Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz (good ebook reader txt) 📖

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 Petronius; hence, looking for a time at him, he asked,—“What is taking place in thee? Thou art to-day as thou wert when wearing the golden bulla on thy neck.”

“I am happy,” answered Vinicius. “I have invited thee purposely to tell thee so.”

“What has happened?”

“Something which I would not give for the Roman Empire.”

Then he sat down, and, leaning on the arm of the chair, rested his head on his hand, and asked,—“Dost remember how we were at the house of Aulus Plautius, and there thou didst see for the first time the godlike maiden called by thee ‘the dawn and the spring’? Dost remember that Psyche, that incomparable, that one more beautiful than our maidens and our goddesses?”

Petronius looked at him with astonishment, as if he wished to make sure that his head was right.

“Of whom art thou speaking?” asked he at last. “Evidently I remember Lygia.”

“I am her betrothed.”

“What!”

But Vinicius sprang up and called his dispensator.

“Let the slaves stand before me to the last soul, quickly!”

“Art thou her betrothed?” repeated Petronius.

But before he recovered from his astonishment the immense atrium was swarming with people. Panting old men ran in, men in the vigor of life, women, boys, and girls. With each moment the atrium was filled more and more; in corridors, called “fauces,” voices were heard calling in various languages. Finally, all took their places in rows at the walls and among the columns. Vinicius, standing near the impluvium, turned to Demas, the freedman, and said,—

“Those who have served twenty years in my house are to appear tomorrow before the pretor, where they will receive freedom; those who have not served out the time will receive three pieces of gold and double rations for a week. Send an order to the village prisons to remit punishment, strike the fetters from people’s feet, and feed them sufficiently. Know that a happy day has come to me, and I wish rejoicing in the house.”

For a moment they stood in silence, as if not believing their ears; then all hands were raised at once, and all mouths cried,—“A-a! lord! a-a-a!”

Vinicius dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Though they desired to thank him and to fall at his feet, they went away hurriedly, filling the house with happiness from cellar to roof.

“To-morrow,” said Vinicius, “I will command them to meet again in the garden, and to make such signs on the ground as they choose. Lygia will free those who draw a fish.”

Petronius, who never wondered long at anything, had grown indifferent, and asked,—“A fish, is it? Ah, ha! According to Chilo, that is the sign of a Christian, I remember.” Then he extended his hand to Vinicius, and said: “Happiness is always where a man sees it. May Flora strew flowers under thy feet for long years. I wish thee everything which thou wishest thyself.”

“I thank thee, for I thought that thou wouldst dissuade me, and that, as thou seest, would be time lost.”

“I? Dissuade? By no means. On the contrary, I tell thee that thou art doing well.”

“Ha, traitor!” answered Vinicius, joyfully; “hast forgotten what thou didst tell me once when we were leaving the house of Pomponia Græcina?”

“No,” answered Petronius, with cool blood; “but I have changed my opinion. My dear,” added he after a while, “in Rome everything changes. Husbands change wives, wives change husbands; why should not I change opinions? It lacked little of Nero’s marrying Acte, whom for his sake they represented as the descendant of a kingly line. Well, he would have had an honest wife, and we an honest Augusta. By Proteus and his barren spaces in the sea! I shall change my opinion as often as I find it appropriate or profitable. As to Lygia, her royal descent is more certain than Acte’s. But in Antium be on thy guard against Poppæa, who is revengeful.”

“I do not think of doing so. A hair will not fall from my head in Antium.”

“If thou think to astonish me a second time, thou art mistaken; but whence hast thou that certainty?”

“The Apostle Peter told me so.”

“Ah, the Apostle Peter told thee! Against that there is no argument; permit me, however, to take certain measures of precaution even to this end, that the Apostle Peter may not turn out a false prophet; for, should the Apostle be mistaken, perchance he might lose thy confidence, which certainly will be of use to him in the future.”

“Do what may please thee, but I believe him. And if thou think to turn me against him by repeating his name with irony, thou art mistaken.”

“But one question more. Hast thou become a Christian?”

“Not yet; but Paul of Tarsus will travel with me to explain the teachings of Christ, and afterward I will receive baptism; for thy statement that they are enemies of life and pleasantness is not true.”

“All the better for thee and Lygia,” answered Petronius; then, shrugging his shoulders, he said, as if to himself, “But it is astonishing how skilled those people are in gaining adherents, and how that sect is extending.”

“Yes,” answered Vinicius, with as much warmth as if he had been baptized already; “there are thousands and tens of thousands of them in Rome, in the cities of Italy, in Greece and Asia. There are Christians among the legions and among the pretorians; they are in the palace of Cæsar itself. Slaves and citizens, poor and rich, plebeian and patrician, confess that faith. Dost thou know that the Cornelii are Christians, that Pomponia Græcina is a Christian, that likely Octavia was, and Acte is? Yes, that teaching will embrace the world, and it alone is able to renew it. Do not shrug thy shoulders, for who knows whether in a month or a year thou wilt not receive it thyself?”

“I?” said Petronius. “No, by the son of Leto! I will not receive it; even if the truth and wisdom of gods and men were contained in it. That would require labor, and I have no fondness for labor. Labor demands self-denial, and I will not deny myself anything. With thy nature, which is like fire and boiling water, something like this may happen any time. But I? I have my gems, my cameos, my vases, my Eunice. I do not believe in Olympus, but I arrange it on earth for myself; and I shall flourish till the arrows of the divine archer pierce me, or till Cæsar commands me to open my veins. I love the odor of violets too much, and a comfortable triclinium. I love even our gods, as rhetorical figures, and Achæa, to which I am preparing to go