Books: Quo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero

H >> Henryk Sienkiewicz >> Quo Vadis A Narrative of the Time of Nero

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46

"Why?"

And she gazed at Lygia, as if to find an answer in her sleeping
face. She looked at her clear forehead, at the calm arch of her
brows, at her dark tresses, at her parted lips, at her virgin bosom
moved by calm breathing; then she thought again, -- "How
different from me!"

Lygia seemed to her a miracle, a sort of divine vision, something
beloved of the gods, a hundred times more beautiful than all the
flowers in Caesar's garden, than all the statues in his palace. But ih
the Greek woman's heart there was no envy. On the contrary, at
thought of the dangers which threatened the girl, great pity seized
her. A certain motherly feeling rose in the woman. Lygia seemed
to her not only as beautiful as a beautiful vision, but also very dear,
and, putting her lips to her dark hair, she kissed it.

But Lygia slept on calmly, as if at home, under the care of
Pomponia Graecina. And she slept rather long. Midday had passed
when she opened her blue eyes and looked around the cubiculum
in astonishment. Evidently she wondered that she was not in the
house of Aulus.

"That is thou, Acte?" said she at last, seeing in the darkness the
face of the Greek.

"I, Lygia."

"Is it evening?"

"No, child; but midday has passed."

"And has Ursus not returned?"

"Ursus did not say that he would return; he said that he would
watch in the evening, with Christians, for the litter."

"True."

Then they left the cubiculum and went to the bath, where Acte
bathed Lygia; then she took her to breakfast and afterward to the
gardens of the palace, in which no dangerous meeting might be
feared, since Caesar and his principal courtiers were sleeping yet.
For the first time in her life Lygia saw those magnificent gardens,
full of pines, cypresses, oaks, olives, and myrtles, among which
appeared white here and there a whole population of statues. The
mirror of ponds gleamed quietly; groves of roses were blooming,
watered with the spray of fountains; entrances to charming grottos
were encircled with a growth of ivy or woodbine; silver-colored
swans were sailing on the water; amidst statues and trees wandered
tame gazelles from the deserts of Africa, and rich-colored birds
from all known countries on earth.

The gardens were empty; but here and there slaves were working,
spade in hand, singing in an undertone; others, to whom was
granted a moment of rest, were sitting by ponds or in the shade of
groves, in trembling light produced by sun-rays breaking in
between leaves; others were watering roses or the pale lily-colored
blossoms of the saffron. Acte and Lygia walked rather long,
looking at all the wonders of the gardens; and though Lygia's mind
was not at rest, she was too much a child yet to resist pleasure,
curiosity, and wonder. It occurred to her, even, that if Caesar were
good, he might be very happy in such a palace, in such gardens.

But at last, tired somewhat, the two women sat down on a bench
hidden almost entirely by dense cypresses and began to talk of that
which weighed on their hearts most, -- that is, of Lygia's escape in
the evening. Acte was far less at rest than Lygia touching its
success. At times it seemed to her even a mad project, which could
not succeed. She felt a growing pity for Lygia. It seemed to her that
it would be a hundred times safer to try to act on Vinicius. After a
while she inquired of Lygia how long she had known him, and
whether she did not think that he would let himself be persuaded
to return her to Pomponia.

But Lygia shook her dark head in sadness. "No. In Aulus's house,
Vinicius had been different, he had been very kind, but since
yesterday's feast she feared him, and would rather flee to the
Lygians."

"But in Aulus's house," inquired Acte, "he was dear to thee, was he
not?"

"He was," answered Lygia, inclining her head.

"And thou wert not a slave, as I was," said Acte, after a moment's
thought. "Vinicius might marry thee. Thou art a hostage, and a
daughter of the Lygian king. Aulus and Pomponia love thee as
their own child; I am sure that they arc ready to adopt thee.
Vinicius might marry thee, Lygia."

But Lygia answered calmly, and with still greater sadness, "I would
rather flee to the Lygians."

"Lygia, dost thou wish me to go directly to Vinicius, rouse him, if
he is sleepmg, and tell him what I have told thee? Yes, my
precious one, I will go to him and say, 'Vinicius, this is a king's
daughter, and a dear child of the famous Aulus; if thou love her,
return her to Aulus and Pomponia, and take her as wife from their
house.'"

But the maiden answered with a voice so low that Acte could
barely hear it, --

"1 would rather flee to the Lygians." And two tears were hanging
on her drooping lids.

Further conversation was stopped by the rustle of approaching
steps, and bef ore Acte had time to see who was coming, Poppae
Sabina appeared in front of the bench with a small retinue of slave
women. Two of them held over her head bunches of ostrich
feathers fixed to golden wires; with these they fanned her lightly,
and at the same time protected her from the autumn sun, which
was hot yet. Before her a woman from Egypt, black as ebony, and
with bosom swollen as if from milk, bore in her arms an infant
wrapped in purple fringed with gold. Acte and Lygia rose, thinking
that Popp~ra would pass the bench without turning attention to
either; but she halted before them and said, -- "Acte, the bells sent
by thee for the doll were badly fastened; the child tore off one and
put it to her mouth; luckily Lilith saw it in season."

"Pardon, divinity," answered Acte, crossing her arms on her breast
and bending her head.

But Poppaea began to gaze at Lygia.

"What slave is this?" asked she, after a pause.

"She is not a slave, divine Augusta, but a foster child of Pomponia
Graecina, and a daughter of the Lygian king given by him as
hostage to Rome."

"And has she come to visit thee?"

"No, Augusta. She is dwelling in the palace since the day before
yesterday."

"Was she at the feast last night?"

"She was, Augusta."

"At whose command?"

"At Caesar's command."

Poppae looked still more attentively at Lygia, who stood with
bowed head, now raising her bright eyes to her with curiosity, now
covering them with their lids. Suddenly a frown appeared between
the brows of the Augusta. Jealous of her own beauty and power,
she lived in continual alarm lest at some time a fortunate rival
might ruin her, as she had ruined Octavia. Hence every beautiful
face in the palace roused her suspicion. With the eye of a critic she
took in at once every part of Lygia's form, estimated every detail of
her face, and was frightened. "That is simply a nymph," thought
she, "and 'twas Venus who gave birth to her." On a sudden this
came to her mind which had never come before at sight of any
beauty, -- that she herself had grown notably older! Wounded
vanity quivered in Poppaea, alarm seized her, and various fears
shot through her head. "Perhaps Nero has not seen the girl, or,
seeing her through the emerald, has not appreciated her. But what
would happen should he meet such a marvel in the daytime, in
sunlight? Moreover she is not a slave, she is the daughter of a king,
-- a king of barbarians, it is true, but a king. Immortal gods! she is
as beautiful as I am, but younger!" The wrinkle between her brows
increased, and her eyes began to shine under their golden lashes
with a cold gleam.

"Hast thou spoken with Caesar?"

"No, Augusta."

"Why dost thou choose to be here rather than in the house of
Aulus?"

"I do not choose, lady. Petronius persuaded Caesar to take me from
Pomponia. I am here against my will."

"And wouldst thou return to Pomponia?"

This last question Poppae gave with a softer and milder voice;
hence a sudden hope rose in Lygia's heart.

"Lady," said she, extending her hand to her, "Caesar promised to
give me as a slave to Vinicius, but do thou intercede and return me
to Pomponia."

"Then Petronius persuaded Caesar to take thee from Aulus, and
give thee to Vinicius?"

"True, lady. Vinicius is to send for me to-day, but thou art good,
have compassion on me." When she had said this, she inclined,
and, seizing the border of Poppae's robe, waited for her word with
beating heart. Poppaa looked at her for a while, with a face lighted
by an evil smile, and said, -- "Then I promise that thou wilt
become the slave of Vinicius this day." And she went on, beautiful
as a vision, but evil. To the ears of Lygia and Acte came only the
wail of the infant, which began to cry, it was unknown for what
reason.

Lygia's eyes too were filled with tears; but after a while she took
Acte's hand and said, -- "Let us return. Help is to be looked for
only whence it can come." And they returned to the atrium, which
they did not leave till evening.

When darkness had come and slaves brought in tapers with great
flames, both women were very pale. Their conversation failed
every moment. Both were listening to hear if some one were
coming. Lygia repeated again and again that, though grieved to
leave Acte, she preferred that all should take place that day, as
Ursus must be waiting in the dark for her then. But her breathing
grew quicker from emotion, and louder. Acte collected feverishly
such jewels as she could, and, fastening them in a corner of Lygia's
peplus, implored her not to reject that gift and means of escape. At
moments came a deep silence full of deceptions for the ear. It
seemed to both that they heard at one time a whisper beyond the
curtain, at another the distant weeping of a child, at another the
barking of dogs.

Suddenly the curtain of the entrance moved without noise, and a
tall, dark man, his face marked with small-pox, appeared like a
spirit in the atrium. In one moment Lygia recognized Atacinus, a
freedman of Vinicius, who had visited the house of Aulus.

Acte screamed; but Atacinus bent low and said, -- "A greeting,
divine Lygia, from Marcus Vinicius, who awaits thee with a feast
in his house which is decked in green."

The lips of the maiden grew pale.

"I go," said she.

Then she threw her arms around Acte's neck in farewell.

Chapter X

THE house of Vinicius was indeed decked in the green of myrtle
and ivy, which had been hung on the walls and over the doors. The
columns were wreathed with grape vine. In the atrium, which was
closed above by a purple woollen cloth as protection from the
night cold, it was as clear as in daylight. Eight and twelve flamed
lamps were burning; these were like vessels, trees, animals, birds,
or statues, holding cups filled with perfumed olive oil, lamps of
alabaster, marble, or gilded Corinthian bronze, not so wonderful as
that famed candlestick used by Nero and taken from the temple of
Apollo, but beautiful and made by famous masters. Some of the
lights were shaded by Alexandrian glass, or transparent stuffs from
the Indus, of red, blue, yellow, or violet color, so that the whole
atrium was filled with many colored rays. Everywhere was given
out the odor of nard, to which Vinicius had grown used, and which
he had learned to love in the Orient. The depths of the house, in
which the forms of male and female slaves were movmg, gleamed
also with light. In the triclinium a table was laid for four persons.
At the feast were to sit, besides Vinicius and Lygia, Petronius and
Chrysothemis. Vimcius had followed in everything the words of
Petronius, who advised him not to go for Lygia, but to send
Atacinus with the permission obtained from Caesar, to receive her
himself in the house, receive her with friendliness and even with
marks of honor.

"Thou wert drunk yesterday," said he; "I saw thee. Thou didst act
with her like a quarryman from the Alban Hills. Be not
over-insistent, and remember that one should drink good wine
slowly. Know too that it is sweet to desire, but sweeter to be
desired."

Chrysothemis had her own and a somewhat different opinion on
this point; but Petronius, calling her his vestal and his dove, began
to explain the difference which must exist between a trained
charioteer of the Circus and the youth who sits on the quadriga for
the first time. Then, turning to Vinicius, he continued, -- "Win her
confidence, make her joyful, be magnanimous. I have no wish to
see a gloomy feast. Swear to her, by Hades even, that thou wilt
return her to Pomponia, and it will be thy affair that to-morrow she
prefers to stay with thee."

Then pointing to Chrysothemis, he added, -- "For five years I have
acted thus more or less with this timid dove, and I cannot complain
of her harshness."

Chrysothemis struck him with her fan of peacock feathers, and
said, -- "But I did not resist, thou satyr!"

"Out of consideration for my predecessor --"

"But wert thou not at my feet?"

"Yes; to put rings on thy toes."

Chrysothemis looked involuntarily at her feet, on the toes of which
diamonds were really glittering; and she and Petronius began to
laugh. But Vinicius did not give ear to their bantering. His heart
was beating unquietly under the robes of a Syrian priest, in which
he had arrayed himself to receive Lygia.

"They must have left the palace," said he, as if in a monologue.

"They must," answered Petronius. "Meanwhile I may mention the
predictions of Apollonius of Tyana, or that history of Rufinus
which I have not finished, I do not remember why."

But Vinicius cared no more for Apollonius of Tyana than for the
history of Rufinus. His mind was with Lygia; and though he felt
that it was more appropriate to receive her at home than to go in
the role of a myrmidon to the palace, he was sorry at moments that
he had not gone, for the single reason that he might have seen her
sooner, and sat near her in the dark, in the double litter.

Meanwhile slaves brought in a tripod ornamented with rams'
heads, bronze dishes with coals, on which they sprinkled bits of
myrrh and nard.

"Now they are turning toward the Carinx," said Vinicius, again.

"He cannot wait; he will run to meet the litter, and is likely to miss
them!" exclaimed Chrysothemis.

Vinicius smiled without thinking, and said, -- "On the contrary, I
will wait."

But he distended his nostrils and panted; seeing which, Petronius
shrugged his shoulders, and said, -- "There is not in him a
philosopher to the value of one sestertium, and I shall never make
a man of that son of Mars."

"They are now in the Carinaae."

In fact, they were turning toward the Carimr. The slaves called
lampadarii were in front; others called pedisequii, were on both
sides of the litter. Atacinus was right behind, overseeing the
advance. But they moved slowly, for lamps showed the way badly
in a place not lighted at all. The streets near the palace were
empty; here and there only some man moved forward with a
lantern, but farther on the place was uncommonly crowded. From
almost every alley people were pushing out in threes and fours, all
without lamps, all in dark mantles. Some walked on with the
procession, mingling with the slaves; others in greater numbers
came from the opposite direction. Some staggered as if drunk. At
moments the advance grew so difficult that the lampadarii cried, --
"Give way to the noble tribune, Marcus Vinicius!"

Lygia saw those dark crowds through the curtains which were
pushed aside, and trembled with emotion. She was carried away at
one moment by hope, at another by fear.

"That is he! --that is Ursus and the Christians! Now it will happen
quickly," said she, with trembling lips. "O Christ, aid! O Christ,
save!"

Atacinus himself, who at first did not notice the uncommon
animation of the street, began at last to be alarmed. There was
something strange in this. The lampadaril had to cry oftener and
oftener, "Give way to the litter of the noble tribune!" From the
sides unknown people crowded up to the litter so much that
Atacinus commanded the slaves to repulse them with clubs.

Suddenly a cry was heard in front of the procession. In one instant
all the lights were extinguished. Around the litter came a rush, an
uproar, a struggle.

Atacinus saw that this was simply an attack; and when he saw it he
was frightened. It was known to all that Caesar with a crowd of
attendants made attacks frequently for amusement in the Subura
and in other parts of the city. It was known that even at times he
brought out of these night adventures black and blue spots; but
whoso defended himself went to his death, even if a senator. The
house of the guards, whose duty it was to watch over the city, was
not very far; but during such attacks the guards feigned to be deaf
and blind.

Meanwhile there was an uproar around the litter; people struck,
struggled, threw, and trampled one another. The thought flashed
on Atacinus to save Lygia and himself, above all, and leave the rest
to their fate. So, drawing her out of the litter, he took her in his
arms and strove to escape in the darkness.

But Lygia called, "Ursus! Ursus!"

She was dressed in white; hence it was easy to see her. Atacinus,
with his other arm, which was free, was throwing his own mantle
over her hastily, when terrible claws seized his neck, and on his
head a gigantic, crushing mass fell like a stone.

He dropped in one instant, as an ox felled by the back of an axe
before the altar of Jove.

The slaves for the greater part were either lying on the ground, or
had saved themselves by scattering in the thick darkness, around
the turns of the walls. On the spot remained only the litter, broken
in the onset. Ursus bore away Lygia to the Subura; his comrades
followed him, dispersing gradually along the way.

The slaves assembled before the house of Vinicius, and took
counsel. They had not courage to enter. After a short deliberation
they returned to the place of conflict, where they found a few
corpses, and among them Atacinus. He was quivering yet; but,
after a moment of more violent convulsion, he stretched and was
motionless.

They took him then, and, returning, stopped before the gate a
second time But they must declare to their lord what had
happened.

"Let Cub declare it," whispered some voices; "blood is flowing
from his face as from ours; and the master loves him; it is safer for
Gulo than for others."

Gulo, a German, an old slave, who had nursed Vinicius, and was
inherited by him from his mother, the sister of Petronius, said, --

"I will tell him; but do ye all come. Do not let his anger fall on my
head alone."

Vinicius was growing thoroughly impatient. Petronius and
Chrysothemis were laughing; but he walked with quick step up and
down the atrium.

"They ought to be here! They ought to be here!"

He wished to go out to meet the litter, but Petronius and
Chrysothemis detained him.

Steps were heard suddenly in the entrance; the slaves rushed into
the atrium in a crowd, and, halting quickly at the wall, raised their
hands, and began to repeat with groaning, -- "Aaaa! --aa!"

Vinicius sprang toward them.

"Where is Lygia?" cried he, with a terrible and changed voice.
"Aaaa!"

Then Gulo pushed forward with his bloody face, and exclaimed, in
haste and pitifully,

"See our blood, lord! We fought! See our blood! See our blood!"
But he had not finished when Vinicius seized a bronze lamp, and
with one blow shattered the skull of the slave; then, seizing his
own head with both hands, he drove his fingers into his hair,
repeating hoarsely, -- "Me miserum! me miserum!"

His face became blue, his eyes turned in his head, foam came out
on his lips.

"Whips!" roared he at last, with an unearthly voice. "Lord! Aaaa!
Take pity!" groaned the slaves.

Petronius stood up with an expression of disgust on his face.
"Come, Chry.. sothemis!" said he. "if 'tis thy wish to look on raw
flesh, I will give command to open a butcher's stall on the
Carina~!"

And he walked out of the atrium. But through the whole house,
ornamented in the green of ivy and prepared for a feast, were
heard, from moment to moment, groans and the whistling of
whips, which lasted almost till morning.

Chapter XI

VINICIUS did not lie down that night. Some time after the
departure of Petronius, when the groans of his flogged slaves
could allay neither his rage nor his pain, he collected a crowd of
other servants, and, though the night was far advanced, rushed
forth at the head of these to look for Lygia. He visited the district
of the Esquiline, then the Subura, Vicus Sceleratus, and all the
adjoining alleys. Passing next around the Capitol, he went to the
island over the bridge of Fabricius; after that he passed through a
part of the TransTiber. But that was a pursuit without object, for
he himself had no hope of finding Lygia, and if he sought her it
was mainly to fill out with something a terrible night. In fact he
returned home about daybreak, when the carts and mules of
dealers in vegetables began to appear in the city, and when bakers
were opening their shops.

On returning he gave command to put away Gubo's corpse, which
no one had ventured to touch. The slaves from whom Lygia had
been taken he sent to rural prisons, -- a punishment almost more
dreadful than death. Throwing himself at last on a couch in the
atrium, he began to think confusedly of how he was to find and
seize Lygia.

To resign her, to lose her, not to see her again, seemed to him
impossible; and at this thought alone frenzy took hold of him. For
the first time in life the imperious nature of the youthful soldier
met resistance, met another unbending will, and he could not
understand simply how any one could have the daring to thwart his
wishes. Vinicius would have chosen to see the world and the city
sink in ruins rather than fail of his purpose. The cup of delight had
been snatched from before his lips almost; hence it seemed to him
that something unheard of had happened, something crying to
divine and human laws for vengeance.

But, first of all, he was unwilling and unable to be reconciled with
fate, for never in life had he so desired anything as Lygia. It
seemed to him that he could not exist without her. He could not
tell himself what he was to do without her on the morrow, how he
was to survive the days following. At moments he was transported
by a rage against her, which approached madness. He wanted to
have her, to beat her, to drag her by the hair to the cubiculum, and
gloat over her; then, again, he was carried away by a terrible
yearning for her voice, her form, her eyes, and he felt that he
would be ready to lie at her feet. He called to her, gnawed his
fingers, clasped his head with his hands. He strove with all his
might to think calmly about searching for her, -- and was unable. A
thousand methods and means flew through his head, but one
wilder than another. At last the thought flashed on him that no one
else had intercepted her but Aulus, that in every case Aulus must
know where she was hiding. And he sprang up to run to the house
of Aulus.

If they will not yield her to him, if they have no fear of his threats,
he will go to Caesar, accuse the old general of disobedience, and
obtain a sentence of death against him; but before that, he will
gain from them a confession of where Lygia is. If they give her,
even willingly, he will be revenged. They received him, it is true,
in their house and nursed him, -- but that is nothing! With this one
injustice they have freed him from every debt of gratitude. Here
his vengeful and stubborn soul began to take pleasure at the
despair of Pomponia Gr~ecina, when the centurion would bring
the death sentence to old Aulus. He was almost certain that he
would get it. Petronius would assist him. Moreover, Caesar never
denies anything to his intimates, the Augustians, unless personal
dislike or desire enjoins a refusal.

Suddenly his heart almost died within him, under the influence of
this terrible supposition, -- "But if Caesar himself has taken
Lygia?"

All knew that Nero from tedium sought recreation in night attacks.
Even Petronius took part in these amusements. Their main object
was to seize women and toss each on a soldier's mantle till she
fainted. Even Nero himself on occasions called these expeditions
"pearl hunts," for it happened that in the depth of districts occupied
by a numerous and needy population they caught a real pearl of
youth and beauty sometimes. Then the "sagatio," as they termed
the tossing, was changed into a genuine carrying away, and the
pearl was sent either to the Palatine or to one of Caesar's
numberless villas, or finally Caesar yielded itto one of his
intimates. So might it happen also with Lygia. Caesar had seen her
during the feast; and Vinicius doubted not for an instant that she
must have seemed to him the most beautiful woman he had seen
yet. How could it be otherwise? It is true that Lygia had been in
Nero's own house on the Palatine, and he might have kept her
openly. But, as Petronius said truly, Caesar had no courage in
crime, and, with power to act openly, he chose to act always in
secret. This time fear of Poppaera might incline him also to
secrecy. It occurred now to the young soldier that Aulus would not
have dared, perhaps, to carry off forcibly a girl given him,
Vinicius, by Caesar. Besides, who would dare? Would that
gigantic blue-eyed Lygian, who had the courage to enter the
triclinium and carry her from the feast on his arm? But where
could he hide with her; whither could he take her? No! a slave
would not have ventured that far. Hence no one had done the deed
except Caesar.