Cæsar; Novius Priscus, as a friend of Seneca. Rufius Crispus was\ndeprived of the right of fire and water because on a time he had been\nthe husband of Poppæa. The great Thrasea was ruined by his virtue; many\npaid with their lives for noble origin; even Poppæa fell a victim to the\nmomentary rage of Nero.\n\nThe Senate crouched before the dreadful ruler; it raised a temple in\nhis honor, made an offering in favor of his voice, crowned his statues,\nappointed priests to him as to a divinity. Senators, trembling in their\nsouls, went to the Palatine to magnify the song of the \"Periodonices,\"\nand go wild with him amid orgies of naked bodies, wine, and flowers.\n\nBut meanwhile from below, in the field soaked in blood and tears, rose\nthe sowing of Peter, stronger and stronger every moment.\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXXII\n\nVINICIUS to PETRONIUS:\n\n\n\"We know, carissime, most of what is happening in Rome, and what we do\nnot know is told us in thy letters. When one casts a stone in the water,\nthe wave goes farther and farther in a circle; so the wave of madness\nand malice has come from the Palatine to us. On the road to Greece,\nCarinas was sent hither by Cæsar, who plundered cities and temples to\nfill the empty treasury. At the price of the sweat and tears of people,\nhe is building the 'golden house' in Rome. It is possible that the world\nhas not seen such a house, but it has not seen such injustice. Thou\nknowest Carinas. Chilo was like him till he redeemed his life with\ndeath. But to the towns lying nearer us his men have not come yet,\nperhaps because there are no temples or treasures in them. Thou askest\nif we are out of danger. I answer that we are out of mind, and let that\nsuffice for an answer. At this moment, from the portico under which I\nwrite, I see our calm bay, and on it Ursus in a boat, letting down a\nnet in the clear water. My wife is spinning red wool near me, and in the\ngardens, under the shade of almond-trees, our slaves are singing.\nOh, what calm carissime, and what a forgetfulness of former fear and\nsuffering! But it is not the Parcæ as thou writest, who spin out our\nlives so agreeably; it is Christ who is blessing us, our beloved God and\nSaviour. We know tears and sorrow, for our religion teaches us to weep\nover the misfortunes of others; but in these tears is a consolation\nunknown to thee; for whenever the time of our life is ended, we shall\nfind all those dear ones who perished and who are perishing yet for\nGod's truth. For us Peter and Paul are not dead; they are merely born\ninto glory. Our souls see them, and when our eyes weep our hearts\nare glad with their joy. Oh, yes, my dear friend, we are happy with a\nhappiness which nothing can destroy, since death, which for thee is the\nend of everything, is for us only a passage into superior rest.\n\n\"And so days and months pass here in calmness of heart. Our servants and\nslaves believe, as we do, in Christ, and that He enjoins love; hence we\nlove one another. Frequently, when the sun has gone down, or when the\nmoon is shining in the water, Lygia and I talk of past times, which seem\na dream to us; but when I think how that dear head was near torture and\ndeath, I magnify my Lord with my whole soul, for out of those hands He\nalone could wrest her, save her from the arena, and return her to me\nforever. O Petronius, thou hast seen what endurance and comfort that\nreligion gives in misfortune, how much patience and courage before\ndeath; so come and see how much happiness it gives in ordinary, common\ndays of life. People thus far did not know a God whom man could\nlove, hence they did not love one another; and from that came their\nmisfortune, for as light comes from the sun, so does happiness come from\nlove. Neither lawgivers nor philosophers taught this truth, and it did\nnot exist in Greece or Rome; and when I say, not in Rome, that means the\nwhole world. The dry and cold teaching of the Stoics, to which virtuous\npeople rally, tempers the heart as a sword is tempered, but it makes it\nindifferent rather than better. Though why do I write this to thee, who\nhast learned more, and hast more understanding than I have? Thou wert\nacquainted with Paul of Tarsus, and more than once didst converse long\nwith him; hence thou knowest better if in comparison with the truth\nwhich he taught all the teachings of philosophers and rhetors are not\na vain and empty jingle of words without meaning. Thou rememberest the\nquestion which he put thee: 'But if Cæsar were a Christian, would ye\nnot all feel safer, surer of possessing that which ye possess, free of\nalarm, and sure of to-morrow?' Thou didst say to me that our teaching\nwas an enemy of life; and I answer thee now, that, if from the beginning\nof this letter I had been repeating only the three words, 'I am happy!'\nI could not have expressed my happiness to thee. To this thou wilt\nanswer, that my happiness is Lygia. True, my friend. Because I love her\nimmortal soul, and because we both love each other in Christ; for such\nlove there is no separation, no deceit, no change, no old age, no death.\nFor, when youth and beauty pass, when our bodies wither and death comes,\nlove will remain, for the spirit remains. Before my eyes were open to\nthe light I was ready to burn my own house even, for Lygia's sake; but\nnow I tell thee that I did not love her, for it was Christ who first\ntaught me to love. In Him is the source of peace and happiness. It\nis not I who say this, but reality itself. Compare thy own luxury,\nmy friend, lined with alarm, thy delights, not sure of a morrow, thy\norgies, with the lives of Christians, and thou wilt find a ready answer.\nBut, to compare better, come to our mountains with the odor of thyme, to\nour shady olive groves on our shores lined with ivy. A peace is waiting\nfor thee, such as thou hast not known for a long time, and hearts that\nlove thee sincerely. Thou, having a noble soul and a good one, shouldst\nbe happy. Thy quick mind can recognize the truth, and knowing it thou\nwilt love it. To be its enemy, like Cæsar and Tigellinus, is possible,\nbut indifferent to it no one can be. O my Petronius, Lygia and I are\ncomforting ourselves with the hope of seeing thee soon. Be well, be\nhappy, and come to us.\"\n\n\nPetronius received this letter in Cumæ, whither he had gone with other\nAugustians who were following Cæsar. His struggle of long years with\nTigellinus was nearing its end. Petronius knew already that he must fall\nin that struggle, and he understood why. As Cæsar fell lower daily to\nthe role of a comedian, a buffoon, and a charioteer; as he sank deeper\nin a sickly, foul, and coarse dissipation,--the exquisite arbiter became\na mere burden to him. Even when Petronius was silent, Nero saw blame in\nhis silence; when the arbiter praised, he saw ridicule. The brilliant\npatrician annoyed his self-love and roused his envy. His wealth and\nsplendid works of art had become an object of desire both to the ruler\nand the all-powerful minister. Petronius was spared so far in view of\nthe journey to Achæa, in which his taste, his knowledge of everything\nGreek, might be useful. But gradually Tigellinus explained to Cæsar that\nCarinas surpassed him in taste and knowledge, and would be better able\nto arrange in Achæa games, receptions, and triumphs. From that moment\nPetronius was lost. There was not courage to send him his sentence in\nRome. Cæsar and Tigellinus remembered that that apparently effeminate\nand æsthetic person, who made \"day out of night,\" and was occupied only\nin luxury, art, and feasts, had shown amazing industry and energy,\nwhen proconsul in Bithynia and later when consul in the capital. They\nconsidered him capable of anything, and it was known that in Rome he\npossessed not only the love of the people, but even of the pretorians.\nNone of Cæsar's confidants could foresee how Petronius might act in a\ngiven case; it seemed wiser, therefore, to entice him out of the city,\nand reach him in a province.\n\nWith this object he received an invitation to go to Cumæ with other\nAugustians. He went, though suspecting the ambush, perhaps so as not\nto appear in open opposition, perhaps to show once more a joyful face\ndevoid of every care to Cæsar and the Augustians, and to gain a last\nvictory before death over Tigellinus.\n\nMeanwhile the latter accused him of friendship with the Senator\nScevinus, who was the soul of Piso's conspiracy. The people of\nPetronius, left in Rome, were imprisoned; his house was surrounded by\npretorian guards. When he learned this, he showed neither alarm nor\nconcern, and with a smile said to Augustians whom he received in his own\nsplendid villa in Cumæ,--\n\n\"Ahenobarbus does not like direct questions; hence ye will see his\nconfusion when I ask him if it was he who gave command to imprison my\n'familia' in the capital.\"\n\nThen he invited them to a feast \"before the longer journey,\" and he had\njust made preparations for it when the letter from Vinicius came.\n\nWhen he received this letter, Petronius grew somewhat thoughtful,\nbut after a time his face regained its usual composure, and that same\nevening he answered as follows:--\n\n\"I rejoice at your happiness and admire your hearts, for I had not\nthought that two lovers could remember a third person who was far away.\nYe have not only not forgotten me, but ye wish to persuade me to go to\nSicily, so that ye may share with me your bread and your Christ, who, as\nthou writest, has given you happiness so bountifully.\n\n\"If that be true, honor Him. To my thinking, however, Ursus had\nsomething to do with saving Lygia, and the Roman people also had a\nlittle to do with it. But since thy belief is that Christ did the\nwork, I will not contradict. Spare no offerings to Him. Prometheus also\nsacrificed himself for man; but, alas! Prometheus is an invention of the\npoets apparently, while people worthy of credit have told me that they\nsaw Christ with their own eyes. I agree with thee that He is the most\nworthy of the gods.\n\n\"I remember the question by Paul of Tarsus, and I think that if\nAhenobarbus lived according to Christ's teaching I might have time to\nvisit you in Sicily. In that case we could converse, in the shade of\ntrees and near fountains, of all the gods and all the truths discussed\nby Greek philosophers at any time. To-day I must give thee a brief\nanswer.\n\n\"I care for two philosophers only: Pyrrho and Anacreon. I am ready to\nsell the rest to thee cheaply, with all the Greek and Roman Stoics.\nTruth, Vinicius, dwells somewhere so high that the gods themselves\ncannot see it from the top of Olympus. To thee, carissime, thy Olympus\nseems higher still, and, standing there, thou callest to me, 'Come, thou\nwilt see such sights as thou hast not seen yet!' I might. But I answer,\n'I have not feet for the journey.' And if thou read this letter to the\nend, thou wilt acknowledge, I think, that I am right.\n\n\"No, happy husband of the Aurora princess! thy religion is not for me.\nAm I to love the Bithynians who carry my litter, the Egyptians who heat\nmy bath? Am I to love Ahenobarbus and Tigellinus? I swear by the white\nknees of the Graces, that even if I wished to love them I could not.\nIn Rome there are a hundred thousand persons at least who have either\ncrooked shoulders, or big knees, or thin thighs, or staring eyes, or\nheads that are too large. Dost thou command me to love these too? Where\nam I to find the love, since it is not in my heart? And if thy God\ndesires me to love such persons, why in His all might did He not give\nthem the forms of Niobe's children, for example, which thou hast seen on\nthe Palatine? Whoso loves beauty is unable for that very reason to love\ndeformity. One may not believe in our gods, but it is possible to love\nthem, as Phidias, Praxiteles, Miron, Skopas, and Lysias loved.\n\n\"Should I wish to go whither thou wouldst lead me, I could not. But\nsince I do not wish, I am doubly unable. Thou believest, like Paul of\nTarsus, that on the other side of the Styx thou wilt see thy Christ in\ncertain Elysian fields. Let Him tell thee then Himself whether He would\nreceive me with my gems, my Myrrhene vase, my books published by Sozius,\nand my golden-haired Eunice. I laugh at this thought; for Paul of\nTarsus told me that for Christ's sake one must give up wreaths of roses,\nfeasts, and luxury. It is true that he promised me other happiness, but\nI answered that I was too old for new happiness, that my eyes would be\ndelighted always with roses, and that the odor of violets is dearer to\nme than stench from my foul neighbor of the Subura.\n\n\"These are reasons why thy happiness is not for me. But there is one\nreason more, which I have reserved for the last: Thanatos summons\nme. For thee the light of life is beginning; but my sun has set, and\ntwilight is embracing my head. In other words, I must die, carissime.\n\n\"It is not worth while to talk long of this. It had to end thus. Thou,\nwho knowest Ahenobarbus, wilt understand the position easily. Tigellinus\nhas conquered, or rather my victories have touched their end. I have\nlived as I wished, and I will die as pleases me.\n\n\"Do not take this to heart. No God has promised me immortality; hence\nno surprise meets me. At the same time thou art mistaken, Vinicius, in\nasserting that only thy God teaches man to die calmly. No. Our world\nknew, before thou wert born, that when the last cup was drained, it\nwas time to go,--time to rest,--and it knows yet how to do that with\ncalmness. Plato declares that virtue is music, that the life of a sage\nis harmony. If that be true, I shall die as I have lived,--virtuously.\n\n\"I should like to take farewell of thy godlike wife in the words with\nwhich on a time I greeted her in the house of Aulus, 'Very many persons\nhave I seen, but thy equal I know not.'\n\n\"If the soul is more than what Pyrrho thinks, mine will fly to thee\nand Lygia, on its way to the edge of the ocean, and will alight at your\nhouse in the form of a butterfly or, as the Egyptians believe, in the\nform of a sparrowhawk. Otherwise I cannot come.\n\n\"Meanwhile let Sicily replace for you the gardens of Hesperides; may the\ngoddesses of the fields, woods, and fountains scatter flowers on your\npath, and may white doves build their nests on every acanthus of the\ncolumns of your house.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LXXIII\n\n\nPETRONIUS was not mistaken. Two days later young Nerva, who had always\nbeen friendly and devoted, sent his freedman to Cumæ with news of what\nwas happening at the court of Cæsar.\n\nThe death of Petronius had been determined. On the morning of the\nfollowing day they intended to send him a centurion, with the order\nto stop at Cumæ, and wait there for further instructions; the next\nmessenger, to follow a few days later, was to bring the death sentence.\n\nPetronius heard the news with unruffled calmness.\n\n\"Thou wilt take to thy lord,\" said he, \"one of my vases; say from me\nthat I thank him with my whole soul, for now I am able to anticipate the\nsentence.\"\n\nAnd all at once he began to laugh, like a man who has came upon a\nperfect thought, and rejoices in advance at its fulfilment.\n\nThat same afternoon his slaves rushed about, inviting the Augustians,\nwho were staying in Cumæ, and all the ladies, to a magnificent banquet\nat the villa of the arbiter.\n\nHe wrote that afternoon in the library; next he took a bath, after which\nhe commanded the vestiplicæ to arrange his dress. Brilliant and stately\nas one of the gods, he went to the triclinium, to cast the eye of a\ncritic on the preparations, and then to the gardens, where youths and\nGrecian maidens from the islands were weaving wreaths of roses for the\nevening.\n\nNot the least care was visible on his face. The servants only knew that\nthe feast would be something uncommon, for he had issued a command\nto give unusual rewards to those with whom he was satisfied, and\nsome slight blows to all whose work should not please him, or who had\ndeserved blame or punishment earlier. To the cithara players and the\nsingers he had ordered beforehand liberal pay. At last, sitting in the\ngarden under a beech, through whose leaves the sun-rays marked the earth\nwith bright spots, he called Eunice.\n\nShe came, dressed in white, with a sprig of myrtle in her hair,\nbeautiful as one of the Graces. He seated her at his side, and, touching\nher temple gently with his fingers, he gazed at her with that admiration\nwith which a critic gazes at a statue from the chisel of a master.\n\n\"Eunice,\" asked he, \"dost thou know that thou art not a slave this long\ntime?\"\n\nShe raised to him her calm eyes, as blue as the sky, and denied with a\nmotion of her head.\n\n\"I am thine always,\" said she.\n\n\"But perhaps thou knowest not,\" continued Petronius, \"that the villa,\nand those slaves twining wreaths here, and all which is in the villa,\nwith the fields and the herds, are thine henceforward.\"\n\nEunice, when she heard this, drew away from him quickly, and asked in a\nvoice filled with sudden fear,--\n\n\"Why dost thou tell me this?\"\n\nThen she approached again, and looked at him, blinking with amazement.\nAfter a while her face became as pale as linen. He smiled, and said only\none word,--\n\n\"So!\"\n\nA moment of silence followed; merely a slight breeze moved the leaves of\nthe beech.\n\nPetronius might have thought that before him was a statue cut from white\nmarble.\n\n\"Eunice,\" said he, \"I wish to die calmly.\"\n\nAnd the maiden, looking at him with a heart-rending smile, whispered,--\n\n\"I hear thee.\"\n\nIn the evening the guests, who had been at feasts given by Petronius\npreviously, and knew that in comparison with them even Cæsar's banquets\nseemed tiresome and barbarous, began to arrive in numbers. To no one did\nit occur, even, that that was to be the last \"symposium.\" Many knew,\nit is true, that the clouds of Cæsar's anger were hanging over the\nexquisite arbiter; but that had happened so often, and Petronius had\nbeen able so often to scatter them by some dexterous act or by a single\nbold word, that no one thought really that serious danger threatened\nhim. His glad face and usual smile, free of care, confirmed all, to the\nlast man, in that opinion. The beautiful Eunice, to whom he had declared\nhis wish to die calmly, and for whom every word of his was like an\nutterance of fate, had in her features a perfect calmness, and in her\neyes a kind of wonderful radiance, which might have been considered\ndelight. At the door of the triclinium, youths with hair in golden nets\nput wreaths of roses on the heads of the guests, warning them, as the\ncustom was, to pass the threshold right foot foremost. In the hall there\nwas a slight odor of violets; the lamps burned in Alexandrian glass of\nvarious colors. At the couches stood Grecian maidens, whose office it\nwas to moisten the feet of guests with perfumes. At the walls cithara\nplayers and Athenian choristers were waiting for the signal of their\nleader.\n\nThe table service gleamed with splendor, but that splendor did not\noffend or oppress; it seemed a natural development. Joyousness and\nfreedom spread through the hall with the odor of violets. The guests as\nthey entered felt that neither threat nor constraint was hanging over\nthem, as in Cæsar's house, where a man might forfeit his life for\npraises not sufficiently great or sufficiently apposite. At sight of the\nlamps, the goblets entwined with ivy, the wine cooling on banks of\nsnow, and the exquisite dishes, the hearts of the guests became joyous.\nConversation of various kinds began to buzz, as bees buzz on an apple\ntree in blossom. At moments it was interrupted by an outburst of glad\nlaughter, at moments by murmurs of applause, at moments by a kiss placed\ntoo loudly on some white shoulder.\n\nThe guests, while drinking wine, spilled from their goblets a few drops\nto the immortal gods, to gain their protection, and their favor for\nthe host. It mattered not that many of them had no belief in the gods.\nCustom and superstition prescribed it. Petronius, inclining near Eunice,\ntalked of Rome, of the latest divorces, of love affairs, of the races,\nof Spiculus, who had become famous recently in the arena, and of the\nlatest books in the shops of Atractus and the Sozii. When he spilled\nwine, he said that he spilled it only in honor of the Lady of Cyprus,\nthe most ancient divinity and the greatest, the only immortal, enduring,\nand ruling one.\n\nHis conversation was like sunlight which lights up some new object every\ninstant, or like the summer breeze which stirs flowers in a garden. At\nlast he gave a signal to the leader of the music, and at that signal the\ncitharæ began to sound lightly, and youthful voices accompanied. Then\nmaidens from Kos, the birthplace of Eunice, danced, and showed their\nrosy forms through robes of gauze. Finally, an Egyptian soothsayer told\nthe guests their future from the movement of rainbow colors in a vessel\nof crystal.\n\nWhen they had enough of these amusements, Petronius rose somewhat on his\nSyrian cushion, and said with hesitation,--\n\n\"Pardon me, friends, for asking a favor at a feast. Will each man accept\nas a gift that goblet from which he first shook wine in honor of the\ngods and to my prosperity?\"\n\nThe goblets of Petronius were gleaming in gold, precious stones, and\nthe carving of artists; hence, though gift giving was common in Rome,\ndelight filled every heart. Some thanked him loudly: others said that\nJove had never honored gods with such gifts in Olympus; finally, there\nwere some who refused to accept, since the gifts surpassed common\nestimate.\n\nBut he raised aloft the Myrrhene vase, which resembled a rainbow in\nbrilliancy, and was simply beyond price.\n\n\"This,\" said he, \"is the one out of which I poured in honor of the Lady\nof Cyprus. The lips of no man may touch it henceforth, and no hand may\never pour from it in honor of another divinity.\"\n\nHe cast the precious vessel to the pavement, which was covered with\nlily-colored saffron flowers; and when it was broken into small pieces,\nhe said, seeing around him astonished faces,--\n\n\"My dear friends, be glad and not astonished. Old age and weakness are\nsad attendants in the last years of life. But I will give you a good\nexample and good advice: Ye have the power, as ye see, not to wait for\nold age; ye can depart before it comes, as I do.\"\n\n\"What dost thou wish?\" asked a number of voices, with alarm.\n\n\"I wish to rejoice, to drink wine, to hear music, to look on those\ndivine forms which ye see around me, and fall asleep with a garlanded\nhead. I have taken farewell of Cæsar, and do ye wish to hear what I\nwrote him at parting?\"\n\nHe took from beneath the purple cushion a paper, and read as follows:--\n\n\"I know, O Cæsar, that thou art awaiting my arrival with impatience,\nthat thy true heart of a friend is yearning day and night for me. I\nknow that thou art ready to cover me with gifts, make me prefect of the\npretorian guards, and command Tigellinus to be that which the gods\nmade him, a mule-driver in those lands which thou didst inherit after\npoisoning Domitius. Pardon me, however, for I swear to thee by Hades,\nand by the shades of thy mother, thy wife, thy brother, and Seneca, that\nI cannot go to thee. Life is a great treasure. I have taken the most\nprecious jewels from that treasure, but in life there are many things\nwhich I cannot endure any longer. Do not suppose, I pray, that I am\noffended because thou didst kill thy mother, thy wife, and thy brother;\nthat thou didst burn Rome and send to Erebus all the honest men in thy\ndominions. No, grandson of Chronos. Death is the inheritance of man;\nfrom thee other deeds could not have been expected. But to destroy one's\near for whole years with thy poetry, to see thy belly of a Domitius\non slim legs whirled about in Pyrrhic dance; to hear thy music, thy\ndeclamation, thy doggerel verses, wretched poet of the suburbs,--is a\nthing surpassing my power, and it has roused in me the wish to die. Rome\nstuffs its ears when it hears thee; the world reviles thee. I can blush\nfor thee no longer, and I have no wish to do so. The howls of Cerberus,\nthough resembling thy music, will be less offensive to me, for I have\nnever been the friend of Cerberus, and I need not be ashamed of his\nhowling. Farewell, but make no music; commit murder, but write no\nverses; poison people, but dance not; be an incendiary, but play not on\na cithara. This is the wish and the last friendly counsel sent thee by\nthe--Arbiter Elegantiæ.\"\n\nThe guests were terrified, for they knew that the loss of dominion would\nhave been less cruel to Nero than this blow. They understood, too, that\nthe man who had written that paper must die; and at the same time pale\nfear flew over them because they had heard such a paper.\n\nBut Petronius laughed with sincere and gladsome joy, as if it were\na question of the most innocent joke; then he cast his eyes on all\npresent, and said,--\n\n\"Be joyous, and drive away fear. No one need boast that he heard this\nletter. I will boast of it only to Charon when I am crossing in the boat\nwith him.\"\n\nHe beckoned then to the Greek physician, and stretched out his arm. The\nskilled Greek in the twinkle of an eye opened the vein at the bend\nof the arm. Blood spurted on the cushion, and covered Eunice, who,\nsupporting the head of Petronius, bent over him and said,--\n\n\"Didst thou think that I would leave thee? If the gods gave me\nimmortality, and Cæsar gave me power over the earth, I would follow thee\nstill.\"\n\nPetronius smiled, raised himself a little, touched her lips with his,\nand said,--\n\n\"Come with me.\"\n\nShe stretched her rosy arm to the physician, and after a while her blood\nbegan to mingle and be lost in his blood.\n\nThen he gave a signal to the leader of the music, and again the voices\nand cithariæ were heard. They sang \"Harmodius\"; next the song of\nAnacreon resounded,--that song in which he complained that on a time\nhe had found Aphrodite's boy chilled and weeping under trees; that he\nbrought him in, warmed him, dried his wings, and the ungrateful child\npierced his heart with an arrow,--from that moment peace had deserted\nthe poet.\n\nPetronius and Eunice, resting against each other, beautiful as two\ndivinities, listened, smiling and growing pale. At the end of the song\nPetronius gave directions to serve more wine and food; then he conversed\nwith the guests sitting near him of trifling but pleasant things, such\nas are mentioned usually at feasts. Finally, he called to the Greek to\nbind his arm for a moment; for he said that sleep was tormenting him,\nand he wanted to yield himself to Hypnos before Thanatos put him to\nsleep forever.\n\nIn fact, he fell asleep. When he woke, the head of Eunice was lying on\nhis breast like a white flower. He placed it on the pillow to look at it\nonce more. After that his veins were opened again.\n\nAt his signal the singers raised the song of Anacreon anew, and the\ncitharæ accompanied them so softly as not to drown a word. Petronius\ngrew paler and paler; but when the last sound had ceased, he turned to\nhis guests again and said,\n\n\"Friends, confess that with us perishes--\"\n\nBut he had not power to finish; his arm with its last movement embraced\nEunice, his head fell on the pillow, and he died.\n\nThe guests looking at those two white forms, which resembled two\nwonderful statues, understood well that with them perished all that was\nleft to their world at that time,--poetry and beauty.\n\n\n\n\nEPILOGUE\n\n\nAT first the revolt of the Gallic legions under Vindex did not seem very\nserious. Cæsar was only in his thirty-first year, and no one was bold\nenough to hope that the world could be freed so soon from the nightmare\nwhich was stifling it. Men remembered that revolts had occurred\nmore than once among the legions,--they had occurred in previous\nreigns,--revolts, however, which passed without involving a change of\ngovernment; as during the reign of Tiberius, Drusus put down the\nrevolt of the Pannonian legions. \"Who,\" said the people, \"can take the\ngovernment after Nero, since all the descendants of the divine Augustus\nhave perished?\" Others, looking at the Colossus, imagined him a\nHercules, and thought that no force could break such power. There were\nthose even who since he went to Achæa were sorry for him, because\nHelius and Polythetes, to whom he left the government of Rome and Italy,\ngoverned more murderously than he had.\n\nNo one was sure of life or property. Law ceased to protect. Human\ndignity and virtue had perished, family bonds existed no longer, and\ndegraded hearts did not even dare to admit hope. From Greece came\naccounts of the incomparable triumphs of Cæsar, of the thousands of\ncrowns which he had won, the thousands of competitors whom he had\nvanquished. The world seemed to be one orgy of buffoonery and blood; but\nat the same time the opinion was fixed that virtue and deeds of dignity\nhad ceased, that the time of dancing and music, of profligacy, of blood,\nhad come, and that life must flow on for the future in that way. Cæsar\nhimself, to whom rebellion opened the road to new robberies, was not\nconcerned much about the revolt of the legions and Vindex; he even\nexpressed his delight on that subject frequently. He did not wish to\nleave Achæa even; and only when Helius informed him that further delay\nmight cause the loss of dominion did he move to Naples.\n\nThere he played and sang, neglecting news of events of growing danger.\nIn vain did Tigellinus explain to him that former rebellions of legions\nhad no leaders, while at the head of affairs this time was a man\ndescended from the ancient kings of Gaul and Aquitania, a famous and\ntried soldier. \"Here,\" answered Nero, \"the Greeks listen to me,--the\nGreeks, who alone know how to listen, and who alone are worthy of my\nsong.\" He said that his first duty was art and glory. But when at last\nthe news came that Vindex had proclaimed him a wretched artist, he\nsprang up and moved toward Rome. The wounds inflicted by Petronius, and\nhealed by his stay in Greece, opened in his heart anew, and he wished to\nseek retribution from the Senate for such unheard-of injustice.\n\nOn the road he saw a group cast in bronze, representing a Gallic warrior\nas overcome by a Roman knight; he considered that a good omen, and\nthenceforward, if he mentioned the rebellious legions and Vindex, it was\nonly to ridicule them. His entrance to the city surpassed all that had\nbeen witnessed earlier. He entered in the chariot used by Augustus in\nhis triumph. One arch of the Circus was destroyed to give a road to the\nprocession. The Senate, knights, and innumerable throngs of people went\nforth to meet him. The walls trembled from shouts of \"Hail, Augustus!\nHail, Hercules! Hail, divinity, the incomparable, the Olympian, the\nPythian, the immortal!\" Behind him were borne the crowns, the names\nof cities in which he had triumphed; and on tablets were inscribed\nthe names of the masters whom he had vanquished. Nero himself was\nintoxicated with delight, and with emotion he asked the Augustians who\nstood around him, \"What was the triumph of Julius compared with this?\"\nThe idea that any mortal should dare to raise a hand on such a demigod\ndid not enter his head. He felt himself really Olympian, and therefore\nsafe. The excitement and the madness of the crowd roused his own\nmadness. In fact, it might seem in the day of that triumph that not\nmerely Cæsar and the city, but the world, had lost its senses.\n\nThrough the flowers and the piles of wreaths no one could see the\nprecipice. Still that same evening columns and walls of temples were\ncovered with inscriptions, describing Nero's crimes, threatening him\nwith coming vengeance, and ridiculing him as an artist. From mouth to\nmouth went the phrase, \"He sang till he roused the Gauls.\" Alarming news\nmade the rounds of the city, and reached enormous measures. Alarm seized\nthe Augustians. People, uncertain of the future, dazed not express hopes\nor wishes; they hardly dared to feel or think.\n\nBut he went on living only in the theatre and music. Instruments newly\ninvented occupied him, and a new water-organ, of which trials were made\non the Palatine. With childish mind, incapable of plan or action, he\nimagined that he could ward off danger by promises of spectacles and\ntheatrical exhibitions reaching far into the future, Persons nearest\nhim, seeing that instead of providing means and an army, he was merely\nsearching for expressions to depict the danger graphically, began to\nlose their heads. Others thought that he was simply deafening himself\nand others with quotations, while in his soul he was alarmed and\nterrified. In fact, his acts became feverish. Every day a thousand new\nplans flew through his head. At times he sprang up to rush out against\ndanger; gave command to pack up his lutes and citharæ, to arm the young\nslave women as Amazons, and lead the legions to the East. Again he\nthought to finish the rebellion of the Gallic legions, not with war, but\nwith song; and his soul laughed at the spectacle which was to follow\nhis conquest of the soldiers by song. The legionaries would surround\nhim with tears in their eyes; he would sing to them an epinicium, after\nwhich the golden epoch would begin for him and for Rome. At one time he\ncalled for blood; at another he declared that he would be satisfied\nwith governing in Egypt. He recalled the prediction which promised\nhim lordship in Jerusalem, and he was moved by the thought that as\na wandering minstrel he would earn his daily bread,--that cities and\ncountries would honor in him, not Cæsar, the lord of the earth, but a\npoet whose like the world had not produced before. And so he struggled,\nraged, played, sang, changed his plan, changed his quotations, changed\nhis life and the world into a dream absurd, fantastic, dreadful, into an\nuproarious hunt composed of unnatural expressions, bad verses, groans,\ntears, and blood; but meanwhile the cloud in the west was increasing and\nthickening every day. The measure was exceeded; the insane comedy was\nnearing its end.\n\nWhen news that Galba and Spain had joined the uprising came to his ears,\nhe fell into rage and madness. He broke goblets, overturned the table at\na feast, and issued orders which neither Helius nor Tigeliinus himself\ndared to execute. To kill Gauls resident in Rome, fire the city a second\ntime, let out the wild beasts, and transfer the capital to Alexandria\nseemed to him great, astonishing, and easy. But the days of his dominion\nhad passed, and even those who shared in his former crimes began to look\non him as a madman.\n\nThe death of Vindex, and disagreement in the revolting legions seemed,\nhowever, to turn the scale to his side. Again new feasts, new triumphs,\nand new sentences were issued in Rome, till a certain night when a\nmessenger rushed up on a foaming horse, with the news that in the city\nitself the soldiers had raised the standard of revolt, and proclaimed\nGalba Cæsar.\n\nNero was asleep when the messenger came; but when he woke he called in\nvain for the night-guard, which watched at the entrance to his chambers.\nThe palace was empty. Slaves were plundering in the most distant corners\nthat which could be taken most quickly. But the sight of Nero frightened\nthem; he wandered alone through the palace, filling it with cries of\ndespair and fear.\n\nAt last his freedmen, Phaon, Sporus, and Epaphroditus, came to his\nrescue. They wished him to flee, and said that there was no time to be\nlost; but he deceived himself still. If he should dress in mourning and\nspeak to the Senate, would it resist his prayers and eloquence? If he\nshould use all his eloquence, his rhetoric and skill of an actor, would\nany one on earth have power to resist him? Would they not give him even\nthe prefecture of Egypt?\n\nThe freedmen, accustomed to flatter, had not the boldness yet to refuse\nhim directly; they only warned him that before he could reach the Forum\nthe people would tear him to pieces, and declared that if he did not\nmount his horse immediately, they too would desert him.\n\nPhaon offered refuge in his villa outside the Nomentan Gate. After a\nwhile they mounted horses, and, covering Nero's head with a mantle, they\ngalloped off toward the edge of the city. The night was growing pale.\nBut on the streets there was a movement which showed the exceptional\nnature of the time. Soldiers, now singly and now in small groups, were\nscattered through the city. Not far from the camp Cæsar's horse sprang\naside suddenly at sight of a corpse. The mantle slipped from his head;\na soldier recognized Nero, and, confused by the unexpected meeting,\ngave the military salute. While passing the pretorian camp, they heard\nthundering shouts in honor of Galba. Nero understood at last that the\nhour of death was near. Terror and reproaches of conscience seized him.\nHe declared that he saw darkness in front of him in the form of a black\ncloud. From that cloud came forth faces in which he saw his mother, his\nwife, and his brother. His teeth were chattering from fright; still his\nsoul of a comedian found a kind of charm in the horror of the moment.\nTo be absolute lord of the earth and lose all things, seemed to him the\nheight of tragedy; and faithful to himself, he played the first role to\nthe end. A fever for quotations took possession of him, and a passionate\nwish that those present should preserve them for posterity. At moments\nhe said that he wished to die, and called for Spiculus, the most skilled\nof all gladiators in killing. At moments he declaimed, \"Mother, wife,\nfather, call me to death!\" Flashes of hope rose in him, however, from\ntime to time,--hope vain and childish. He knew that he was going to\ndeath, and still he did not believe it.\n\nThey found the Nomentan Gate open. Going farther, they passed near\nOstrianum, where Peter had taught and baptized. At daybreak they reached\nPhaon's villa.\n\nThere the freedmen hid from him no longer the fact that it was time to\ndie. He gave command then to dig a grave, and lay on the ground so that\nthey might take accurate measurement. At sight of the earth thrown\nup, however, terror seized him. His fat face became pale, and on his\nforehead sweat stood like drops of dew in the morning. He delayed. In a\nvoice at once abject and theatrical, he declared that the hour had not\ncome yet; then he began again to quote. At last he begged them to\nburn his body. \"What an artist is perishing!\" repeated he, as if in\namazement.\n\nMeanwhile Phaon's messenger arrived with the announcement that the\nSenate had issued the sentence that the \"parricide\" was to be punished\naccording to ancient custom.\n\n\"What is the ancient custom?\" asked Nero, with whitened lips.\n\n\"They will fix thy neck in a fork, flog thee to death, and hurl thy body\ninto the Tiber,\" answered Epaphroditus, abruptly.\n\nNero drew aside the robe from his breast.\n\n\"It is time, then!\" said he, looking into the sky. And he repeated once\nmore, \"What an artist is perishing!\"\n\nAt that moment the tramp of a horse was heard. That was the centurion\ncoming with soldiers for the head of Ahenobarbus.\n\n\"Hurry!\" cried the freedmen.\n\nNero placed the knife to his neck, but pushed it only timidly. It was\nclear that he would never have courage to thrust it in. Epaphroditus\npushed his hand suddenly,--the knife sank to the handle. Nero's eyes\nturned in his head, terrible, immense, frightened.\n\n\"I bring thee life!\" cried the centurion, entering.\n\n\"Too late!\" said Nero, with a hoarse voice; then he added,--\n\n\"Here is faithfulness!\"\n\nIn a twinkle death seized his head. Blood from his heavy neck gushed in\na dark stream on the flowers of the garden. His legs kicked the ground,\nand he died.\n\nOn the morrow the faithful Acte wrapped his body in costly stuffs, and\nburned him on a pile filled with perfumes.\n\nAnd so Nero passed, as a whirlwind, as a storm, as a fire, as war or\ndeath passes; but the basilica of Peter rules till now, from the Vatican\nheights, the city, and the world.\n\nNear the ancient Porta Capena stands to this day a little chapel with\nthe inscription, somewhat worn: Quo Vadis, Domine?"