Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero
of barbers? For whom have wine-shops and bake-shops no secret? In whom
do slaves trust? Who can see through every house, from the atrium to the
garden? Who knows every street, every alley and hiding-place? Who
knows what they say in the baths, in the Circus, in the markets, in the
fencing-schools, in slave-dealers’ sheds, and even in the arenas?”
“By the gods! enough, noble sage!” cried Petronius; “we are drowning
in thy services, thy virtue, thy wisdom, and thy eloquence. Enough! We
wanted to know who thou art, and we know!”
But Vinicius was glad, for he thought that this man, like a hound, once
put on the trail, would not stop till he had found out the hiding-place.
“Well,” said he, “dost thou need indications?”
“I need arms.”
“Of what kind?” asked Vinicius, with astonishment.
The Greek stretched out one hand; with the other he made the gesture of
counting money.
“Such are the times, lord,” said he, with a sigh.
“Thou wilt be the ass, then,” said Petronius, “to win the fortress with
bags of gold?”
“I am only a poor philosopher,” answered Chilo, with humility; “ye have
the gold.”
Vinicius tossed him a purse, which the Greek caught in the air, though
two fingers were lacking on his right hand.
He raised his head then, and said: “I know more than thou thinkest.
I have not come empty-handed. I know that Aulus did not intercept the
maiden, for I have spoken with his slaves. I know that she is not on the
Palatine, for all are occupied with the infant Augusta; and perhaps
I may even divine why ye prefer to search for the maiden with my help
rather than that of the city guards and Cæsar’s soldiers. I know that
her escape was effected by a servant,--a slave coming from the same
country as she. He could not find assistance among slaves, for slaves
all stand together, and would not act against thy slaves. Only a
co-religionist would help him.”
“Dost hear, Vinicius?” broke in Petronius. “Have I not said the same,
word for word, to thee?”
“That is an honor for me,” said Chilo. “The maiden, lord,” continued he,
turning again to Vinicius, “worships beyond a doubt the same divinity
as that most virtuous of Roman ladies, that genuine matron, Pomponia.
I have heard this, too, that Pomponia was tried in her own house for
worshipping some kind of foreign god, but I could not learn from her
slaves what god that is, or what his worshippers are called. If I could
learn that, I should go to them, become the most devoted among them, and
gain their confidence. But thou, lord, who hast passed, as I know too,
a number of days in the house of the noble Aulus, canst thou not give me
some information thereon?”
“I cannot,” said Vinicius.
“Ye have asked me long about various things, noble lords, and I have
answered the questions; permit me now to give one. Hast thou not seen,
honored tribune, some statuette, some offering, some token, some amulet
on Pomponia or thy divine Lygia? Hast thou not seen them making signs to
each other, intelligible to them alone?”
“Signs? Wait! Yes; I saw once that Lygia made a fish on the sand.”
“A fish? A-a! O-o-o! Did she do that once, or a number of times?”
“Only once.”
“And art thou certain, lord, that she outlined a fish? O-o?”
“Yes,” answered Vinicius, with roused curiosity. “Dost thou divine what
that means?”
“Do I divine!” exclaimed Chilo. And bowing in sign of farewell, he
added: “May Fortune scatter on you both equally all gifts, worthy
lords!”
“Give command to bring thee a mantle,” said Petronius to him at parting.
“Ulysses gives thee thanks for Thersites,” said the Greek; and bowing a
second time, he walked out.
“What wilt thou say of that noble sage?” inquired Petronius.
“This, that he will find Lygia,” answered Vinicius, with delight; “but I
will say, too, that were there a kingdom of rogues he might be the king
of it.”
“Most certainly. I shall make a nearer acquaintance with this stoic;
meanwhile I must give command to perfume the atrium.”
But Chilo Chilonides, wrapping his new mantle about him, threw up on
his palm, under its folds, the purse received from Vinicius, and admired
both its weight and its jingle. Walking on slowly, and looking around
to see if they were not looking at him from the house, he passed the
portico of Livia, and, reaching the corner of the Clivus Virbius, turned
toward the Subura.
“I must go to Sporus,” said he to himself, “and pour out a little wine
to Fortuna. I have found at last what I have been seeking this long
time. He is young, irascible, bounteous as mines in Cyprus, and ready
to give half his fortune for that Lygian linnet. Just such a man have
I been seeking this long time. It is needful, however, to be on one’s
guard with him, for the wrinkling of his brow forebodes no good. Ah! the
wolf-whelps lord it over the world to-day! I should fear that Petronius
less. O gods! but the trade of procurer pays better at present than
virtue. Ah! she drew a fish on the sand! If I know what that means, may
I choke myself with a piece of goat’s cheese! But I shall know. Fish
live under water, and searching under water is more difficult than on
land, ergo he will pay me separately for this fish. Another such purse
and I might cast aside the beggar’s wallet and buy myself a slave. But
what wouldst thou say, Chilo, were I to advise thee to buy not a male
but a female slave? I know thee; I know that thou wouldst consent. If
she were beautiful, like Eunice, for instance, thou thyself wouldst grow
young near her, and at the same time wouldst have from her a good and
certain income. I sold to that poor Eunice two threads from my old
mantle. She is dull; but if Petronius were to give her to me, I would
take her. Yes, yes, Chilo Chilonides, thou hast lost father and mother,
thou art an orphan; therefore buy to console thee even a female slave.
She must indeed live somewhere, therefore Vinicius will hire her a
dwelling, in which thou too mayest find shelter; she must dress, hence
Vinicius will pay for the dress; and must eat, hence he will support
her. Och! what a hard life! Where are the times in which for an obolus a
man could buy as much pork and beans as he could hold in both hands, or
a piece of goat’s entrails as long as the arm of a boy twelve years old,
and filled with blood? But here is that villain Sporus! In the wine-shop
it will be easier to learn something.”
Thus conversing, he entered the wine-shop and ordered a pitcher of
“dark” for himself. Seeing the sceptical look of the shopkeeper, he
took a gold coin from his purse, and, putting it on the table,
said,--“Sporus, I toiled to-day with Seneca from dawn till midday, and
this is what my friend gave me at parting.”
The plump eyes of Sporus became plumper still at this sight, and the
wine was soon before Chilo. Moistening his fingers in it, he drew a fish
on the table, and said,--“Knowest what that means?”
“A fish? Well, a fish,--yes, that’s a fish.”
“Thou art dull; though thou dost add so much water to the wine that thou
mightst find a fish in it. This is a symbol which, in the language of
philosophers, means ‘the smile of fortune.’ If thou hadst divined it,
thou too mightst have made a fortune. Honor philosophy, I tell thee,
or I shall change my wine-shop,--an act to which Petronius, my personal
friend, has been urging me this long time.”
Chapter XIV
FOR a number of days after the interview, Chilo did not show himself
anywhere. Vinicius, since he had learned from Acte that Lygia loved him,
was a hundred times more eager to find her, and began himself to search.
He was unwilling, and also unable, to ask aid of Cæsar, who was in great
fear because of the illness of the infant Augusta.
Sacrifices in the temples did not help, neither did prayers and
offerings, nor the art of physicians, nor all the means of enchantment
to which they turned finally. In a week the child died. Mourning fell
upon the court and Rome. Cæsar, who at the birth of the infant was wild
with delight, was wild now from despair, and, confining himself in
his apartments, refused food for two days; and though the palace was
swarming with senators and Augustians, who hastened with marks of sorrow
and sympathy, he denied audience to every one. The senate assembled in
an extraordinary session, at which the dead child was pronounced divine.
It was decided to rear to her a temple and appoint a special priest to
her service. New sacrifices were offered in other temples in honor of
the deceased; statues of her were cast from precious metals; and her
funeral was one immense solemnity, during which the people wondered at
the unrestrained marks of grief which Cæsar exhibited; they wept
with him, stretched out their hands for gifts, and above all amused
themselves with the unparalleled spectacle.
That death alarmed Petronius. All knew in Rome that Poppæa ascribed it
to enchantment. The physicians, who were thus enabled to explain the
vanity of their efforts, supported her; the priests, whose sacrifices
proved powerless, did the same, as well as the sorcerers, who were
trembling for their lives, and also the people. Petronius was glad now
that Lygia had fled; for he wished no evil to Aulus and Pomponia, and he
wished good to himself and Vinicius; therefore when the cypress, set out
before the Palatine as a sign of mourning, was removed, he went to the
reception appointed for the senators and Augustians to learn how far
Nero had lent ear to reports of spells, and to neutralize results which
might come from his belief.
Knowing Nero, he thought, too, that though he did not believe in charms,
he would feign belief, so as to magnify his own suffering, and take
vengeance on some one, finally, to escape the suspicion that the gods
had begun to punish him for crimes. Petronius did not think that Cæsar
could love really and deeply even his own child; though he loved her
passionately, he felt certain, however, that he would exaggerate his
suffering. He was not mistaken. Nero listened, with stony face and fixed
eyes, to the consolation offered by knights and senators. It was evident
that, even if he suffered, he was thinking of this: What impression
would his suffering make upon others? He was posing as a Niobe, and
giving an exhibition of parental sorrow, as an actor would give it on
the stage. He had not the power even then to endure in his silent and as
it were petrified sorrow, for at moments he made a gesture as if to cast
the dust of the earth on his head, and at moments he groaned deeply; but
seeing Petronius, he sprang up and cried in a tragic voice, so that all
present could hear him,--“Eheu! And thou art guilty of her death! At thy
advice the evil spirit entered these walls,--the evil spirit which, with
one look, drew the life from her breast! Woe is me! Would that my eyes
had not seen the light of Helios! Woe is me! Eheu! eheu!”
And raising his voice still more, he passed into a despairing shout; but
Petronius resolved at that moment to put everything on one cast of the
dice; hence, stretching out his hand, he seized the silk kerchief which
Nero wore around his neck always, and, placing it on the mouth of the
Imperator, said solemnly,--“Lord, Rome and the world are benumbed with
pain; but do thou preserve thy voice for us!”
Those present were amazed; Nero himself was amazed for a moment.
Petronius alone was unmoved; he knew too well what he was doing. He
remembered, besides, that Terpnos and Diodorus had a direct order to
close Cæsar’s mouth whenever he raised his voice too much and exposed it
to danger.
“O Cæsar!” continued he, with the same seriousness and sorrow, “we have
suffered an immeasurable loss; let even this treasure of consolation
remain to us!”
Nero’s face quivered, and after a while tears came from his eyes. All