Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you donât realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (detective books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz
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hostile or sneering words touching thee, I should not have been able to
hide my anger, and should have had to struggle with the wish to break
the head of that wicked, malicious woman with my oar. Thou rememberest
the incident at the pond of Agrippa about which I told thee at the house
of Linus on the eve of my departure. Petronius is alarmed on my
account, and to-day again he implored me not to offend the Augustaâs
vanity. But Petronius does not understand me, and does not realize
that, apart from thee, I know no pleasure or beauty or love, and that
for PoppĂŠa I feel only disgust and contempt. Thou hast changed my soul
greatly,âso greatly that I should not wish now to return to my former
life. But have no fear that harm may reach me here. PoppĂŠa does not
love me, for she cannot love any one, and her desires arise only from
anger at CĂŠsar, who is under her influence yet, and who is even capable
of loving her yet; still, he does not spare her, and does not hide from
her his transgressions and shamelessness.
âI will tell thee, besides, something which should pacify thee. Peter
told me in parting not to fear CĂŠsar, since a hair would not fall from
my head; and I believe him. Some voice in my soul says that every word
of his must be accomplished; that since he blessed our love, neither
CĂŠsar, nor all the powers of Hades, nor predestination itself, could
take thee from me, O Lygia. When I think of this I am as happy as if I
were in heaven, which alone is calm and happy. But what I say of heaven
and predestination may offend thee, a Christian. Christ has not washed
me yet, but my heart is like an empty chalice, which Paul of Tarsus is
to fill with the sweet doctrine professed by thee,âthe sweeter for me
that it is thine. Thou, divine one, count even this as a merit to me
that I have emptied it of the liquid with which I had filled it before,
and that I do not withdraw it, but hold it forth as a thirsty man
standing at a pure spring. Let me find favor in thy eyes.
âIn Antium my days and nights will pass in listening to Paul, who
acquired such influence among my people on the first day that they
surround him continually, seeing in him not only a wonder-worker, but a
being almost supernatural. Yesterday I saw gladness on his face, and
when I asked what he was doing, he answered, âI am sowing!â Petronius
knows that he is among my people, and wishes to see him, as does Seneca
also, who heard of him from Gallo.
âBut the stars are growing pale, O Lygia, and âLuciferâ of the morning
is bright with growing force. Soon the dawn will make the sea ruddy;
all is sleeping round about, but I am thinking of thee and loving thee.
Be greeted together with the morning dawn, sponsa mea!â
VINICIUS to LYGIA:
âHast thou ever been in Antium, my dear one, with Aulus and Pomponia?
If not, I shall be happy when I show this place to thee. All the way
from Laurentum there is a line of villas along the seashore; and Antium
itself is an endless succession of palaces and porticos, whose columns
in fair weather see themselves in the water. I, too, have a residence
here right over the sea, with an olive garden and a forest of cypresses
behind the villa, and when I think that the place will sometime be
thine, its marble seems whiter to me, its groves more shady, and the sea
bluer. Oh, Lygia, how good it is to live and love! Old Menikles, who
manages the villa, planted irises on the ground under myrtles, and at
sight of them the house of Aulus, the impluvium, and the garden in which
I sat near thee, came to my mind. The irises will remind thee, too, of
thy childhoodâs home; therefore I am certain that thou wilt love Antium
and this villa.
âImmediately after our arrival I talked long with Paul at dinner. We
spoke of thee, and afterward he taught. I listened long, and I say only
this, that even could I write like Petronius, I should not have power to
explain everything which passed through my soul and my mind. I had not
supposed that there could be such happiness in this world, such beauty
and peace of which hitherto people had no knowledge. But I retain all
this for conversation with thee, for at the first free moment I shall be
in Rome.
âHow could the earth find place at once for the Apostle Peter, Paul of
Tarsus, and CĂŠsar? Tell me this. I ask because I passed the evening
after Paulâs teaching with Nero, and dost thou know what I heard there?
Well, to begin with, he read his poem on the destruction of Troy, and
complained that never had he seen a burning city. He envied Priam, and
called him happy just for this, that he saw the conflagration and ruin
of his birthplace. Whereupon Tigellinus said, âSpeak a word, O divinity,
I will take a torch, and before the night passes thou shalt see blazing
Antium.â But CĂŠsar called him a fool. âWhere,â asked he, âshould I go to
breathe the sea air, and preserve the voice with which the gods have
gifted me, and which men say I should preserve for the benefit of
mankind? Is it not Rome that injures me; is it not the exhalations of
the Subura and the Esquiline which add to my hoarseness? Would not the
palaces of Rome present a spectacle a hundredfold more tragic and
magnificent than Antium?â Here all began to talk, and to say what an
unheard tragedy the picture of a city like that would be, a city which
had conquered the world turned now into a heap of gray ashes. CĂŠsar
declared that then his poem would surpass the songs of Homer, and he
began to describe how he would rebuild the city, and how coming ages
would admire his achievensents, in presence of which all other human
works would be petty. âDo that! do that!â exclaimed the drunken company.
âI must have more faithful and more devoted friends,â answered he.
âI confess that I was alarmed at once when I heard this, for thou art in
Rome, carissima. I laugh now at that alarm, and I think that CĂŠsar and
his friends, though mad, would not dare to permit such insanity. Still,
see how a man fears for his love; I should prefer that the house of
Linus were not in that narrow Trans-Tiber alley, and in a part occupied
by common people, who are less considered in such a case. For me, the
very palaces on the Palatine would not be a residence fit for thee;
hence I should wish also that nothing were lacking thee of those
ornaments and comforts to which thou art accustomed from childhood.
âGo to the house of Aulus, my Lygia. I have thought much here over this
matter. If CĂŠsar were in Rome, news of thy return might reach the
Palatine through slaves, turn attention to thee, and bring persecution,
because thou didst dare to act against the will of CĂŠsar. But he will
remain long in Antium, and before he returns slaves will have ceased to
speak of thee. Linus and Ursus can be with thee. Besides, I live in
hope that before Palatine sees CĂŠsar, thou, my goddess, shalt be
dwelling in thy own house on the CarinĂŠ. Blessed be the day, hour, and
moment in which thou shalt cross my threshold; and if Christ, whom I am
learning to accept, effects this, may His name be blessed also. I shall
serve Him, and give life and blood for Him. I speak incorrectly; we
shall serve Him, both of us, as long as the threads of life hold.
âI love thee and salute thee with my whole soul.â
Unsus was taking water from a cistern, and while drawing up a double
amphora, with a rope, was singing a strange Lygian song in an undertone,
looking meanwhile with delighted eyes at Lygia and Vinicius, who, among
the cypresses in Linusâs garden, seemed as white as two statues. Their
clothing was not moved by the least breeze. A golden and lily-colored
twilight was sinking on the world while they were conversing in the calm
of evening, each holding the other by the hand.
âMay not some evil meet thee, Marcus, because thou hast left Antium
without CĂŠsarâs knowledge?â asked Lygia.
âNo, my dear,â answered Vinicius. âCĂŠsar announced that he would shut
himself in for two days with Terpnos, and compose new songs. He acts
thus frequently, and at such times neither knows nor remembers aught
else. Moreover, what is CĂŠsar to me since I am near thee and am looking
at thee? I have yearned too much already, and these last nights sleep
has left me. More than once, when I dozed from weariness, I woke on a
sudden, with a feeling that danger was hanging over thee; at times I
dreamed that the relays of horses which were to bear me from Antium to
Rome were stolen,âhorses with which I passed that road more swiftly
than any of CĂŠsarâs couriers. Besides, I could not live longer without
thee; I love thee too much for that, my dearest.â
âI knew that thou wert coming. Twice Ursus ran out, at my request, to
the CarinĂŠ, and inquired for thee at thy house. Linus laughed at me,
and Ursus also.â
It was, indeed, evident that she had expected him; for instead of her
usual dark dress, she wore a soft white stola, out of whose beautiful
folds her arms and head emerged like primroses out of snow. A few ruddy
anemones ornamented her hair.
Vinicius pressed his lips to her hands; then they sat on the stone bench
amidst wild grapevines, and inclining toward each other, were silent,
looking at the twilight whose last gleams were reflected in their eyes.
The charm of the quiet evening mastered them completely.
âHow calm it is here, and how beautiful the world is,â said Vinicius, in
a lowered voice. âThe night is wonderfully still. I feel happier than
ever in life before. Tell me, Lygia, what is this? Never have I
thought that there could be such love. I thought that love was merely
fire in the blood and desire; but now for the first time I see that it
is possible to love with every drop of oneâs blood and every breath, and
feel therewith such sweet and immeasurable calm as if Sleep and Death
had put the soul to rest. For me this is something new. I look on this
calmness of the trees, and it seems to be within me. Now I understand
for the first time that there may be happiness of which people have not
known thus far. Now I begin to understand why thou and Pomponia GrĂŠcina
have such peace. Yes! Christ gives it.â
At that moment Lygia placed her beautiful face on his shoulder and
said,ââMy dear Marcusââ But she was unable to continue. Joy,
gratitude, and the feeling that at last she was free to love deprived
her of voice, and her eyes were filled with tears of emotion.
Vinicius, embracing her slender form with his arm, drew her toward him
and said,ââLygia! May the moment be blessed in which I heard His name
for the first time.â
âI love thee, Marcus,â said she then in a low voice.
Both
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