Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero
Here his brows met in wrinkle of pain, and a flush appeared on his
cheeks; after that he spoke on with growing haste and greater emotion,--
“As ye see, I am tortured from love and uncertainty. Men tell me that in
your religion there is no place for life, or human joy, or happiness, or
law, or order, or authority, or Roman dominion. Is this true? Men tell
me that ye are madmen; but tell me yourselves what ye bring. Is it a sin
to love, a sin to feel joy, a sin to want happiness? Are ye enemies of
life? Must a Christian be wretched? Must I renounce Lygia? What is truth
in your view? Your deeds and words are like transparent water, but what
is under that water? Ye see that I am sincere. Scatter the darkness.
Men say this to me also: Greece created beauty and wisdom, Rome created
power; but they--what do they bring? Tell, then, what ye bring. If there
is brightness beyond your doors, open them.”
“We bring love,” said Peter.
And Paul of Tarsus added,--“If I speak with the tongues of men and of
angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass.”
But the heart of the old Apostle was stirred by that soul in suffering,
which, like a bird in a cage, was struggling toward air and the sun;
hence, stretching his hand to Vinicius, he said,--“Whoso knocketh, to
him will be opened. The favor and grace of God is upon thee; for this
reason I bless thee, thy soul and thy love, in the name of the Redeemer
of mankind.”
Vinicius, who had spoken with enthusiasm already, sprang toward Peter on
hearing this blessing, and an uncommon thing happened. That descendant
of Quirites, who till recently had not recognized humanity in a
foreigner, seized the hand of the old Galilean, and pressed it in
gratitude to his lips.
Peter was pleased; for he understood that his sowing had fallen on an
additional field, that his fishing-net had gathered in a new soul.
Those present, not less pleased by that evident expression of honor for
the Apostle of God, exclaimed in one voice,--“Praise to the Lord in the
highest!”
Vinicius rose with a radiant face, and began,--“I see that happiness may
dwell among you, for I feel happy, and I think that ye can convince me
of other things in the same way. But I will add that this cannot happen
in Rome. Cæsar is going to Antium and I must go with him, for I have the
order. Ye know that not to obey is death. But if I have found favor in
your eyes, go with me to teach your truth. It will be safer for you than
for me. Even in that great throng of people, ye can announce your truth
in the very court of Cæsar. They say that Acte is a Christian; and there
are Christians among pretorians even, for I myself have seen soldiers
kneeling before thee, Peter, at the Nomentan gate. In Antium I have
a villa where we shall assemble to hear your teaching, at the side of
Nero. Glaucus told me that ye are ready to go to the end of the earth
for one soul; so do for me what ye have done for those for whose sake ye
have come from Judea,--do it, and desert not my soul.”
Hearing this, they began to take counsel, thinking with delight of the
victory of their religion, and of the significance for the pagan world
which the conversion of an Augustian, and a descendant of one of the
oldest Roman families, would have. They were ready, indeed, to wander
to the end of the earth for one human soul, and since the death of the
Master they had, in fact, done nothing else; hence a negative answer did
not even come to their minds. Peter was at that moment the pastor of a
whole multitude, hence he could not go; but Paul of Tarsus, who had been
in Aricium and Fregellæ not long before, and who was preparing for a
long journey to the East to visit churches there and freshen them with a
new spirit of zeal, consented to accompany the young tribune to Antium.
It was easy to find a ship there going to Grecian waters.
Vinicius, though sad because Peter, to whom he owed so much, could not
visit Antium, thanked him with gratitude, and then turned to the old
Apostle with his last request,--“Knowing Lygia’s dwelling,” said he, “I
might have gone to her and asked, as is proper, whether she would take
me as husband should my soul become Christian, but I prefer to ask thee,
O Apostle! Permit me to see her, or take me thyself to her. I know not
how long I shall be in Antium; and remember that near Cæsar no one
is sure of to-morrow. Petronius himself told me that I should not be
altogether safe there. Let me see her before I go; let me delight my
eyes with her; and let me ask her if she will forget my evil and return
good.”
Peter smiled kindly and said,--“But who could refuse thee a proper joy,
my son?”
Vinicius stooped again to Peter’s hands, for he could not in any way
restrain his overflowing heart. The Apostle took him by the temples and
said,--“Have no fear of Cæsar, for I tell thee that a hair will not fall
from thy head.”
He sent Miriam for Lygia, telling her not to say who was with them, so
as to give the maiden more delight.
It was not far; so after a short time those in the chamber saw among the
myrtles of the garden Miriam leading Lygia by the hand.
Vinicius wished to run forth to meet her; but at sight of that beloved
form happiness took his strength, and he stood with beating heart,
breathless, barely able to keep his feet, a hundred times more excited
than when for the first time in life he heard the Parthian arrows
whizzing round his head.
She ran in, unsuspecting; but at sight of him she halted as if fixed to
the earth. Her face flushed, and then became very pale; she looked with
astonished and frightened eyes on those present.
But round about she saw clear glances, full of kindness. The Apostle
Peter approached her and asked,--“Lygia, dost thou love him as ever?”
A moment of silence followed. Her lips began to quiver like those of
a child who is preparing to cry, who feels that it is guilty, but sees
that it must confess the guilt.
“Answer,” said the Apostle.
Then, with humility, obedience, and fear in her voice, she whispered,
kneeling at the knees of Peter,--“I do.”
In one moment Vinicius knelt at her side. Peter placed his hands on
their heads, and said,--“Love each other in the Lord and to His glory,
for there is no sin in your love.”
Chapter XXXIV
WHILE walking with Lygia through the garden, Vinicius described briefly,
in words from the depth of his heart, that which a short time before
he had confessed to the Apostles,--that is, the alarm of his soul,
the changes which had taken place in him, and, finally, that immense
yearning which had veiled life from him, beginning with the hour when
he left Miriam’s dwelling. He confessed to Lygia that he had tried to
forget her, but was not able. He thought whole days and nights of her.
That little cross of boxwood twigs which she had left reminded him
of her,--that cross, which he had placed in the lararium and revered
involuntarily as something divine. And he yearned more and more
every moment, for love was stronger than he, and had seized his soul
altogether, even when he was at the house of Aulus. The Parcæ weave the
thread of life for others; but love, yearning, and melancholy had woven
it for him. His acts had been evil, but they had their origin in love.
He had loved her when she was in the house of Aulus, when she was on the
Palatine, when he saw her in Ostrianum listening to Peter’s words, when
he went with Croton to carry her away, when she watched at his bedside,
and when she deserted him. Then came Chilo, who discovered her dwelling,
and advised him to seize her a second time; but he chose to punish
Chilo, and go to the Apostles to ask for truth and for her. And blessed
be that moment in which such a thought came to his head, for now he is
at her side, and she will not flee from him, as the last time she fled
from the house of Miriam.
“I did not flee from thee,” said Lygia.
“Then why didst thou go?”
She raised her iris-colored eyes to him, and, bending her blushing face,
said,--“Thou knowest--”
Vinicius was silent for a moment from excess of happiness, and began
again to speak, as his eyes were opened gradually to this,--that she
was different utterly from Roman women, and resembled Pomponia alone.
Besides, he could not explain this to her clearly, for he could not
define his feeling,--that beauty of a new kind altogether was coming
to the world in her, such beauty as had not been in it thus far; beauty
which is not merely a statue, but a spirit. He told her something,
however, which filled her with delight,--that he loved her just because
she had fled from him, and that she would be sacred to him at his
hearth. Then, seizing her hand, he could not continue; he merely gazed
on her with rapture as on his life’s happiness which he had won, and
repeated her name, as if to assure himself that he had found her and was
near her.
“Oh, Lygia, Lygia!”
At last he inquired what had taken place in her mind, and she confessed
that she had loved him while in the house of Aulus, and that if he had
taken her back to them from the Palatine she would have told them of her
love and tried to soften their anger against him.
“I swear to thee,” said Vinicius, “that it had not even risen in my mind
to take thee from Aulus. Petronius will tell thee sometime that I told
him then how I loved and wished to marry thee. ‘Let her anoint my door
with wolf fat, and let her sit at my hearth,’ said I to him. But he
ridiculed me, and gave Cæsar the idea of demanding thee as a hostage and
giving thee to me. How often in my sorrow have I cursed him; but
perhaps fate ordained thus, for otherwise I should not have known the
Christians, and should not have understood thee.”
“Believe me, Marcus,” replied Lygia, “it was Christ who led thee to
Himself by design.”
Vinicius raised his head with a certain astonishment.
“True,” answered he, with animation. “Everything fixed itself so
marvellously that in seeking thee I met the Christians. In Ostrianum I
listened to the Apostle with wonder, for I had never heard such words.
And there thou didst pray for me?”
“I did,” answered Lygia.
They passed near the summer-house covered with thick ivy, and approached
the place where Ursus, after stifling Croton, threw himself upon
Vinicius.
“Here,” said the young man, “I should have perished but for thee.”
“Do not mention that,” answered Lygia, “and do not speak of it to
Ursus.”
“Could I be revenged on him for defending thee? Had he been a slave, I
should have given him freedom straightway.”
“Had he been a slave, Aulus would have freed him long ago.”
“Dost thou remember,” asked Vinicius, “that I wished to take thee back
to Aulus, but the answer was, that Cæsar might hear of it and take
revenge on Aulus and Pomponia? Think of this: thou mayst see them now as
often as thou wishest.”
“How, Marcus?”
“I say ‘now,’ and I think that thou wilt be able to see them without
danger, when thou art mine. For should Cæsar hear of this, and ask what
I did with the hostage whom he gave me, I should say ‘I married her, and
she visits the house of Aulus with my consent.’ He will not remain long
in Antium, for he wishes to go to Achæa; and even should he remain, I
shall not need to see him daily. When Paul of Tarsus teaches me your
faith, I will receive baptism at once, I will come here, gain the
friendship of Aulus and Pomponia, who will return to the city by that
time, and there will be no further hindrance, I will seat thee at my
hearth. Oh, carissima! carissima!”
And he stretched forth his hand, as if taking Heaven as witness of his
love; and Lygia, raising her clear eyes to him, said,--
“And then I shall say, ‘Wherever thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.’”
“No, Lygia,” cried Vinicius, “I swear to thee that never has woman been