Quo Vadis - Henryk Sienkiewicz (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📗

Chapter X

THE house of Vinicius was indeed decked in the green of myrtle and ivy,

which had been hung on the walls and over the doors. The columns were

wreathed with grape vine. In the atrium, which was closed above by a

purple woollen cloth as protection from the night cold, it was as clear

as in daylight. Eight and twelve flamed lamps were burning; these were

like vessels, trees, animals, birds, or statues, holding cups filled

with perfumed olive oil, lamps of alabaster, marble, or gilded

Corinthian bronze, not so wonderful as that famed candlestick used by

Nero and taken from the temple of Apollo, but beautiful and made by

famous masters. Some of the lights were shaded by Alexandrian glass, or

transparent stuffs from the Indus, of red, blue, yellow, or violet

color, so that the whole atrium was filled with many colored rays.

Everywhere was given out the odor of nard, to which Vinicius had grown

used, and which he had learned to love in the Orient. The depths of the

house, in which the forms of male and female slaves were movmg, gleamed

also with light. In the triclinium a table was laid for four persons.

At the feast were to sit, besides Vinicius and Lygia, Petronius and

Chrysothemis. Vinicius had followed in everything the words of

Petronius, who advised him not to go for Lygia, but to send Atacinus

with the permission obtained from Cæsar, to receive her himself in the

house, receive her with friendliness and even with marks of honor.

 

“Thou wert drunk yesterday,” said he; “I saw thee. Thou didst act with

her like a quarryman from the Alban Hills. Be not over-insistent, and

remember that one should drink good wine slowly. Know too that it is

sweet to desire, but sweeter to be desired.”

 

Chrysothemis had her own and a somewhat different opinion on this point;

but Petronius, calling her his vestal and his dove, began to explain the

difference which must exist between a trained charioteer of the Circus

and the youth who sits on the quadriga for the first time. Then,

turning to Vinicius, he continued,—“Win her confidence, make her

joyful, be magnanimous. I have no wish to see a gloomy feast. Swear to

her, by Hades even, that thou wilt return her to Pomponia, and it will

be thy affair that tomorrow she prefers to stay with thee.”

 

Then pointing to Chrysothemis, he added,—“For five years I have acted

thus more or less with this timid dove, and I cannot complain of her

harshness.”

 

Chrysothemis struck him with her fan of peacock feathers, and said,—

“But I did not resist, thou satyr!”

 

“Out of consideration for my predecessor—”

 

“But wert thou not at my feet?”

 

“Yes; to put rings on thy toes.”

 

Chrysothemis looked involuntarily at her feet, on the toes of which

diamonds were really glittering; and she and Petronius began to laugh.

But Vinicius did not give ear to their bantering. His heart was beating

unquietly under the robes of a Syrian priest, in which he had arrayed

himself to receive Lygia.

 

“They must have left the palace,” said he, as if in a monologue.

 

“They must,” answered Petronius. “Meanwhile I may mention the

predictions of Apollonius of Tyana, or that history of Rufinus which I

have not finished, I do not remember why.”

 

But Vinicius cared no more for Apollonius of Tyana than for the history

of Rufinus. His mind was with Lygia; and though he felt that it was

more appropriate to receive her at home than to go in the rôle of a

myrmidon to the palace, he was sorry at moments that he had not gone,

for the single reason that he might have seen her sooner, and sat near

her in the dark, in the double litter.

 

Meanwhile slaves brought in a tripod ornamented with rams’ heads, bronze

dishes with coals, on which they sprinkled bits of myrrh and nard.

 

“Now they are turning toward the Carinæ,” said Vinicius, again.

 

“He cannot wait; he will run to meet the litter, and is likely to miss

them!” exclaimed Chrysothemis.

 

Vinicius smiled without thinking, and said,—“On the contrary, I will

wait.”

 

But he distended his nostrils and panted; seeing which, Petronius

shrugged his shoulders, and said,—“There is not in him a philosopher to

the value of one sestertium, and I shall never make a man of that son of

Mars.”

 

“They are now in the Carinæ.”

 

In fact, they were turning toward the Carinæ. The slaves called

lampadarii were in front; others called pedisequii, were on both sides

of the litter. Atacinus was right behind, overseeing the advance. But

they moved slowly, for lamps showed the way badly in a place not lighted

at all. The streets near the palace were empty; here and there only

some man moved forward with a lantern, but farther on the place was

uncommonly crowded. From almost every alley people were pushing out in

threes and fours, all without lamps, all in dark mantles. Some walked

on with the procession, mingling with the slaves; others in greater

numbers came from the opposite direction. Some staggered as if drunk.

At moments the advance grew so difficult that the lampadarii cried,—

“Give way to the noble tribune, Marcus Vinicius!”

 

Lygia saw those dark crowds through the curtains which were pushed

aside, and trembled with emotion. She was carried away at one moment by

hope, at another by fear.

 

“That is he!—that is Ursus and the Christians! Now it will happen

quickly,” said she, with trembling lips. “O Christ, aid! O Christ,

save!”

 

Atacinus himself, who at first did not notice the uncommon animation of

the street, began at last to be alarmed. There was something strange in

this. The lampadarii had to cry oftener and oftener, “Give way to the

litter of the noble tribune!” From the sides unknown people crowded up

to the litter so much that Atacinus commanded the slaves to repulse them

with clubs.

 

Suddenly a cry was heard in front of the procession. In one instant all

the lights were extinguished. Around the litter came a rush, an uproar,

a struggle.

 

Atacinus saw that this was simply an attack; and when he saw it he was

frightened. It was known to all that Cæsar with a crowd of attendants

made attacks frequently for amusement in the Subura and in other parts

of the city. It was known that even at times he brought out of these

night adventures black and blue spots; but whoso defended himself went

to his death, even if a senator. The house of the guards, whose duty it

was to watch over the city, was not very far; but during such attacks

the guards feigned to be deaf and blind.

 

Meanwhile there was an uproar around the litter; people struck,

struggled, threw, and trampled one another. The thought flashed on

Atacinus to save Lygia and himself, above all, and leave the rest to

their fate. So, drawing her out of the litter, he took her in his arms

and strove to escape in the darkness.

 

But Lygia called, “Ursus! Ursus!”

 

She was dressed in white; hence it was easy to see her. Atacinus, with

his other arm, which was free, was throwing his own mantle over her

hastily, when terrible claws seized his neck, and on his head a

gigantic, crushing mass fell like a stone.

 

He dropped in one instant, as an ox felled by the back of an axe before

the altar of Jove.

 

The slaves for the greater part were either lying on the ground, or had

saved themselves by scattering in the thick darkness, around the turns

of the walls. On the spot remained only the litter, broken in the

onset. Ursus bore away Lygia to the Subura; his comrades followed him,

dispersing gradually along the way.

 

The slaves assembled before the house of Vinicius, and took counsel.

They had not courage to enter. After a short deliberation they returned

to the place of conflict, where they found a few corpses, and among them

Atacinus. He was quivering yet; but, after a moment of more violent

convulsion, he stretched and was motionless.

 

They took him then, and, returning, stopped before the gate a second

time. But they must declare to their lord what had happened.

 

“Let Gulo declare it,” whispered some voices; “blood is flowing from his

face as from ours; and the master loves him; it is safer for Gulo than

for others.”

 

Gulo, a German, an old slave, who had nursed Vinicius, and was inherited

by him from his mother, the sister of Petronius, said,—

 

“I will tell him; but do ye all come. Do not let his anger fall on my

head alone.”

 

Vinicius was growing thoroughly impatient. Petronius and Chrysothemis

were laughing; but he walked with quick step up and down the atrium.

 

“They ought to be here! They ought to be here!”

 

He wished to go out to meet the litter, but Petronius and Chrysothemis

detained him.

 

Steps were heard suddenly in the entrance; the slaves rushed into the

atrium in a crowd, and, halting quickly at the wall, raised their hands,

and began to repeat with groaning,—“Aaaa!—aa!”

 

Vinicius sprang toward them.

 

“Where is Lygia?” cried he, with a terrible and changed voice.

 

“Aaaa!”

 

Then Gulo pushed forward with his bloody face, and exclaimed, in haste

and pitifully,—

 

“See our blood, lord! We fought! See our blood! See our blood!”

 

But he had not finished when Vinicius seized a bronze lamp, and with one

blow shattered the skull of the slave; then, seizing his own head with

both hands, he drove his fingers into his hair, repeating hoarsely,—“Me

miserum! me miserum!”

 

His face became blue, his eyes turned in his head, foam came out on his

lips.

 

“Whips!” roared he at last, with an unearthly voice.

 

“Lord! Aaaa! Take pity!” groaned the slaves.

 

Petronius stood up with an expression of disgust on his face. “Come,

Chrysothemis!” said he. “If ‘tis thy wish to look on raw flesh, I will

give command to open a butcher’s stall on the Carinæ!”

 

And he walked out of the atrium. But through the whole house,

ornamented in the green of ivy and prepared for a feast, were heard,

from moment to moment, groans and the whistling of whips, which lasted

almost till morning.