Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (detective books to read .TXT) 📖

Chapter LXVII

PETRONIUS, after the liberation of Lygia, not wishing to irritate Cæsar,

went to the Palatine with other Augustians. He wanted to hear what they

were saying, and especially to learn if Tigellinus was devising

something new to destroy Lygia. Both she and Ursus had passed under the

protection of the people, it is true, and no one could place a hand on

them without raising a riot; still Petronius, knowing the hatred toward

him of the all-powerful pretorian prefect, considered that very likely

Tigellinus, while unable to strike him directly, would strive to find

some means of revenge against his nephew.

 

Nero was angry and irritated, since the spectacle had ended quite

differently from what he had planned. At first he did not wish even to

look at Petronius; but the latter, without losing cool blood, approached

him, with all the freedom of the “arbiter elegantiarum,” and said,—

 

“Dost thou know, divinity, what occurs to me? Write a poem on the

maiden who, at command of the lord of the world, was freed from the

horns of the wild bull and given to her lover. The Greeks are

sensitive, and I am sure that the poem will enchant them.”

 

This thought pleased Nero in spite of all his irritation, and it pleased

him doubly, first, as a subject for a poem, and second, because in it he

could glorify himself as the magnanimous lord of the earth; hence he

looked for a time at Petronius, and then said,—

 

“Yes! perhaps thou art right. But does it become me to celebrate my own

goodness?”

 

“There is no need to give names. In Rome all will know who is meant,

and from Rome reports go through the whole world.”

 

“But art thou sure that this will please the people in Achæa?”

 

“By Poilux, it will!” said Petronius.

 

And he went away satisfied, for he felt certain that Nero, whose whole

life was an arrangement of reality to literary plans, would not spoil

the subject, and by this alone he would tie the hands of Tigellinus.

This, however, did not change his plan of sending Vinicius out of Rome

as soon as Lygia’s health should permit. So when he saw him next day,

he said,—

 

“Take her to Sicily. As things have happened, on Cæsar’s part thou art

threatened by nothing; but Tigellinus is ready to use even poison,—if

not out of hatred to you both, out of hatred to me.”

 

Vinicius smiled at him, and said: “She was on the horns of the wild

bull; still Christ saved her.”

 

“Then honor Him with a hecatomb,” replied Petronius, with an accent of

impatience, “but do not beg Him to save her a second time. Dost

remember how Eolus received Ulysses when he returned to ask a second

time for favoring winds? Deities do not like to repeat themselves.”

 

“When her health returns, I will take her to Pomponia Græcina,” said

Vinicius.

 

“And thou wilt do that all the better since Pomponia is ill; Antistius,

a relative of Aulus, told me so. Meanwhile things will happen here to

make people forget thee, and in these times the forgotten are the

happiest. May Fortune be thy sun in winter, and thy shade in summer.”

 

Then he left Vinicius to his happiness, but went himself to inquire of

Theocles touching the life and health of Lygia.

 

Danger threatened her no longer. Emaciated as she was in the dungeon

after prison fever, foul air and discomfort would have killed her; but

now she had the most tender care, and not only plenty, but luxury. At

command of Theocles they took her to the gardens of the villa after two

days; in these gardens she remained for hours. Vinicius decked her

litter with anemones, and especially with irises, to remind her of the

atrium of the house of Aulus. More than once, hidden in the shade of

spreading trees, they spoke of past sufferings and fears, each holding

the other’s hand. Lygia said that Christ had conducted him through

suffering purposely to change his soul and raise it to Himself.

Vinicius felt that this was true, and that there was in him nothing of

the former patrician, who knew no law but his own desire. In those

memories there was nothing bitter, however. It seemed to both that

whole years had gone over their heads, and that the dreadful past lay

far behind. At the same time such a calmness possessed them as they had

never known before. A new life of immense happiness had come and taken

them into itself. In Rome Cæsar might rage and fill the world with

terror—they felt above them a guardianship a hundred times mightier

than his power, and had no further fear of his rage or his malice, just

as if for them he had ceased to be the lord of life or death. Once,

about sunset, the roar of lions and other beasts reached them from

distant vivaria. Formerly those sounds filled Vinicius with fear

because they were ominous; now he and Lygia merely looked at each other

and raised their eyes to the evening twilight. At times Lygia, still

very weak and unable to walk alone, fell asleep in the quiet of the

garden; he watched over her, and, looking at her sleeping face, thought

involuntarily that she was not that Lygia whom he had met at the house

of Aulus. In fact, imprisonment and disease had to some extent quenched

her beauty. When he saw her at the house of Aulus, and later, when he

went to Miriam’s house to seize her, she was as wonderful as a statue

and also as a flower; now her face had become almost transparent, her

hands thin, her body reduced by disease, her lips pale, and even her

eyes seemed less blue than formerly. The golden-haired Eunice who

brought her flowers and rich stuffs to cover her feet was a divinity of

Cyprus in comparison. Petronius tried in vain to find the former charms

in her, and, shrugging his shoulders, thought that that shadow from

Elysian fields was not worth those struggles, those pains, and those

tortures which had almost sucked the life out of Vinicius. But

Vinicius, in love now with her spirit, loved it all the more; and when

he was watching over her while asleep, it seemed to him that he was

watching over the whole world.