Books: Quo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero

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"Ah!" said Chilo, "then is your house in the Trans-Tiber? I have
not been long in Rome, and know not how the different parts are
named. That is true, friend; I was under the gate, and implored
Vinicius in the name of virtue not to enter. I was in Ostrianum, and
dost thou know why? I am working for a certain time over the
conversion of Vinicius, and wished him to hear the chief of the
Apostles. May the light penetrate his soul and thine~ But thou art a
Christian, and wishest truth to overcome falsehood."

"That is true," answered Ursus, with humility.

Courage returned to Chilo completely.

"Vinicius is a powerful lord," said he, "and a friend of Caesar. He
listens often yet to the whisperings of the wil spirit; but if even a
hair should fall from his head, Caesar would take vengeance on all
the Christians."

"A higher power is protecting us."

"Surely, surely! But what do ye intend to do with Vinicius?"
inquired Chio, with fresh alarm.

"I know not. Christ commands mercy."

"Thou hast answered excellently. Think of this always, or thou wilt
fry in hell like a sausage in a frying-pan."

Ursus sighed, and Chilo thought that he could always do what he
liked with that man, who was terrible at the moment of his first
outburst. So, wishing to know what happened at the seizing of
Lygia, he asked further, in the voice of a stern judge, -- "How did
ye treat Croton? Speak, and do not prevaricate." Ursus sighed a
second time. "Vinicius will tell thee." "That means that thou didst
stab him with a knife, or kill him with a club." "I was without
arms."

The Greek could not resist amazement at the superhuman strength
of the barbarian.

"May Pluto--that is to say, may Christ pardon thee!"

They went on for some time in silence; then Chilo said:

"I will not betray thee; but have a care of the watches."

"I fear Christ, not the watches."

"And that is proper. There is no more grievous crime than murder.
I will pray for thee; but I know not if even niy prayer can be
effective, unless thou make a vow never to touch any one in life
with a finger."

"As it is, I have not killed purposely," answered Ursus.

But Chilo, who desired to secure himself in every case, did not
cease to condemn murder, and urge Ursus to make the vow. He
inquired also about Vinicius; but the Lygian answered his inquiries
unwillingly, repeating that from Vinicius himself he would hear
what he needed. Speaking in this way, they passed at last the long
road which separated the lodgings of the Greek from the
Trans-Tiber, and found themselves before the house. Chio's heart
began to beat again unquietly. From dread it seemed to him that
Ursus was beginning to look at him with a kind of greedy
expression.

"It is small consolation to me," said he to himself, "if he kills me
unwillingly. I prefer in every case that paralysis should strike him,
and with him all the Lygians, -- which do thou effect, O Zeus, if
thou art able."

Thus meditating, he wrapped himself more closely in his Gallic
mantle, repeating that he feared the cold. Finally, when they had
passed the entrance and the first court, and found themselves in the
corridor leading to the garden of the little house, he halted
suddenly and said, -- "Let me draw breath, or I shall not be able to
speak with Vinicius and give him saving advice."

He halted; for though he said to himself that no danger threatened,
still his legs trembled under him at the thought that he was among
those mysterious people whom he had seen in Ostrianum.

Meanwhile a hymn came to their ears from the little house.

"What is that?" inquired Chilo.

"Thou sayest that thou art a Christian, and knowest not that among
us it is the custom after every meal to glorify our Saviour with
singing," answered Ursus. "Miriam and her son must have
returned, and perhaps the Apostle is with them, for he visits the
widow and Crispus every day."

"Conduct me directly to Vinicius."

"Vinicius is in the same room with all, for that is the only large
one; the others are very small chambers, to which we go only to
sleep. Come in; thou wilt rest there."

They entered. It was rather dark in the room; the evening was
cloudy and cold, the flames of a few candles did not dispel the
darkness altogether. Vinicius divined rather than recognized Chilo
in the hooded man. Chio, seeing the bed in the corner of the room,
and on it Vinicius, moved toward him directly, not looking at the
others, as if with the conviction that it would be safest near him.

"Oh, lord, why didst thou not listen to my counsels?" exclaimed
he, putting his hands together.

"Silence!" said Vinicius, "and listen!"

Here he looked sharply into Chio's eyes, and spoke slowly with
emphasis, as if wishing the Greek to understand every word of his
as a command, and to keep it forever in memory.

"Croton threw himself on me to kill and rob me, dost understand? I
killed him then, and these people dressed the wounds which I
received in the struggle."

Chilo understood in a moment that if Vinicius spoke in this way it
must be in virtue of some agreement with the Christians, and in
that case he wished people to believe him. He saw this, too, from
his face; hence in one moment, without showing doubt or
astonishment, he raised his eyes and exclaimed, -- "That was a
faith-breaking ruffian! But I warned thee, lord, not to trust him; my
teachings bounded from his head as do peas when thrown against a
wall. In all Hades there are not torments enough for him. He who
cannot be honest must be a rogue; what is more difficult than for a
rogue to become honest? But to fall on his benefactor, a lord so
magnanimous --O gods!"

Here he remembered that he had represented himself to Ursus on
the way as a Christian, and stopped.

"Were it not for the 'sica,' which I brought, he would have slain
me," said Vinicius.

"I bless the moment in which I advised thee to take a knife even."
Vinicius turned an inquiring glance on the Greek, and asked, --
"What hast thou done to-day?"

"How? What! have I not told thee, lord, that I made a vow for thy
health?"

"Nothing more?"

"I was just preparing to visit thee, when this good man came and
said that thou hadst sent for me."

"Here is a tablet. Thou wilt go with it to my house; thou wilt find
my freedman and give it to him. It is written on the tablet that I
have gone to Beneventum. Thou wit tell Demas from thyself that I
went this morning, summoned by an urgent letter from Petronius."
Here he repeated with emphasis: "I have gone to Beneventum, dost
understand?"

"Thou has gone, lord. This morning I took leave of thee at the
Porta Capena, and from the time of thy departure such sadness
possesses me that if thy magnanimity will not soften it, I shall cry
myself to death, like the unhappy wife of Zethos 1 in grief for
Itylos."

Vinicius, though sick and accustomed to the Greek's suppleness,
could not repress a smile. He was glad, moreover, that Chio
understood in a flash; hence he said,-.--

"Therefore I will write that thy tears be wiped away. Give me the
candle." Chilo, now pacified perfectly, rose, and, advancing a few
steps toward the chimney, took one of the candles which was
burning at the wall. But while he was doing this, the hood slipped
from his head, and the light fell directly on his face. Glaucus
sprang from his seat and, coming up quickly, stood before him.

"Dost thou not recognize me, Cephas?" asked he. In his voice there
was something so terrible that a shiver ran through all present.

Chilo raised the candle, and dropped it to the earth almost the
same instant; then he bent nearly double and began to groan, -- "I
am not he--I am not he! Mercy!"

Glaucus turned toward the faithful, and said, -- "This is the man
who betrayed -- who ruined me and my family!"

That history was known to all the Christians and to Vinicius, who
had not guessed who that Glaucus was, -- for this reason only, that
he fainted repeatedly from pain during the dressing of his wound,
and had not heard his name. But for Ursus that short moment, with
the words of Glaucus, was like a lightning-flash in darkness.
Recognizing Chio, he was at his side with one spring, and, seizing
his arm, bent it back, exclaiming, -- "This is the man who
persuaded me to kill Glaucus!"

"Mercy!" groaned Chilo. "I will give you -- O lord!" exclaimed he,
turning his head to Vinicius, "save me! I trusted in thee, take my
part. Thy letter -- I will deliver it. O lord, lord!"

But Vinicius, who looked with more indifference than any one at
what was passing, first because all the affairs of the Greek were
more or less known to him, and second because his heart knew not
what pity was, said, -- "Bury him in the garden; some one else will
take the letter."

It seemed to Chilo that those words were his final sentence. His
bones were shaking in the terrible hands of Ursus; his eyes were
filled with tears from pain.

"By your God, pity!" cried he; "I am a Christian! Par vobiscum! I
am a Christian; and if ye do riot believe me, baptize me again,
baptize me twice, ten times! Glaucus, that is a mistake! Let me
speak, make me a slave! Do not kill me! Have mercy!"

His voice, stifled with pain, was growing weaker and weaker,
when the Apostle Peter rose at the table; for a moment his white
head shook, drooping toward his breast, and his eyes were closed;
but he opened them then, and said amid silence, -- "The Saviour
said this to us: 'If thy brother has sinned against thee, chastise
him; but if he is repentant, forgive him. And if he has offended
seven times in the day against thee, and has turned to thee seven
times, saying, "Have mercy on me!" forgive him.'"

Then came a still deeper silence. Glaucus remained a long time
with his hands covering his face; at last he removed them and said,
-- "Cephas, may God forgive thy offences, as I forgive them in the
name of Christ."

Ursus, letting go the arms of the Greek, added at once:

"May the Saviour be merciful to thee as I forgive thee."

Chilo dropped to the ground, and, supported on it with his hands,
turned his head like a wild beast caught in a snare, looking around
to see whence death might come. He did not trust his eyes and ears
yet, and dared not hope for forgiveness. Consciousness returned to
him slowly; his blue lips were still trembling from terror.

"Depart in peace!" said the Apostle, meanwhile.

Chilo rose, but could not speak. He approached the bed of
Vinicius,
as if seeking protection in it still; for he had not time yet to think
that that man, though he had used his services and was still his
accomplice, condemned him, while those against whom he had
acted forgave. This thought was to come to him later. At present
simply astonishment and incredulity were evident in his look.
Though he had seen that they forgave him, he wished to bear away
his head at the earliest from among these incomprehensible
people, whose kindness terrified him almost as much as their
cruelty would have terrified. It seemed to him that should he
remain longer, something unexpected would happen again; hence,
standing above Vinicius, he said with a broken voice, -- "Give the
letter, lord,--give the letter!" And snatching the tablet which
Vinicius handed him, he made one obeisance to the Christians,
another to the sick man, pushed along sidewise by the very wall,
and hurried out through the door. In the garden, when darkness
surrounded him, fear raised the hair on his head again, for he felt
sure that Ursus would rush out and kill him in the night. He would
have run with all his might, but his legs would not move; next
moment they were perfectly uncontrollable, for Ursus stood near
him really.

Chilo fell with his face to the earth, and began to groan: "Urban --
in Christ's name" -- But Urban said: "Fear not. The Apostle
commanded me to lead thee out beyond the gate, lest thou might
go astray in the darkness, and, if strength failed thee, to conduct
thee home."

"What dost thou say?" asked Chilo, raising his face. "What? Thou
wilt not kill me?"

"No, I will not; and if I seized thee too roughly and harmed a bone
in thee, pardon me."

"Help me to rise," said the Greek. "Thou wilt not kill me? Thou
wilt not? Take me to the Street; I will go farther alone."

Ursus raised him as he might a feather, and placed him on his feet;
then he conducted him through the dark corridor to the second
court. From there was a passage to the entrance and the street. In
the corridor Chilo repeated again in his soul, "It is all over with
me!" Only when he found himself on the street did he recover and
say, "I can go on alone."

"Peace be with thee."

"And with thee! and with thee! Let me draw breath."

And after Ursus had gone, he breathed with a full breast. He felt
his waist and hips, as if to convince himself that he was living, and
then moved forward with hurried step.

"But why did they not kill me?" And in spite of all his talk with
Euricius about Christian teaching, in spite of his conversation at
the river with Urban, and in spite of all that he had heard in
Ostrianum, he could find no answer to that question.

1 Aedon turned into a nightingale.

Chapter XXV

NEITHER could Vinicius discover the cause of what had
happened; and in the bottom of his soul he was almost as much
astonishe& as Chio. That those people should treat him as they
had, and, instead of avenging his attack, dress his wounds
carefully, he ascribed partly to the doctrine which they confessed,
more to Lygia, and a little, also, to his great significance. But their
conduct with Chilo simply went beyond his understanding of man's
power of forgiveness. And the question thrust itself into his mind:
Why did they not kill the Greek? They might have killed him with
impunity. Ursus would have buried him in the garden, or borne
him in the dark to the Tiber, which during that period of
night-murders, committed by Caesar himself even, cast up human
bodies so frequently in the morning that no one inquired whence
they came. To his thinking, the Christians had not only the power,
but the right to kill Chio. True, pity was not entirely a stranger to
that world to which the young patrician belonged. The Athenians
raised an altar to pity, and opposed for a long time the introduction
of gladiatorial combats into Athens. In Rome itself the conquered
received pardon sometimes, as, for in-stance, Calicratus, king of
the Britons, who, taken prisoner in the time of Claudius, and
provided for by him bountifully, dwelt in the city in freedom. But
vengeance for a personal wrong seemed to Vinicius, as to all,
proper and justified. The neglect of it was entirely opposed to his
spirit. True, he had heard in Ostrianum that one should love even
enemies; that, however, he considered as a kind of theory without
application in life. And now this passed through his head: that
perhaps they had not killed Chilo because the day was among
festivals, or was in some period of the moon during which it was
not proper for Christians to kill a man. He had heard that there are
days among various nations on which it is not permitted to begin
war even. But why, in such a case, did they not deliver the Greek
up to justice? Why did the Apostle say that if a man offended
seven times, it was necessary to forgive him seven times; and why
did Glaucus say to Chio, "May God forgive thee, as I forgive
thee"?

Chilo had done him the most terrible wrong that one man could do
another. At the very thought of how he would act with a man who
killed Lygia, for instance, the heart of Vinicius seethed up, as does
water in a caldron; there were no torments which he would not
inflict in his vengeance! But Glaucus had forgiven; Ursus, too, had
forgiven, -- Ursus, who might in fact kill whomever he wished in
Rome with perfect impunity, for all he needed was to kill the king
of the grove in Nemi, and take his place. Could the gladiator
holding that office to which he had succeeded only by killing the

previous "king," resist the man whom Croton could not resist?
There was only one answer to all these questions: that they
refrained from killing him through a goodness so great that the like
of it had not been in the world up to that time, and through an
unbounded love of man, which commands to forget one's self,
one's wrongs, one's happiness and misfortune, and live for others.
What reward those people were to receive for this, Vinicius heard
in Ostrianum, but he could not understand it. He felt, however, that
the earthly life connected with the duty of renouncing everything
good and rich for the benefit of others must be wretched. So in
what he thought of the Christians at that moment, besides the
greatest astonishment, there was pity, and as it were a shade of
contempt. It seemed to him that they were sheep which earlier or
later must be eaten by wolves; his Roman nature could yield no
recognition to people who let themselves be devoured. This one
thing struck him, however, -- that after Chilo's departure the faces
of all were bright with a certain deep joy. The Apostle approached
Glaucus, placed his hand on his head, and said, -- "In thee Christ
has triumphed."

The other raised his eyes, which were full of hope, and as bright
with joy as if some great unexpected happiness had been poured
on him. Vinicius, who could understand only joy or delight born of
vengeance, looked on him with eyes staring from fever, and
somewhat as he would on a madman. He saw, however, and saw
not without internal indignation, that Lygia pressed her lips of a
queen to the hand of that man, who had the appearance of a slave;
and it seemed to him that the order of the world was inverted
utterly. Next Ursus told how he had conducted Chilo to the street,
and had asked forgiveness for the harm which he might have done
his bones; for this the Apostle blessed him also. Crispus declared
that it was a day of great victory. Hearing of this victory, Vinicius
lost the thread of his thought altogether.

But when Lygia gave him a cooling draught again, he held her
hand for a moment, and asked, -- "Then must thou also forgive
me?" "We are Christians; it is not permitted us to keep anger in the
heart." "Lygia," said he, "whoever thy God is, I honor Him only
because He is thine."

"Thou wilt honor Him in thy heart when thou lovest Him."

"Only because He is thine," repeated Vinicius, in a fainter voice;
and he closed his eyes, for weakness had mastered him again.

Lygia went out, but returned after a time, and bent over him to
learn if he were sleeping. Vinicius, feeling that she was near,
opened his eyes and smiled. She placed her hand over them lightly,
as if to incline him to slumber. A great sweetness seized him then;
but soon he felt more grievously ill than before, and was very ill in
reality. Night had come, and with it a more violent fever. He could
not sleep, and followed Lygia with his eyes wherever she went.

At times he fell into a kind of doze, in which he saw and heard
everything which happened around him, but in which reality was
mingled with feverish dreams. It seemed to him that in some old,
deserted cemetery stood a temple, in the form of a tower, in which
Lygia was priestess. He did not take his eyes from her, but saw her
on the summit of the tower, with a lute in her hands, all in the
light, like those priestesses who in the night-time sing hymns in
honor of the moon, and whom he had seen in the Orient. He
himself was climbing up winding steps, with great effort, to bear
her away with him. Behind was creeping up Chio, with teeth
chattering from terror, and repeating, "Do not do that, lord; she is a
priestess, for whom He will take vengeance." Vinicius did not
know who that He was, but he understood that he himself was
going to commit some sacrilege, and he felt a boundless fear also.
But when he went to the balustrade surrounding the summit of the
tower, the Apostle with his silvery beard stood at Lygia's side on a
sudden, and said:

"Do not raise a hand; she belongs to me." Then he moved forward
with her, on a path formed by rays from the moon, as if on a path
made to heaven. He stretched his hands toward them, and begged
both to take him into their company.

Here he woke, became conscious, and looked before him. The
lamp on the tall staff shone more dimly, but still cast a light
sufficiently clear. All were sitting in front of the fire warming
themselves, for the night was chilly, and the chamber rather cold.
Vinicius saw the breath coming as steam from their lips. In the
midst of them sat the Apostle; at his knees, on a low footstool, was
Lygia; farther on, Glaucus, Crispus, Miriam, and at the edge, on
one side Ursus, on the other Miriam's son Nazarius, a youth with a
handsome face, and long, dark hair reaching down to his
shoulders.

Lygia listened with eyes raised to the Apostle, and every head was
turned toward him, while he told something in an undertone.
Vinicius gazed at Peter with a certain superstitious awe, hardly
inferior to that terror which he felt during the fever dream. The
thought passed through his mind that that dream had touched truth;
that the gray-haired man there, freshly come from distant shores,
would take Lygia from him really, and take her somewhere away
by unknown paths. He felt sure also that the old man was speaking
of him, perhaps telling how to separate him from Lygia, for it
seemed to him impossible that any one could speak of aught else.
Hence, collecting all his presence of mind, he listened to Peter's
words.

But he was mistaken altogether, for the Apostle was speaking of
Christ again.

"They live only through that name," thought Vinicius.

The old man was describing the seizure of Christ. "A company
came, and servants of the priest to seize Him. When the Saviour
asked whom they were seeking, they answered, 'Jesus of Nazareth.'
But when He said to them, 'I am He,' they fell on the ground, and
dared not raise a hand on Him. Only after the second inquiry did
they seize Him."

Here the Apostle stopped, stretched his hands toward the fire and
continued: -- "The night was cold, like this one, but the heart in me
was seething; so, drawing a sword to defend Him, I cut an ear from
the servant of the high-priest. I would have defended Him more
than my own life had He not said to me, 'Put thy sword into the
sheath: the cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?'
Then they seized and bound Him."

When he had spoken thus far, Peter placed his palm on his
forehead, and was silent, wishing before he went further to stop
the crowd of his recollections. But Ursus, unable to restrain
himself, sprang to his feet, trimmed the light on the staff till the
sparks scattered in golden rain and the flame shot up with more
vigor. Then he sat down, and exclaimed:

"No matter what happened. I --"

He stopped suddenly, for Lygia had put her finger to her lips. But
he breathed loudly, and it was clear that a storm was in his soul;
and though he was ready at all times to kiss the feet of the Apostle,
that act was one he could not accept; if some one in his presence
had raised hands on the Redeemer, if he had been with Him on
that night -- Oi! splinters would have shot from the soldiers, the
servants of the priest, and the officials. Tears came to his eyes at
the very thought of this, and because of his sorrow and mental
struggle; for on the one hand he thought that he would not only
have defended the Redeemer, but would have called Lygians to his
aid, -- splendid fellows, -- and on the other, if he had acted thus he
would have disobeyed the Redeemer, and hindered the salvation of
man. For this reason he could not keep back his tears.

After a while Peter took his palm from his forehead, and resumed
the narrative. But Vinicius was overpowered by a new feverish,
waking dream. What he heard now was in his mind mixed up with
what the Apostle had told the night previous in Ostrianum, of that
day in which Christ appeared on the shore of the sea of Tiberius.
He saw a sheet of water broadly spread out; on it the boat of a
fisherman, and in the boat Peter and Lygia. He himself was
moving with all his might after that boat, but pain in his broken
arm prevented him from reaching it. The wind hurled waves in his
eyes, he began to sink, and called with entreating voice for rescue.
Lygia knelt down then before the Apostle, who turned his boat,
and reached an oar, which Vinicius seized: with their assistance he
entered the boat and fell on the bottom of it.

It seemed to him, then, that he stood up, and saw a multitude of
people sailing after them. Waves covered their heads with foam; in
the whirl only the hands of a few could be seen; but Peter saved
the drowning time after time, and gathered them into his boat,
which grew larger, as if by a miracle. Soon crowds filled it, as
numerous as those which were collected in Ostrianum, and then
still greater crowds. Vinicius wondered how they could find place
there, and he was afraid that they would sink to the bottom. But
Lygia pacified him by showing him a light on the distant shore
toward which they were sailing. These dream pictures of Vinicius
were blended again with descriptions which he had heard in
Ostrianum, from the lips of the Apostle, as to how Christ had
appeared on the lake once. So that he saw now in that light on the
shore a certain form toward which Peter was steering, and as he
approached it the weather grew calmer, the water grew smoother,
the light became greater. The crowd began to sing sweet hymns;
the air was filled with the odor of nard; the play of water formed a
rainbow, as if from the bottom of the lake lilies and roses were
looking, and at last the boat struck its breast safely against the
sand. Lygia took his hand then, and said, "Come, I will lead thee!"
and she led him to the light.