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 don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz (good ebook reader txt) 📖
- Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz
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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.
Chapter XXXIII
VINICIUS went directly to the house in which Miriam lived. Before the gate he met Nazarius, who was confused at sight of him; but greeting the lad cordially, he asked to be conducted to his mother’s lodgings.
Besides Miriam, Vinicius found Peter, Glaucus, Crispus, and Paul of Tarsus, who had returned recently from Fregellæ. At sight of the young tribune, astonishment was reflected on all faces; but he said,—“I greet you in the name of Christ, whom ye honor.”
“May His name be glorified forever!” answered they.
“I have seen your virtue and experienced your kindness, hence I come as a friend.”
“And we greet thee as a friend,” answered Peter. “Sit down, lord, and partake of our refreshment, as a guest.”
“I will sit down and share your repast; but first listen to me, thou Peter, and thou Paul of Tarsus, so that ye may know my sincerity. I know where Lygia is. I have returned from before the house of Linus, which is near this dwelling. I have a right to her given me by Cæsar. I have at my houses in the city nearly five hundred slaves. I might surround her hiding-place and seize her; still I have not done so, and will not.”
“For this reason the blessing of the Lord will be upon thee, and thy heart will be purified,” said Peter.
“I thank thee. But listen to me further: I have not done so, though I am living in suffering and sadness. Before I knew you, I should have taken her undoubtedly, and held her by force; but your virtue and your religion, though I do not profess it, have changed something in my soul, so that I do not venture on violence. I know not myself why this is so, but it is so; hence I come to you, for ye take the place of Lygia’s father and mother, and I say to you: Give her to me as wife, and I swear that not only will I not forbid her to confess Christ, but I will begin myself to learn His religion.”
He spoke with head erect and decisively; but still he was moved, and his legs trembled beneath his mantle. When silence followed his words, he continued, as if wishing to anticipate an unfavorable answer,—
“I know what obstacles exist, but I love her as my own eyes; and though I am not a Christian yet, I am neither your enemy nor Christ’s. I wish to be sincere, so that you may trust me. At this moment it is a question of life with me, still I tell you the truth. Another might say, Baptize me; I say, Enlighten me. I believe that Christ rose from the dead, for people say so who love the truth, and who saw Him after death. I believe, for I have seen myself, that your religion produces virtue, justice, and mercy,—not crime, which is laid to your charge. I have not known your religion much so far. A little from you, a little from your works, a little from Lygia, a little from conversations with you. Still I repeat that it has made some change in me. Formerly I held my servants with an iron hand; I cannot do so now. I knew no pity; I know it now. I was fond of pleasure; the other night I fled from the pond of Agrippa, for the breath was taken from me through disgust. Formerly I believed in superior force; now I have abandoned it. Know ye that I do not recognize myself. I am disgusted by feasts, wine, singing, citharæ, garlands, the court of Cæsar, naked bodies, and every crime. When I think that Lygia is like snow in the mountains, I love her the more; and when I think that she is what she is through your religion, I love and desire that religion. But since I understand it not, since I know not whether I shall be able to live according to it, nor whether my nature can endure it, I am in uncertainty and suffering, as if I were in prison.”
Here his brows met in
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