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

will be told thee

by this man, whose lips are unstained by a lie, for in his mother’s

veins flowed the blood of the chosen people.”

 

Nero turned to Chilo: “Who art thou?”

 

“One who honors thee, O Cyrus; and, besides, a poor Stoic-”

 

“I hate the Stoics,” said Nero. “I hate Thrasea; I hate Musonius and

Cornutus. Their speech is repulsive to me; their contempt for art,

their voluntary squalor and filth.”

 

“O lord, thy master Seneca has one thousand tables of citrus wood. At

thy wish I will have twice as many. I am a Stoic from necessity. Dress

my stoicism, O Radiant One, in a garland of roses, put a pitcher of wine

before it; it will sing Anacreon in such strains as to deafen every

Epicurean.”

 

Nero, who was pleased by the title “Radiant,” smiled and said,-“Thou

dost please me.”

 

“This man is worth his weight in gold!” cried Tigellinus.

 

“Put thy liberality with my weight,” answered Chilo, “or the wind will

blow my reward away.”

 

“He would not outweigh Vitelius,” put in Cæsar.

 

“Eheu! Silver-bowed, my wit is not of lead.”

 

“I see that thy faith does not hinder thee from calling me a god.”

 

“O Immortal! My faith is in thee; the Christians blaspheme against that

faith, and I hate them.”

 

“What dost thou know of the Christians?”

 

“Wilt thou permit me to weep, O divinity?”

 

“No,” answered Nero; “weeping annoys me.”

 

“Thou art triply right, for eyes that have seen thee should be free of

tears forever. O lord, defend me against my enemies.”

 

“Speak of the Christians,” said Poppæa, with a shade of impatience.

 

“It will be at thy command, O Isis,” answered Chilo. “From youth I

devoted myself to philosophy, and sought truth. I sought it among the

ancient divine sages, in the Academy at Athens, and in the Serapeum at

Alexandria. When I heard of the Christians, I judged that they formed

some new school in which I could find certain kernels of truth; and to

my misfortune I made their acquaintance. The first Christian whom evil

fate brought near me was one Glaucus, a physician of Naples. From him I

learned in time that they worship a certain Chrestos, who promised to

exterminate all people and destroy every city on earth, but to spare

them if they helped him to exterminate the children of Deucalion. For

this reason, O lady, they hate men, and poison fountains; for this

reason in their assemblies they shower curses on Rome, and on all

temples in which our gods are honored. Chrestos was crucified; but he

promised that when Rome was destroyed by fire, he would come again and

give Christians dominion over the world.”

 

“People will understand now why Rome was destroyed,” interrupted

Tigellinus.

 

“Many understand that already, O lord, for I go about in the gardens, I

go to the Campus Martius, and teach. But if ye listen to the end, ye

will know my reasons for vengeance. Glaucus the physician did not

reveal to me at first that their religion taught hatred. On the

contrary, he told me that Chrestos was a good divinity, that the basis

of their religion was love. My sensitive heart could not resist such a

truth; hence I took to loving Glaucus, I trusted him, I shared every

morsel of bread with him, every copper coin, and dost thou know, lady,

how he repaid me? On the road from Naples to Rome he thrust a knife

into my body, and my wife, the beautiful and youthful Berenice, he sold

to a slave-merchant. If Sophocles knew my history—but what do I say?

One better than Sophocles is listening.”

 

“Poor man!” said Poppæa.

 

“Whoso has seen the face of Aphrodite is not poor, lady; and I see it at

this moment. But then I sought consolation in philosophy. When I came

to Rome, I tried to meet Christian elders to obtain justice against

Glaucus. I thought that they would force him to yield up my wife. I

became acquainted with their chief priest; I became acquainted with

another, named Paul, who was in prison in this city, but was liberated

afterward; I became acquainted with the son of Zebedee, with Linus and

Clitus and many others. I know where they lived before the fire, I know

where they meet. I can point out one excavation in the Vatican Hill and

a cemetery beyond the Nomentan Gate, where they celebrate their

shameless ceremonies. I saw the Apostle Peter. I saw how Glaucus

killed children, so that the Apostle might have something to sprinkle on

the heads of those present; and I saw Lygia, the foster-child of

Pomponia Græcina, who boasted that though unable to bring the blood of

an infant, she brought the death of an infant, for she bewitched the

little Augusta, thy daughter, O Cyrus, and thine, O Isis!”

 

“Dost hear, Cæsar?” asked Poppæa.

 

“Can that be!” exclaimed Nero.

 

“I could forgive wrongs done myself,” continued Chilo, “but when I heard

of yours, I wanted to stab her. Unfortunately I was stopped by the

noble Vinicius, who loves her.”

 

“Vinicius? But did she not flee from him?”

 

“She fled, but he made search for her; he could not exist without her.

For wretched pay I helped him in the search, and it was I who pointed

out to him the house in which she lived among the Christians in the

Trans-Tiber. We went there together, and with us thy wrestler Croton,

whom the noble Vinicius hired to protect him. But Ursus, Lygia’s slave,

crushed Croton. That is a man of dreadful strength, O Lord, who can

break a bull’s neck as easily as another might a poppy stalk. Aulus and

Pomponia loved him because of that.”

 

“By Hercules,” said Nero, “the mortal who crushed Croton deserves a

statue in the Forum. But, old man, thou art mistaken or art inventing,

for Vinicius killed Croton with a knife.”

 

“That is how people calumniate the gods. O lord, I myself saw Croton’s

ribs breaking in the arms of Ursus, who rushed then on Vinicius and

would have killed him but for Lygia. Vinicius was ill for a long time

after that but they nursed him in the hope that through love he would

become a Christian. In fact, he did become a Christian.”

 

“Vinicius?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And, perhaps, Petronius too?” inquired Tigellinus, hurriedly.

 

Chilo squirmed, rubbed his hands, and said,—

 

“I admire thy penetration, O lord. He may have become one! He may very

well have become one.”

 

“Now I understand why he defended the Christians.”

 

Nero laughed: “Petronius a Christian! Petronius an enemy of life and

luxury! Be not foolish; do not ask me to believe that, since I am ready

not to believe anything.”

 

“But the noble Vinicius became a Christian, lord. I swear by that

radiance which comes from thee that I speak the truth, and that nothing

pierces me with such disgust as lying. Pomponia Græcina is a Christian,

little Aulus is a Christian, Lygia is a Christian, and so is Vinicius.

I served him faithfully, and in return, at the desire of Glaucus the

physician, he gave command to flog me, though I am old and was sick and

hungry. And I have sworn by Hades that I will not forget that for him.

O lord, avenge my wrongs on them, and I will deliver to thee Peter the

Apostle and Linus and Clitus and Glaucus and Crispus, the highest ones,

and Lygia and Ursus. I will point out hundreds of them to you,

thousands; I will indicate their houses of prayer, the cemeteries, all

thy prisons will not hold them! Without me ye could not find them. In

misfortunes I have sought consolation; hitherto in philosophy alone, now

I will find it in favors that will descend on me. I am old, and have

not known life; let me begin.”

 

“It is thy wish to be a Stoic before a full plate,” said Nero.

 

“Whoso renders service to thee will fill it by that same.”

 

“Thou art not mistaken, O philosopher.”

 

But Poppæa did not forget her enemies. Her fancy for Vinicius was,

indeed, rather a momentary whim, which had risen under the influence of

jealousy, anger, and wounded vanity. Still the coolness of the young

patrician touched her deeply, and filled her heart with a stubborn

feeling of offence. This alone, that he had dared to prefer another,

seemed to her a crime calling for vengeance. As to Lygia, she hated her

from the first moment, when the beauty of that northern lily alarmed

her. Petronius, who spoke of the too narrow hips of the girl, might

talk what he pleased into Cæsar, but not into the Augusta. Poppæa the

critic understood at one cast of the eye that in all Rome Lygia alone

could rival and even surpass her. Thenceforth she vowed her ruin.

 

“Lord,” said she, “avenge our child.”

 

“Hasten!” cried Chilo, “hasten! Otherwise Vinicius will hide her. I

will point out the house to which she returned after the fire.”

 

“I will give thee ten men, and go this moment,” said Tigellinus.

 

“O lord! thou hast not seen Croton in the arms of Ursus; if thou wilt

give fifty men, I will only show the house from a distance. But if ye

will not imprison Vinicius, I am lost.”

 

Tigellinus looked at Nero. “Would it not be well, O divinity, to finish

at once with the uncle and nephew?”

 

Nero thought a moment and answered,—

 

“No, not now. People would not believe us if we tried to persuade them

that Petronius, Vinicius, or Pomponia Græcina had fired Rome. Their

houses were too beautiful. Their turn will come later; to-day other

victims are needed.”

 

“Then, O lord, give me soldiers as a guard,” said Chilo.

 

“See to this, Tigellinus.”

 

“Thou wilt lodge meanwhile with me,” said the prefect to Chilo.

 

Delight beamed from the face of the Greek.

 

“I will give up all! only hasten!—hasten!” cried he, with a hoarse

voice.