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

perish, and the world-ruling city be swept from the face of the

earth with its inhabitants. Even in captured places, where fire and

slaughter rage together, some people survive in all cases; why, then,

should Lygia perish of a certainty? On the contrary, God watches over

her, He who Himself, conquered death.” Thus reasoning, he began to pray

again, and, yielding to fixed habit, he made great vows to Christ, with

promises of gifts and sacrifices. After he had hurried through Albanum,

nearly all of whose inhabitants were on roofs and on trees to look at

Rome, he grew somewhat calm, and regained his cool blood. He

remembered, too, that Lygia was protected not only by Ursus and Linus,

but by the Apostle Peter. At the mere remembrance of this, fresh solace

entered his heart. For him Peter was an incomprehensible, an almost

superhuman being. From the time when he heard him at Ostrianum, a

wonderful impression clung to him, touching which he had written to

Lygia at the beginning of his stay in Antium,—that every word of the

old man was true, or would show its truth hereafter. The nearer

acquaintance which during his illness he had formed with the Apostle

heightened the impression, which was turned afterward into fixed faith.

Since Peter had blessed his love and promised him Lygia, Lygia could not

perish in the flames. The city might burn, but no spark from the fire

would fall on her garments. Under the influence of a sleepless night,

mad riding, and impressions, a wonderful exaltation possessed the young

tribune; in this exaltation all things seemed possible: Peter speaks to

the flame, opens it with a word, and they pass uninjured through an

alley of fire. Moreover, Peter saw future events; hence, beyond doubt,

he foresaw the fire, and in that ease how could he fail to warn and lead

forth the Christians from the city, and among others Lygia, whom he

loved, as he might his own child? And a hope, which was strengthening

every moment, entered the heart of Vinicius. If they were fleeing from

the city, he might find them in Bovillæ, or meet them on the road. The

beloved face might appear any moment from out the smoke, which was

stretching more widely over all the Campania.

 

This seemed to him more likely, since he met increasing numbers of

people, who had deserted the city and were going to the Alban Hills;

they had escaped the fire, and wished to go beyond the line of smoke.

Before he had reached Ustrinum he had to slacken his pace because of the

throng. Besides pedestrians with bundles on their backs, he met horses

with packs, mules and vehicles laden with effects, and finally litters

in which slaves were bearing the wealthier citizens. Ustrinum was so

thronged with fugitives from Rome that it was difficult to push through

the crowd. On the market square, under temple porticos, and on the

streets were swarms of fugitives. Here and there people were erecting

tents under which whole families were to find shelter. Others settled

down under the naked sky, shouting, calling on the gods, or cursing the

fates. In the general terror it was difficult to inquire about

anything. People to whom Vinicius applied either did not answer, or

with eyes half bewildered from terror answered that the city and the

world were perishing. New crowds of men, women, and children arrived

from the direction of Rome every moment; these increased the disorder

and outcry. Some, gone astray in the throng, sought desperately those

whom they had lost; others fought for a camping-place. Half-wild

shepherds from the Campania crowded to the town to hear news, or find

profit in plunder made easy by the uproar. Here and there crowds of

slaves of every nationality and gladiators fell to robbing houses and

villas in the town, and to fighting with the soldiers who appeared in

defence of the citizens.

 

Junius, a senator, whom Vinicius saw at the inn surrounded by a

detachment of Batavian slaves, was the first to give more detailed news

of the conflagration. The fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, in the

part which touches the Palatine and the Cælian Hill, but extended with

incomprehensible rapidity and seized the whole centre of the city.

Never since the time of Brennus had such an awful catastrophe come upon

Rome. “The entire Circus has burnt, as well as the shops and houses

surrounding it,” said Junius; “the Aventine and Cælian Hills are on

fire. The flames surrounding the Palatine have reached the Carinæ.”

 

Here Junius, who possessed on the Carinæ a magnificent “insula,” filled

with works of art which he loved, seized a handful of foul dust, and,

scattering it on his head, began to groan despairingly.

 

But Vinicius shook him by the shoulder: “My house too is on the Carinæ,”

said he; “but when everything is perishing, let it perish also.”

 

Then recollecting that at his advice Lygia might have gone to the house

of Aulus, he inquired,—

 

“But the Vicus Patricius?”

 

“On fire!” replied Junius.

 

“The Trans-Tiber?”

 

Junius looked at him with amazement.

 

“Never mind the Trans-Tiber,” said he, pressing his aching temples with

his palms.

 

“The Trans-Tiber is more important to me than all other parts of Rome,”

cried Vinicius, with vehemence.

 

“The way is through the Via Portuensis, near the Aventine; but the heat

will stifle thee. The Trans-Tiber? I know not. The fire had not

reached it; but whether it is not there at this moment the gods alone

know.” Here Junius hesitated a moment, then said in a low voice: “I

know that thou wilt not betray me, so I will tell thee that this is no

common fire. People were not permitted to save the Circus. When houses

began to burn in every direction, I myself heard thousands of voices

exclaiming, ‘Death to those who save!’ Certain people ran through the

city and hurled burning torches into buildings. On the other hand

people are revolting, and crying that the city is burning at command. I

can say nothing more. Woe to the city, woe to us all, and to me! The

tongue of man cannot tell what is happening there. People are perishing

in flames or slaying one another in the throng. This is the end of

Rome!”

 

And again he fell to repeating, “Woe! Woe to the city and to us!”

Vinicius sprang to his horse, and hurried forward along the Appian Way.

But now it was rather a struggling through the midst of a river of

people and vehicles, which was flowing from the city. The city,

embraced by a monstrous conflagration, lay before Vinicius as a thing on

the palm of his hand. From the sea of fire and smoke came a terrible

heat, and the uproar of people could not drown the roar and the hissing

of flames.