Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero
time a greater scoundrel, which brings him nearer Ahenobarbus. These two
will understand each other earlier or later, and then my turn will come.
I know not when it will come; but I know this, that as things are it
must come; hence let time pass. Meanwhile we must amuse ourselves. Life
of itself would not be bad were it not for Bronzebeard. Thanks to him,
a man at times is disgusted with himself. It is not correct to consider
the struggle for his favor as a kind of rivalry in a circus,--as a
kind of game, as a struggle, in which victory flatters vanity. True, I
explain it to myself in that way frequently; but still it seems to me
sometimes that I am like Chilo, and better in nothing than he. When he
ceases to be needful to thee, send him to me. I have taken a fancy to
his edifying conversation. A greeting from me to thy divine Christian,
or rather beg her in my name not to be a fish to thee. Inform me of thy
health, inform me of thy love, know how to love, teach how to love, and
farewell.”
VINICIUS to PETRONIUS:
“Lygia is not found yet! Were it not for the hope that I shall find her
soon, thou wouldst not receive an answer; for when a man is disgusted
with life, he has no wish to write letters. I wanted to learn whether
Chilo was not deceiving me; and at night when he came to get the money
for Euricius, I threw on a military mantle, and unobserved followed
him and the slave whom I sent with him. When they reached the place, I
watched from a distance, hidden behind a portico pillar, and convinced
myself that Euricius was not invented. Below, a number of tens of people
were unloading stones from a spacious barge, and piling them up on the
bank. I saw Chilo approach them, and begin to talk with some old man,
who after a while fell at his feet. Others surrounded them with shouts
of admiration. Before my eyes the boy gave a purse to Euricius, who on
seizing it began to pray with upraised hands, while at his side some
second person was kneeling, evidently his son. Chilo said something
which I could not hear, and blessed the two who were kneeling, as well
as others, making in the air signs in the form of a cross, which they
honor apparently, for all bent their knees. The desire seized me to go
among them, and promise three such purses to him who would deliver to me
Lygia; but I feared to spoil Chilo’s work, and after hesitating a moment
went home.
“This happened at least twelve days after thy departure. Since then
Chilo has been a number of times with me. He says that he has gained
great significance among the Christians; that if he has not found Lygia
so far, it is because the Christians in Rome are innumerable, hence all
are not acquainted with each person in their community, and cannot know
everything that is done in it. They are cautious, too, and in general
reticent. He gives assurance, however, that when he reaches the elders,
who are called presbyters, he will learn every secret. He has made the
acquaintance of a number of these already, and has begun to inquire of
them, though carefully, so as not to rouse suspicion by haste, and not
to make the work still more difficult. Though it is hard to wait, though
patience fails, I feel that he is right, and I wait.
“He learned, too, that they have places of meeting for prayer,
frequently outside the city, in empty houses and even in sand-pits.
There they worship Christ, sing hymns, and have feasts. There are many
such places. Chilo supposes that Lygia goes purposely to different ones
from Pomponia, so that the latter, in case of legal proceedings or an
examination, might swear boldly that she knew nothing of Lygia’s hiding
place. It may be that the presbyters have advised caution. When Chilo
discovers those places, I will go with him; and if the gods let me see
Lygia, I swear to thee by Jupiter that she will not escape my hands this
time.
“I am thinking continually of those places of prayer. Chilo is unwilling
that I should go with him; he is afraid. But I cannot stay at home. I
should know her at once, even in disguise or if veiled. They assemble in
the night, but I should recognize her in the night even. I should know
her voice and motions anywhere. I will go myself in disguise, and look
at every person who goes in or out. I am thinking of her always, and
shall recognize her. Chilo is to come to-morrow, and we shall go. I
will take arms. Some of my slaves sent to the provinces have returned
empty-handed. But I am certain now that she is in the city, perhaps
not far away even. I myself have visited many houses under pretext of
renting them. She will fare better with me a hundred times; where she
is, whole legions of poor people dwell. Besides, I shall spare nothing
for her sake. Thou writest that I have chosen well. I have chosen
suffering and sorrow. We shall go first to those houses which are in
the city, then beyond the gates. Hope looks for something every morning,
otherwise life would be impossible. Thou sayest that one should know how
to love. I knew how to talk of love to Lygia. But now I only yearn; I do
nothing but wait for Chilo. Life to me is unendurable in my own house.
Farewell!”
Chapter XVI
BUT Chilo did not appear for some time, and Vinicius knew not at last
what to think of his absence. In vain he repeated to himself that
searching, if continued to a certain and successful issue, must be
gradual. His blood and impulsive nature rebelled against the voice
of judgment. To do nothing, to wait, to sit with folded arms, was so
repulsive to him that he could not be reconciled to it in any way. To
search the alleys of the city in the dark garb of a slave, through this
alone, that it was useless, seemed to him merely a mask for his own
inefficiency, and could give no satisfaction. His freedmen, persons
of experience, whom he commanded to search independently, turned out
a hundred times less expert than Chilo. Meanwhile there rose in him,
besides his love for Lygia, the stubbornness of a player resolved to
win. Vinicius had been always a person of this kind. From earliest youth
he had accomplished what he desired with the passionateness of one who
does not understand failure, or the need of yielding something. For a
time military discipline had put his self-will within bounds, but also
it had engrafted into him the conviction that every command of his to
subordinates must be fulfilled; his prolonged stay in the Orient, among
people pliant and inured to slavish obedience, confirmed in him the
faith that for his “I wish” there were no limits. At present his vanity,
too, was wounded painfully. There was, besides, in Lygia’s
opposition and resistance, and in her flight itself, which was to him
incomprehensible, a kind of riddle. In trying to solve this riddle he
racked his head terribly. He felt that Acte had told the truth, and that
Lygia was not indifferent. But if this were true, why had she preferred
wandering and misery to his love, his tenderness, and a residence in his
splendid mansion? To this question he found no answer, and arrived only
at a kind of dim understanding that between him and Lygia, between their
ideas, between the world which belonged to him and Petronius, and the
world of Lygia and Pomponia, there existed some sort of difference, some
kind of misunderstanding as deep as an abyss, which nothing could fill
up or make even. It seemed to him, then, that he must lose Lygia; and
at this thought he lost the remnant of balance which Petronius wished to
preserve in him. There were moments in which he did not know whether he
loved Lygia or hated her; he understood only that he must find her, and
he would rather that the earth swallowed her than that he should not see
and possess her. By the power of imagination he saw her as clearly at
times as if she had been before his face. He recalled every word which
he had spoken to her; every word which he had heard from her. He felt
her near; felt her on his bosom, in his arms; and then desire embraced
him like a flame. He loved her and called to her.
And when he thought that he was loved, that she might do with
willingness all that he wished of her, sore and endless sorrow seized
him, and a kind of deep tenderness flooded his heart, like a mighty
wave. But there were moments, too, in which he grew pale from rage, and
delighted in thoughts of the humiliation and tortures which he would
inflict on Lygia when he found her. He wanted not only to have her, but
to have her as a trampled slave. At the same time he felt that if the
choice were left him, to be her slave or not to see her in life again,
he would rather be her slave. There were days in which he thought of the
marks which the lash would leave on her rosy body, and at the same time
he wanted to kiss those marks. It came to his head also that he would be
happy if he could kill her.
In this torture, torment, uncertainty, and suffering, he lost health,
and even beauty. He became a cruel and incomprehensible master. His
slaves, and even his freedmen, approached him with trembling; and when
punishments fell on them causelessly,--punishments as merciless as
undeserved,--they began to hate him in secret; while he, feeling this,
and feeling his own isolation, took revenge all the more on them. He
restrained himself with Chilo alone, fearing lest he might cease his
searches; the Greek, noting this, began to gain control of him, and grew
more and more exacting. At first he assured Vinicius at each visit that
the affair would proceed easily and quickly; now he began to discover
difficulties, and without ceasing, it is true, to guarantee the
undoubted success of the searches, he did not hide the fact that they
must continue yet for a good while.
At last he came, after long days of waiting, with a face so gloomy that
the young man grew pale at sight of him, and springing up had barely
strength to ask,--“Is she not among the Christians?” “She is, lord,”
answered Chilo; “but I found Glaucus among them.” “Of what art thou
speaking, and who is Glaucus?” “Thou hast forgotten, lord, it seems,
that old man with whom I journeyed from Naples to Rome, and in whose
defence I lost these two fingers,--a loss which prevents me from
writing. Robbers, who bore away his wife and child, stabbed him with a
knife. I left him dying at an inn in Minturna, and bewailed him long.
Alas! I have convinced myself that he is alive yet, and belongs in Rome
to the Christian community.”
Vinicius, who could not understand what the question was, understood
only that Glaucus was becoming a hindrance to the discovery of Lygia;
hence he suppressed his rising anger, and said,--“If thou didst defend
him, he should be thankful and help thee.”
“Ah! worthy tribune, even gods are not always grateful, and what must
the case be with men? True, he should be thankful. But, unhappily, he is
an old man, of a mind weak and darkened by age and disappointment; for
which reason, not only is he not grateful, but, as I learned from his
co-religionists, he accuses me of having conspired with the robbers, and
says that I am the cause of his misfortunes. That is the recompense for
my fingers!”
“Scoundrel! I am certain that it was as he says,” replied Vinicius.
“Then thou knowest more than he does, lord, for he only surmises that
it was so; which, however, would not prevent him from summoning the
Christians, and from revenging himself on me cruelly. He would have done
that undoubtedly, and others, with equal certainty, would have helped
him; but fortunately he does not know my name, and in the house of
prayer where we met, he did not notice me. I, however, knew him at once,
and at the first moment wished to throw myself on his neck. Wisdom,
however, and the habit of thinking before every step which I intend to