Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz (good novels to read .TXT) 📗

“I know the baker Demas,” said Quartus, “in whose mills slaves and hired men are employed. One of those hired men is so strong that he would take the place, not of two, but of four. I myself have seen him lift stones from the ground which four men could not stir.”

“If that is a God-fearing man, who can sacrifice himself for the brotherhood, make me acquainted with him,” said Chilo.

“He is a Christian, lord,” answered Quartus; “nearly all who work for Demas are Christians. He has night as well as day laborers; this man is of the night laborers. Were we to go now to the mill, we should find them at supper, and thou mightest speak to him freely. Demas lives near the Emporium.”

Chilo consented most willingly. The Emporium was at the foot of the Aventine, hence not very far from the Circus Maximus. It was possible, without going around the hill, to pass along the river through the Porticus Æmilia, which would shorten the road considerably.

“I am old,” said Chilo, when they went under the Colonnade; “at times I suffer effacement of memory. Yes, though our Christ was betrayed by one of his disciples, the name of the traitor I cannot recall at this moment—”

“Judas, lord, who hanged himself,” answered Quartus, wondering a little in his soul how it was possible to forget that name.

“Oh, yes—Judas! I thank thee,” said Chilo.

And they went on some time in silence. When they came to the Emporium, which was closed, they passed it, and going around the storehouse, from which grain was distributed to the populace, they turned toward the left, to houses which stretched along the Via Ostiensis, up to the Mons Testaceus and the Forum Pistorium. There they halted before a wooden building, from the interior of which came the noise of millstones. Quartus went in; but Chilo, who did not like to show himself to large numbers of people, and was in continual dread that some fate might bring him to meet Glaucus, remained outside.

“I am curious about that Hercules who serves in a mill,” said he to himself, looking at the brightly shining moon. “If he is a scoundrel and a wise man, he will cost me something; if a virtuous Christian and dull, he will do what I want without money.”

Further meditation was interrupted by the return of Quartus, who issued from the building with a second man, wearing only a tunic called “exomis,” cut in such fashion that the right arm and right breast were exposed. Such garments, since they left perfect freedom of movement, were used especially by laborers. Chilo, when he saw the man coming, drew a breath of satisfaction, for he had not seen in his life such an arm and such a breast.

“Here, lord,” said Quartus, “is the brother whom it was thy wish to see.”

“May the peace of Christ be with thee!” answered Chilo. “Do thou, Quartus, tell this brother whether I deserve faith and trust, and then return in the name of God; for there is no need that thy gray-haired father should be left in loneliness.”

“This is a holy man,” said Quartus, “who gave all his property to redeem me from slavery,—me, a man unknown to him. May our Lord the Saviour prepare him a heavenly reward therefor!”

The gigantic laborer, hearing this, bent down and kissed Chilo’s hand.

“What is thy name, brother?” inquired the Greek.

“At holy baptism, father, the name Urban was given me.”

“Urban, my brother, hast thou time to talk with me freely?”

“Our work begins at midnight, and only now are they preparing our supper.”

“Then there is time sufficient. Let us go to the river; there thou wilt hear my words.”

They went, and sat on the embankment, in a silence broken only by the distant sound of the millstones and the plash of the onflowing river. Chilo looked into the face of the laborer, which, notwithstanding a somewhat severe and sad expression, such as was usual on faces of barbarians living in Rome, seemed to him kind and honest.

“This is a good-natured, dull man who will kill Glaucus for nothing,” thought Chilo.

“Urban,” inquired he then, “dost thou love Christ?”

“I love him from the soul of my heart,” said the laborer.

“And thy brethren and sisters, and those who taught thee truth and faith in Christ?”

“I love them, too, father.”

“Then may peace be with thee!”

“And with thee, father!”

Again silence set in, but in the distance the millstones were roaring, and the river was plashing below the two men.

Chilo looked with fixed gaze into the clear moonlight, and with a slow, restrained voice began to speak of Christ’s death. He seemed not as speaking to Urban, but as if recalling to himself that death, or some secret which he was confiding to the drowsy city. There was in this, too, something touching as well as impressive. The laborer wept; and when Chilo began to groan and complain that in the moment of the Saviour’s passion there was no one to defend him, if not from crucifixion, at least from the insults of Jews and soldiers, the gigantic fists of the barbarian began to squeeze from pity and suppressed rage. The death only moved him; but at thought of that rabble reviling the Lamb nailed to the cross, the simple soul in him was indignant, and a wild desire of vengeance seized the man.

“Urban, dost thou know who Judas was?” asked Chilo, suddenly.

“I know, I know!—but he hanged himself!” exclaimed the laborer.

And in his voice there was a kind of sorrow that the traitor had meted out punishment to himself, and that Judas could not fall into his hands.

“But if he had not hanged himself,” continued Chilo, “and if some Christian were to meet him on land or on sea, would it not be the duty of that Christian to take revenge for the torment, the blood, and the death of the Saviour?”

“Who is there who would not take revenge, father?”

“Peace be with thee, faithful servant of the Lamb! True, it is permitted to forgive wrongs done ourselves; but who has the right to forgive a wrong done to God? But as a serpent engenders a serpent, as malice breeds malice, and treason breeds treason, so from the poison of Judas another traitor has come; and as that one delivered to Jews and Roman soldiers the Saviour, so this man who lives among us intends to give Christ’s sheep to the wolves; and if no one will anticipate the treason, if no one will crush the head of the serpent in time, destruction is waiting for us all, and with us will perish the honor of the Lamb.”

The laborer looked at Chilo with immense alarm, as if not understanding what he had heard. But the Greek, covering his head with a corner of his mantle, began to repeat,