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

Is it not time to live as all live? What will Lygia

do later, save to reconcile her fate with the religion which she

professes? That, too, is a question of inferior significance. Those

are matters devoid of importance. First of all, she will be his,—and

his this very day. And it is a question, too, whether that religion

will hold out in her soul against the world which is new to her, against

luxury, and excitements to which she must yield. All may happen to-day.

He needs only to detain Chilo, and give an order at dark. And then

delight without end! “What has my life been?” thought Vinicius;

“suffering, unsatisfied desire, and an endless propounding of problems

without answer.” In this way all will be cut short and ended. He

recollected, it is true, that he had promised not to raise a hand

against her. But by what had he sworn? Not by the gods, for he did not

believe in them; not by Christ, for he did not believe in him yet.

Finally, if she feels injured, he will marry her, and thus repair the

wrong. Yes; to that he feels bound, for to her he is indebted for life.

Here he recalled the day in which with Croton he had attacked her

retreat; he remembered the Lygian’s fist raised above him, and all that

had happened later. He saw her again bent over his couch, dressed in

the garb of a slave, beautiful as a divinity, a benefactress kind and

glorified. His eyes passed to the lararium unconsciously, and to the

little cross which she left him before going. Will he pay for all that

by a new attack? Will he drag her by the hair as a slave to his

cubiculum? And how will he be able to do so, since he not only desires

but loves her, and he loves her specially because she is as she is? All

at once he felt that it was not enough for him to have her in the house,

it was not enough to seize her in his arms by superior force; he felt

that his love needed something more,—her consent, her loves and her

soul. Blessed that roof, if she come under it willingly; blessed the

moment, blessed the day, blessed his life. Then the happiness of both

will be as inexhaustible as the ocean, as the sun. But to seize her by

violence would be to destroy that happiness forever, and at the same

time to destroy, and defile that which is most precious and alone

beloved in life. Terror seized him now at the very thought of this. He

glanced at Chilo, who, while watching him, pushed his hands under his

rags and scratched himself uneasily. That instant, disgust unspeakable

took possession of Vinicius, and a wish to trample that former

assistant of his, as he would a foul worm or venomous serpent. In an

instant he knew what to do. But knowing no measure in anything, and

following the impulse of his stern Roman nature, he turned toward Chilo

and said,—

 

“I will not do what thou advisest, but, lest thou go without just

reward, I will command to give thee three hundred stripes in the

domestic prison.”

 

Chilo grew pale. There was so much cold resolution in the beautiful

face of Vinicius that he could not deceive himself for a moment with the

hope that the promised reward was no more than a cruel jest.

 

Hence he threw himself on his knees in one instant, and bending double

began to groan in a broken voice,—“How, O king of Persia? Why?—O

pyramid of kindness! Colossus of mercy! For what?—I am old, hungry,

unfortunate—I have served thee—dost thou repay in this manner?”

 

“As thou didst the Christians,” said Vinicius. And he called the

dispensator.

 

But Chilo sprang toward his feet, and, embracing them convulsively,

talked, while his face was covered with deathly pallor,—“O lord, O

lord! I am old! Fifty, not three hundred stripes. Fifty are enough!

A hundred, not three hundred! Oh, mercy, mercy!”

 

Vinicius thrust him away with his foot, and gave the order. In the

twinkle of an eye two powerful Quadi followed the dispensator, and,

seizing Chilo by the remnant of his hair, tied his own rags around his

neck and dragged him to the prison.

 

“In the name of Christ!” called the Greek, at the exit of the corridor.

 

Vinicius was left alone. The order just issued roused and enlivened

him. He endeavored to collect his scattered thoughts, and bring them to

order. He felt great relief, and the victory which he had gained over

himself filled him with comfort. He thought that he had made some great

approach toward Lygia, and that some high reward should be given him.

At the first moment it did not even occur to him that he had done a

grievous wrong to Chilo, and had him flogged for the very acts for which

he had rewarded him previously. He was too much of a Roman yet to be

pained by another man’s suffering, and to occupy his attention with one

wretched Greek. Had he even thought of Chilo’s suffering he would have

considered that he had acted properly in giving command to punish such a

villain. But he was thinking of Lygia, and said to her: I will not pay

thee with evil for good; and when thou shalt learn how I acted with him

who strove to persuade me to raise hands against thee, thou wilt be

grateful. But here he stopped at this thought: Would Lygia praise his

treatment of Chilo? The religion which she professes commands

forgiveness; nay, the Christians forgave the villain, though they had

greater reasons for revenge. Then for the first time was heard in his

soul the cry: “In the name of Christ!” He remembered then that Chilo

had ransomed himself from the hands of Ursus with such a cry, and he

determined to remit the remainder of the punishment.

 

With that object he was going to summon the dispensator, when that

person stood before him, and said,—“Lord, the old man has fainted, and

perhaps he is dead. Am I to command further flogging?”

 

“Revive him and bring him before me.”

 

The chief of the atrium vanished behind the curtain, but the revival

could not have been easy, for Vinicius waited a long time and was

growing impatient, when the slaves brought in Chilo, and disappeared at

a signal.

 

Chilo was as pale as linen, and down his legs threads of blood were

flowing to the mosaic pavement of the atrium. He was conscious,

however, and, falling on his knees, began to speak, with extended

hands,—“Thanks to thee, lord. Thou art great and merciful.”

 

“Dog,” said Vinicius, “know that I forgave thee because of that Christ

to whom I owe my own life.”

 

“O lord, I will serve Him and thee.”

 

“Be silent and listen. Rise! Thou wilt go and show me the house in

which Lygia dwells.”

 

Chilo sprang up; but he was barely on his feet when he grew more deathly

pale yet, and said in a failing voice,—“Lord, I am really hungry—I

will go, lord, I will go! but I have not the strength. Command to give

me even remnants from the plate of thy dog, and I will go.”

 

Vinicius commanded to give him food, a piece of gold, and a mantle. But

Chilo, weakened by stripes and hunger, could not go to take food, though

terror raised the hair on his head, lest Vinicius might mistake his

weakness for stubbornness and command to flog him anew.

 

“Only let wine warm me,” repeated he, with chattering teeth, “I shall be

able to go at once, even to Magna Græcia.”

 

He regained some strength after a time, and they went out.

 

The way was long, for, like the majority of Christians, Linus dwelt in

the Trans-Tiber, and not far from Miriam. At last Chilo showed Vinicius

a small house, standing apart, surrounded by a wall covered entirely

with ivy, and said,

 

“Here it is, lord.”

 

“Well,” said Vinicius, “go thy way now, but listen first to what I tell

thee. Forget that thou hast served me; forget where Miriam, Peter, and

Glaucus dwell; forget also this house, and all Christians. Thou wilt

come every month to my house, where Demas, my freedman, will pay thee

two pieces of gold. But shouldst thou spy further after Christians, I

will have thee flogged, or delivered into the hands of the prefect of

the city.”

 

Chilo bowed down, and said,—“I will forget.”

 

But when Vinicius vanished beyond the corner of the street, he stretched

his hands after him, and, threatening with his fists, exclaimed,—“By

Ate and the Furies! I will not forget!”

 

Then he grew faint again.