Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero
of all that? Is it not time to live as all live? What will Lygia do
later, save to reconcile her fate with the religion which she professes?
That, too, is a question of inferior significance. Those are matters
devoid of importance. First of all, she will be his,--and his this very
day. And it is a question, too, whether that religion will hold out
in her soul against the world which is new to her, against luxury, and
excitements to which she must yield. All may happen to-day. He needs
only to detain Chilo, and give an order at dark. And then delight
without end! “What has my life been?” thought Vinicius; “suffering,
unsatisfied desire, and an endless propounding of problems without
answer.” In this way all will be cut short and ended. He recollected,
it is true, that he had promised not to raise a hand against her. But by
what had he sworn? Not by the gods, for he did not believe in them;
not by Christ, for he did not believe in him yet. Finally, if she feels
injured, he will marry her, and thus repair the wrong. Yes; to that he
feels bound, for to her he is indebted for life. Here he recalled the
day in which with Croton he had attacked her retreat; he remembered the
Lygian’s fist raised above him, and all that had happened later. He saw
her again bent over his couch, dressed in the garb of a slave, beautiful
as a divinity, a benefactress kind and glorified. His eyes passed to
the lararium unconsciously, and to the little cross which she left him
before going. Will he pay for all that by a new attack? Will he drag her
by the hair as a slave to his cubiculum? And how will he be able to do
so, since he not only desires but loves her, and he loves her specially
because she is as she is? All at once he felt that it was not enough for
him to have her in the house, it was not enough to seize her in his arms
by superior force; he felt that his love needed something more,--her
consent, her loves and her soul. Blessed that roof, if she come under it
willingly; blessed the moment, blessed the day, blessed his life. Then
the happiness of both will be as inexhaustible as the ocean, as the sun.
But to seize her by violence would be to destroy that happiness forever,
and at the same time to destroy, and defile that which is most precious
and alone beloved in life. Terror seized him now at the very thought
of this. He glanced at Chilo, who, while watching him, pushed his hands
under his rags and scratched himself uneasily. That instant, disgust
unspeakable took possession of Vinicius, and a wish to trample that
former assistant of his, as he would a foul worm or venomous serpent. In
an instant he knew what to do. But knowing no measure in anything, and
following the impulse of his stern Roman nature, he turned toward Chilo
and said,--
“I will not do what thou advisest, but, lest thou go without just
reward, I will command to give thee three hundred stripes in the
domestic prison.”
Chilo grew pale. There was so much cold resolution in the beautiful face
of Vinicius that he could not deceive himself for a moment with the hope
that the promised reward was no more than a cruel jest.
Hence he threw himself on his knees in one instant, and bending double
began to groan in a broken voice,--“How, O king of Persia? Why?--O
pyramid of kindness! Colossus of mercy! For what?--I am old, hungry,
unfortunate--I have served thee--dost thou repay in this manner?”
“As thou didst the Christians,” said Vinicius. And he called the
dispensator.
But Chilo sprang toward his feet, and, embracing them convulsively,
talked, while his face was covered with deathly pallor,--“O lord, O
lord! I am old! Fifty, not three hundred stripes. Fifty are enough! A
hundred, not three hundred! Oh, mercy, mercy!”
Vinicius thrust him away with his foot, and gave the order. In the
twinkle of an eye two powerful Quadi followed the dispensator, and,
seizing Chilo by the remnant of his hair, tied his own rags around his
neck and dragged him to the prison.
“In the name of Christ!” called the Greek, at the exit of the corridor.
Vinicius was left alone. The order just issued roused and enlivened
him. He endeavored to collect his scattered thoughts, and bring them to
order. He felt great relief, and the victory which he had gained over
himself filled him with comfort. He thought that he had made some great
approach toward Lygia, and that some high reward should be given him.
At the first moment it did not even occur to him that he had done a
grievous wrong to Chilo, and had him flogged for the very acts for which
he had rewarded him previously. He was too much of a Roman yet to be
pained by another man’s suffering, and to occupy his attention with one
wretched Greek. Had he even thought of Chilo’s suffering he would have
considered that he had acted properly in giving command to punish such
a villain. But he was thinking of Lygia, and said to her: I will not pay
thee with evil for good; and when thou shalt learn how I acted with
him who strove to persuade me to raise hands against thee, thou wilt be
grateful. But here he stopped at this thought: Would Lygia praise
his treatment of Chilo? The religion which she professes commands
forgiveness; nay, the Christians forgave the villain, though they had
greater reasons for revenge. Then for the first time was heard in his
soul the cry: “In the name of Christ!” He remembered then that Chilo
had ransomed himself from the hands of Ursus with such a cry, and he
determined to remit the remainder of the punishment.
With that object he was going to summon the dispensator, when that
person stood before him, and said,--“Lord, the old man has fainted, and
perhaps he is dead. Am I to command further flogging?”
“Revive him and bring him before me.”
The chief of the atrium vanished behind the curtain, but the revival
could not have been easy, for Vinicius waited a long time and was
growing impatient, when the slaves brought in Chilo, and disappeared at
a signal.
Chilo was as pale as linen, and down his legs threads of blood were
flowing to the mosaic pavement of the atrium. He was conscious, however,
and, falling on his knees, began to speak, with extended hands,--“Thanks
to thee, lord. Thou art great and merciful.”
“Dog,” said Vinicius, “know that I forgave thee because of that Christ
to whom I owe my own life.”
“O lord, I will serve Him and thee.”
“Be silent and listen. Rise! Thou wilt go and show me the house in which
Lygia dwells.”
Chilo sprang up; but he was barely on his feet when he grew more deathly
pale yet, and said in a failing voice,--“Lord, I am really hungry--I
will go, lord, I will go! but I have not the strength. Command to give
me even remnants from the plate of thy dog, and I will go.”
Vinicius commanded to give him food, a piece of gold, and a mantle. But
Chilo, weakened by stripes and hunger, could not go to take food, though
terror raised the hair on his head, lest Vinicius might mistake his
weakness for stubbornness and command to flog him anew.
“Only let wine warm me,” repeated he, with chattering teeth, “I shall be
able to go at once, even to Magna Græcia.”
He regained some strength after a time, and they went out.
The way was long, for, like the majority of Christians, Linus dwelt in
the Trans-Tiber, and not far from Miriam. At last Chilo showed Vinicius
a small house, standing apart, surrounded by a wall covered entirely
with ivy, and said,
“Here it is, lord.”
“Well,” said Vinicius, “go thy way now, but listen first to what I tell
thee. Forget that thou hast served me; forget where Miriam, Peter, and
Glaucus dwell; forget also this house, and all Christians. Thou wilt
come every month to my house, where Demas, my freedman, will pay thee
two pieces of gold. But shouldst thou spy further after Christians, I
will have thee flogged, or delivered into the hands of the prefect of
the city.”
Chilo bowed down, and said,--“I will forget.”
But when Vinicius vanished beyond the corner of the street, he stretched
his hands after him, and, threatening with his fists, exclaimed,--“By
Ate and the Furies! I will not forget!”
Then he grew faint again.
Chapter XXXIII
VINICIUS went directly to the house in which Miriam lived. Before the
gate he met Nazarius, who was confused at sight of him; but greeting the
lad cordially, he asked to be conducted to his mother’s lodgings.
Besides Miriam, Vinicius found Peter, Glaucus, Crispus, and Paul of
Tarsus, who had returned recently from Fregellæ. At sight of the young
tribune, astonishment was reflected on all faces; but he said,--“I greet
you in the name of Christ, whom ye honor.”
“May His name be glorified forever!” answered they.
“I have seen your virtue and experienced your kindness, hence I come as
a friend.”
“And we greet thee as a friend,” answered Peter. “Sit down, lord, and
partake of our refreshment, as a guest.”
“I will sit down and share your repast; but first listen to me, thou
Peter, and thou Paul of Tarsus, so that ye may know my sincerity. I know
where Lygia is. I have returned from before the house of Linus, which is
near this dwelling. I have a right to her given me by Cæsar. I have at
my houses in the city nearly five hundred slaves. I might surround her
hiding-place and seize her; still I have not done so, and will not.”
“For this reason the blessing of the Lord will be upon thee, and thy
heart will be purified,” said Peter.
“I thank thee. But listen to me further: I have not done so, though I am
living in suffering and sadness. Before I knew you, I should have
taken her undoubtedly, and held her by force; but your virtue and your
religion, though I do not profess it, have changed something in my soul,
so that I do not venture on violence. I know not myself why this is
so, but it is so; hence I come to you, for ye take the place of Lygia’s
father and mother, and I say to you: Give her to me as wife, and I swear
that not only will I not forbid her to confess Christ, but I will begin
myself to learn His religion.”
He spoke with head erect and decisively; but still he was moved, and his
legs trembled beneath his mantle. When silence followed his words, he
continued, as if wishing to anticipate an unfavorable answer,--
“I know what obstacles exist, but I love her as my own eyes; and though
I am not a Christian yet, I am neither your enemy nor Christ’s. I wish
to be sincere, so that you may trust me. At this moment it is a question
of life with me, still I tell you the truth. Another might say, Baptize
me; I say, Enlighten me. I believe that Christ rose from the dead,
for people say so who love the truth, and who saw Him after death. I
believe, for I have seen myself, that your religion produces virtue,
justice, and mercy,--not crime, which is laid to your charge. I have not
known your religion much so far. A little from you, a little from your
works, a little from Lygia, a little from conversations with you. Still
I repeat that it has made some change in me. Formerly I held my servants
with an iron hand; I cannot do so now. I knew no pity; I know it now. I
was fond of pleasure; the other night I fled from the pond of Agrippa,
for the breath was taken from me through disgust. Formerly I believed in
superior force; now I have abandoned it. Know ye that I do not recognize
myself. I am disgusted by feasts, wine, singing, citharæ, garlands, the
court of Cæsar, naked bodies, and every crime. When I think that Lygia
is like snow in the mountains, I love her the more; and when I think
that she is what she is through your religion, I love and desire that
religion. But since I understand it not, since I know not whether I
shall be able to live according to it, nor whether my nature can endure
it, I am in uncertainty and suffering, as if I were in prison.”