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Read books online » Fiction » Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (detective books to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (detective books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Henryk Sienkiewicz



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me, and gave Cæsar the idea of demanding thee as a hostage and

giving thee to me. How often in my sorrow have I cursed him; but

perhaps fate ordained thus, for otherwise I should not have known the

Christians, and should not have understood thee.”

 

“Believe me, Marcus,” replied Lygia, “it was Christ who led thee to

Himself by design.”

 

Vinicius raised his head with a certain astonishment.

 

“True,” answered he, with animation. “Everything fixed itself so

marvellously that in seeking thee I met the Christians. In Ostrianum I

listened to the Apostle with wonder, for I had never heard such words.

And there thou didst pray for me?”

 

“I did,” answered Lygia.

 

They passed near the summer-house covered with thick ivy, and approached

the place where Ursus, after stifling Croton, threw himself upon

Vinicius.

 

“Here,” said the young man, “I should have perished but for thee.”

 

“Do not mention that,” answered Lygia, “and do not speak of it to

Ursus.”

 

“Could I be revenged on him for defending thee? Had he been a slave, I

should have given him freedom straightway.”

 

“Had he been a slave, Aulus would have freed him long ago.”

 

“Dost thou remember,” asked Vinicius, “that I wished to take thee back

to Aulus, but the answer was, that Cæsar might hear of it and take

revenge on Aulus and Pomponia? Think of this: thou mayst see them now

as often as thou wishest.”

 

“How, Marcus?”

 

“I say ‘now,’ and I think that thou wilt be able to see them without

danger, when thou art mine. For should Cæsar hear of this, and ask what

I did with the hostage whom he gave me, I should say ‘I married her, and

she visits the house of Aulus with my consent.’ He will not remain long

in Antium, for he wishes to go to Achæa; and even should he remain, I

shall not need to see him daily. When Paul of Tarsus teaches me your

faith, I will receive baptism at once, I will come here, gain the

friendship of Aulus and Pomponia, who will return to the city by that

time, and there will be no further hindrance, I will seat thee at my

hearth. Oh, carissima! carissima!”

 

And he stretched forth his hand, as if taking Heaven as witness of his

love; and Lygia, raising her clear eyes to him, said,—

 

“And then I shall say, ‘Wherever thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.’”

 

“No, Lygia,” cried Vinicius, “I swear to thee that never has woman been

so honored in the house of her husband as thou shalt be in mine.”

 

For a time they walked on in silence, without being able to take in with

their breasts their happiness, in love with each other, like two

deities, and as beautiful as if spring had given them to the world with

the flowers.

 

They halted at last under the cypress growing near the entrance of the

house. Lygia leaned against his breast, and Vinicius began to entreat

again with a trembling voice,—“Tell Ursus to go to the house of Aulus

for thy furniture and playthings of childhood.”

 

But she, blushing like a rose or like the dawn, answered,—“Custom

commands otherwise.”

 

“I know that. The pronuba [The matron who accompanies the bride and

explains to her the duties of a wife] usually brings them behind the

bride, but do this for me. I will take them to my villa in Antium, and

they will remind me of thee.”

 

Here he placed his hands together and repeated, like a child who is

begging for something,—“It will be some days before Pomponia returns;

so do this, diva, do this, carissima.”

 

“But Pomponia will do as she likes,” answered Lygia, blushing still more

deeply at mention of the pronuba.

 

And again they were silent, for love had begun to stop the breath in

their breasts. Lygia stood with shoulders leaning against the cypress,

her face whitening in the shadow, like a flower, her eyes drooping, her

bosom heaving with more and more life. Vinicius changed in the face,

and grew pale. In the silence of the afternoon they only heard the

beating of their hearts, and in their mutual ecstasy that cypress, the

myrtle bushes, and the ivy of the summer-house became for them a

paradise of love. But Miriam appeared in the door, and invited them to

the afternoon meal. They sat down then with the Apostles, who gazed at

them with pleasure, as on the young generation which after their death

would preserve and sow still further the seed of the new faith. Peter

broke and blessed bread. There was calm on all faces, and a certain

immense happiness seemed to overflow the whole house.

 

“See,” said Paul at last, turning to Vinicius, “are we enemies of life

and happiness?”

 

“I know how that is,” answered Vinicius, “for never have I been so happy

as among you.”

Chapter XXXV

ON the evening of that day Vinicius, while returning home through the

Forum, saw at the entrance to the Vicus Tuscus the gilded litter of

Petronius, carried by eight stalwart Bithynians, and, stopping it with a

sign of his hand, he approached the curtains.

 

“Thou hast had a pleasant dream, I trust, and a happy one!” cried he,

laughing at sight of the slumbering Petronius.

 

“Oh, is it thou?” said Petronius, waking up. “Yes; I dropped asleep for

a moment, as I passed the night at the Palatine. I have come out to buy

something to read on the road to Antium. What is the news?”

 

“Art thou visiting the book-shops?” inquired Vinicius.

 

“Yes, I do not like to bring disorder into my library, so I am

collecting a special supply for the journey. It is likely that some new

things of Musonius and Seneca have come out. I am looking also for

Persius, and a certain edition of the Eclogues of Vergilius, which I do

not possess. Oh, how tired I am; and how my hands ache from covers and

rings! For when a man is once in a book-shop curiosity seizes him to

look here and there. I was at the shop of Avirnus, and at that of

Atractus on the Argiletum, and with the Sozii on Vicus Sandalarius. By

Castor! how I want to sleep!”

 

“Thou wert on the Palatine? Then I would ask thee what is it to be

heard there? Or, knowest what?—send home the litter and the tubes with

books, and come to my house. We will talk of Antium, and of something

else.”

 

“That is well,” answered Petronius, coming out of the litter. “Thou

must know, besides, that we start for Antium the day after tomorrow.”

 

“Whence should I know that?”

 

“In what world art thou living? Well, I shall be the first to announce

the news to thee. Yes; be ready for the day after tomorrow in the

morning. Peas in olive oil have not helped, a cloth around his thick

neck has not helped, and Bronzebeard is hoarse. In view of this, delay

is not to be mentioned. He curses Rome and its atmosphere, with what

the world stands on; he would be glad to level it to the earth or to

destroy it with fire, and he longs for the sea at the earliest. He says

that the smells which the wind brings from the narrow streets are

driving him into the grave. To-day great sacrifices were offered in all

the temples to restore his voice; and woe to Rome, but especially to the

Senate, should it not return quickly!”

 

“Then there would be no reason for his visit to Achæa?”

 

“But is that the only talent possessed by our divine Cæsar?” asked

Petronius, smiling. “He would appear in the Olympic games, as a poet,

with his ‘Burning of Troy’; as a charioteer, as a musician, as an

athlete,—nay, even as a dancer, and would receive in every case all the

crowns intended for victors. Dost know why that monkey grew hoarse?

Yesterday he wanted to equal our Paris in dancing, and danced for us the

adventures of Leda, during which he sweated and caught cold. He was as

wet and slippery as an eel freshly taken from water. He changed masks

one after another, whirled like a spindle, waved his hands like a

drunken sailor, till disgust seized me while looking at that great

stomach and those slim legs. Paris taught him during two weeks; but

imagine to thyself Ahenobarbus as Leda or as the divine swan. That was a

swan!—there is no use in denying it. But he wants to appear before the

public in that pantomime,—first in Antium, and then in Rome.”

 

“People are offended already because he sang in public; but to think

that a Roman Cæsar will appear as a mime! No; even Rome will not endure

that!”

 

“My dear friend, Rome will endure anything; the Senate will pass a vote

of thanks to the ‘Father of his country.’ And the rabble will be elated

because Cæsar is its buffoon.”

 

“Say thyself, is it possible to be more debased?”

 

Petronius shrugged his shoulders. “Thou art living by thyself at home,

and meditating, now about Lygia, now about Christians, so thou knowest

not, perhaps, what happened two days since. Nero married, in public,

Pythagoras, who appeared as a bride. That passed the measure of

madness, it would seem, would it not? And what wilt thou say? the

flamens, who were summoned, came and performed the ceremony with

solemnity. I was present. I can endure much; still I thought, I

confess, that the gods, if there be any, should give a sign. But Cæsar

does not believe in the gods, and he is right.”

 

“So he is in one person chief priest, a god, and an atheist,” said

Vinicius.

 

“True,” said Petronius, beginning to laugh. “That had not entered my

head; but the combination is such as the world has not seen.” Then,

stopping a moment, he said: “One should add that this chief priest who

does not believe in the gods, and this god who reviles the gods, fears

them in his character of atheist.”

 

“The proof of this is what happened in the temple of Vesta.” “What a

society!”

 

“As the society is, so is Cæsar. But this will not last long.”

 

Thus conversing, they entered the house of Vinicius, who called for

supper joyously; then, turning to Petronius he said,—“No, my dear,

society must be renewed.”

 

“We shall not renew it,” answered Petronius, “even for the reason that

in Nero’s time man is like a butterfly,—he lives in the sunshine of

favor, and at the first cold wind he perishes, even against his will.

By the son of Maia! more than once have I given myself this question: By

what miracle has such a man as Lucius Saturninus been able to reach the

age of ninety-three, to survive Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius? But never

mind. Wilt thou permit me to send thy litter for Eunice? My wish to

sleep has gone, somehow, and I should like to be joyous. Give command

to cithara players to come to the supper, and afterward we will talk of

Antium. It is needful to think of it, especially for thee.”

 

Vinicius gave the order to send for Eunice, but declared that he had no

thought of breaking his head over the stay in Antium.

 

“Let those break their heads who cannot live otherwise than in the rays

of Cæsar’s favor. The world does not end on the Palatine, especially

for those who have something else in their hearts and souls.”

 

He said this so carelessly and with such animation and gladness that his

whole manner struck

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