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

Petronius; hence, looking for a time at him, he

asked,—“What is taking place in thee? Thou art to-day as thou wert

when wearing the golden bulla on thy neck.”

 

“I am happy,” answered Vinicius. “I have invited thee purposely to tell

thee so.”

 

“What has happened?”

 

“Something which I would not give for the Roman Empire.”

 

Then he sat down, and, leaning on the arm of the chair, rested his head

on his hand, and asked,—“Dost remember how we were at the house of

Aulus Plautius, and there thou didst see for the first time the godlike

maiden called by thee ‘the dawn and the spring’? Dost remember that

Psyche, that incomparable, that one more beautiful than our maidens and

our goddesses?”

 

Petronius looked at him with astonishment, as if he wished to make sure

that his head was right.

 

“Of whom art thou speaking?” asked he at last. “Evidently I remember

Lygia.”

 

“I am her betrothed.”

 

“What!”

 

But Vinicius sprang up and called his dispensator.

 

“Let the slaves stand before me to the last soul, quickly!”

 

“Art thou her betrothed?” repeated Petronius.

 

But before he recovered from his astonishment the immense atrium was

swarming with people. Panting old men ran in, men in the vigor of life,

women, boys, and girls. With each moment the atrium was filled more and

more; in corridors, called “fauces,” voices were heard calling in

various languages. Finally, all took their places in rows at the walls

and among the columns. Vinicius, standing near the impluvium, turned to

Demas, the freedman, and said,—

 

“Those who have served twenty years in my house are to appear tomorrow

before the pretor, where they will receive freedom; those who have not

served out the time will receive three pieces of gold and double rations

for a week. Send an order to the village prisons to remit punishment,

strike the fetters from people’s feet, and feed them sufficiently. Know

that a happy day has come to me, and I wish rejoicing in the house.”

 

For a moment they stood in silence, as if not believing their ears; then

all hands were raised at once, and all mouths cried,—“A-a! lord! a-a-a!”

 

Vinicius dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Though they desired to

thank him and to fall at his feet, they went away hurriedly, filling the

house with happiness from cellar to roof.

 

“Tomorrow,” said Vinicius, “I will command them to meet again in the

garden, and to make such signs on the ground as they choose. Lygia will

free those who draw a fish.”

 

Petronius, who never wondered long at anything, had grown indifferent,

and asked,—“A fish, is it? Ah, ha! According to Chilo, that is the

sign of a Christian, I remember.” Then he extended his hand to

Vinicius, and said: “Happiness is always where a man sees it. May Flora

strew flowers under thy feet for long years. I wish thee everything

which thou wishest thyself.”

 

“I thank thee, for I thought that thou wouldst dissuade me, and that, as

thou seest, would be time lost.”

 

“I? Dissuade? By no means. On the contrary, I tell thee that thou art

doing well.”

 

“Ha, traitor!” answered Vinicius, joyfully; “hast forgotten what thou

didst tell me once when we were leaving the house of Pomponia Græcina?”

 

“No,” answered Petronius, with cool blood; “but I have changed my

opinion. My dear,” added he after a while, “in Rome everything changes.

Husbands change wives, wives change husbands; why should not I change

opinions? It lacked little of Nero’s marrying Acte, whom for his sake

they represented as the descendant of a kingly line. Well, he would

have had an honest wife, and we an honest Augusta. By Proteus and his

barren spaces in the sea! I shall change my opinion as often as I find

it appropriate or profitable. As to Lygia, her royal descent is more

certain than Acte’s. But in Antium be on thy guard against Poppæa, who

is revengeful.”

 

“I do not think of doing so. A hair will not fall from my head in

Antium.”

 

“If thou think to astonish me a second time, thou art mistaken; but

whence hast thou that certainty?”

 

“The Apostle Peter told me so.”

 

“Ah, the Apostle Peter told thee! Against that there is no argument;

permit me, however, to take certain measures of precaution even to this

end, that the Apostle Peter may not turn out a false phophet; for,

should the Apostle be mistaken, perchance he might lose thy confidence,

which certainly will be of use to him in the future.”

 

“Do what may please thee, but I believe him. And if thou think to turn

me against him by repeating his name with irony, thou art mistaken.”

 

“But one question more. Hast thou become a Christian?”

 

“Not yet; but Paul of Tarsus will travel with me to explain the

teachings of Christ, and afterward I will receive baptism; for thy

statement that they are enemies of life and pleasantness is not true.”

 

“All the better for thee and Lygia,” answered Petronius; then, shrugging

his shoulders, he said, as if to himself, “But it is astonishing how

skilled those people are in gaining adherents, and how that sect is

extending.”

 

“Yes,” answered Vinicius, with as much warmth as if he had been baptized

already; “there are thousands and tens of thousands of them in Rome, in

the cities of Italy, in Grecce and Asia. There are Christians among the

legions and among the pretorians; they are in the palace of Cæsar

itself. Slaves and citizens, poor and rich, plebeian and patrician,

confess that faith. Dost thou know that the Cornelii are Christians,

that Pomponia Græcina is a Christian, that likely Octavia was, and Acte

is? Yes, that teaching will embrace the world, and it alone is able to

renew it. Do not shrug thy shoulders, for who knows whether in a month

or a year thou wilt not receive it thyself?”

 

“I?” said Petronius. “No, by the son of Leto! I will not receive it;

even if the truth and wisdom of gods and men were contained in it. That

would require labor, and I have no fondness for labor. Labor demands

self-denial, and I will not deny myself anything. With thy nature,

which is like fire and boiling water, something like this may happen any

time. But I? I have my gems, my cameos, my vases, my Eunice. I do not

believe in Olympus, but I arrange it on earth for myself; and I shall

flourish till the arrows of the divine archer pierce me, or till Cæsar

commands me to open my veins. I love the odor of violets too much, and

a comfortable triclinium. I love even our gods, as rhetorical figures,

and Achæa, to which I am preparing to go with our fat, thin-legged,

incomparable, godlike Cæsar, the august period-compelling Hercules,

Nero.”

 

Then he was joyous at the very supposition that he could accept the

teaching of Galilean fishermen, and began to sing in an undertone,—

 

“I will entwine my bright sword in myrtle, After the example of

Harmodius and Aristogiton.”

 

But he stopped, for the arrival of Eunice was announced. Immediately

after her coming supper was served, during which songs were sung by the

cithara players; Vinicius told of Chilo’s visit, and also how that visit

had given the idea of going to the Apostles directly,—an idea which

came to him while they were flogging Chilo.

 

At mention of this, Petronius, who began to be drowsy, placed his hand

on his forehead, and said,—“The thought was good, since the object was

good. But as to Chilo, I should have given him five pieces of gold; but

as it was thy will to flog him, it was better to flog him, for who knows

but in time senators will bow to him, as to-day they are bowing to our

cobbler-knight, Vatinius. Good-night.”

 

And, removing his wreath, he, with Eunice, prepared for home. When they

had gone, Vinicius went to his library and wrote to Lygia as follows:—

 

“When thou openest thy beautiful eyes, I wish this letter to say

Good-day! to thee. Hence I write now, though I shall see thee tomorrow.

Cæsar will go to Antium after tomorrow,—and I, eheu! must go with him.

I have told thee already that not to obey would be to risk life—and at

present I could not find courage to die. But if thou wish me not to go,

write one word, and I will stay. Petronius will turn away danger from

me with a speech. To-day, in the hour of my delight, I gave rewards to

all my slaves; those who have served in the house twenty years I shall

take to the pretor tomorrow and free. Thou, my dear, shouldst praise

me, since this act as I think will be in accord with that mild religion

of thine; secondly, I do this for thy sake. They are to thank thee for

their freedom. I shall tell them so tomorrow, so that they may be

grateful to thee and praise thy name. I give myself in bondage to

happiness and thee. God grant that I never see liberation. May Antium

be cursed, and the journey of Ahenobarbus! Thrice and four times happy

am I in not being so wise as Petronius; if I were, I should be forced to

go to Greece perhaps. Meanwhile the moment of separation will sweeten

my memory of thee. Whenever I can tear myself away, I shall sit on a

horse, and rush back to Rome, to gladden my eyes with sight of thee, and

my ears with thy voice. When I cannot come I shall send a slave with a

letter, and an inquiry about thee. I salute thee, divine one, and

embrace thy feet. Be not angry that I call thee divine. If thou

forbid, I shall obey, but to-day I cannot call thee otherwise. I

congratulate thee on thy future house with my whole soul.”