Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero
the hands of Vinicius drop. Vinicius stood before him shamefaced and
enraged.
“Thou hast a steel hand,” said he; “but if thou hast betrayed me, I
swear, by all the infernal gods, that I will thrust a knife into thy
body, though thou be in the chambers of Cæsar.”
“Let us talk calmly,” said Petronius. “Steel is stronger, as thou seest,
than iron; hence, though out of one of thy arms two as large as mine
might be made, I have no need to fear thee. On the contrary, I grieve
over thy rudeness, and if the ingratitude of men could astonish me yet,
I should be astonished at thy ingratitude.”
“Where is Lygia?”
“In a brothel,--that is, in the house of Cæsar.”
“Petronius!”
“Calm thyself, and be seated. I asked Cæsar for two things, which he
promised me,--first, to take Lygia from the house of Aulus, and second
to give her to thee. Hast thou not a knife there under the folds of thy
toga? Perhaps thou wilt stab me! But I advise thee to wait a couple of
days, for thou wouldst be taken to prison, and meanwhile Lygia would be
wearied in thy house.”
Silence followed. Vinicius looked for some time with astonished eyes on
Petronius; then he said,--“Pardon me; I love her, and love is disturbing
my faculties.”
“Look at me, Marcus. The day before yesterday I spoke to Cæsar as
follows: ‘My sister’s son, Vinicius, has so fallen in love with a lean
little girl who is being reared with the Auluses that his house is
turned into a steambath from sighs. Neither thou, O Cæsar, nor I--we who
know, each of us, what true beauty is--would give a thousand sesterces
for her; but that lad has ever been as dull as a tripod, and now he has
lost all the wit that was in him.’”
“Petronius!”
“If thou understand not that I said this to insure Lygia’s safety, I am
ready to believe that I told the truth. I persuaded Bronzebeard that a
man of his æsthetic nature could not consider such a girl beautiful; and
Nero, who so far has not dared to look otherwise than through my eyes,
will not find in her beauty, and, not finding it, will not desire her.
It was necessary to insure ourselves against the monkey and take him
on a rope. Not he, but Poppæa, will value Lygia now; and Poppæa will
strive, of course, to send the girl out of the palace at the earliest.
I said further to Bronzebeard, in passing: ‘Take Lygia and give her to
Vinicius! Thou hast the right to do so, for she is a hostage; and if
thou take her, thou wilt inflict pain on Aulus.’ He agreed; he had not
the least reason not to agree, all the more since I gave him a chance
to annoy decent people. They will make thee official guardian of the
hostage, and give into thy hands that Lygian treasure; thou, as a friend
of the valiant Lygians, and also a faithful servant of Cæsar, wilt not
waste any of the treasure, but wilt strive to increase it. Cæsar, to
preserve appearances, will keep her a few days in his house, and then
send her to thy insula. Lucky man!”
“Is this true? Does nothing threaten her there in Cæsar’s house?”
“If she had to live there permanently, Poppæa would talk about her to
Locusta, but for a few days there is no danger. Ten thousand people
live in it. Nero will not see her, perhaps, all the more since he left
everything to me, to the degree that just now the centurion was here
with information that he had conducted the maiden to the palace and
committed her to Acte. She is a good soul, that Acte; hence I gave
command to deliver Lygia to her. Clearly Pomponia Græcina is of that
opinion too, for she wrote to Acte. To-morrow there is a feast at
Nero’s. I have requested a place for thee at the side of Lygia.”
“Pardon me, Caius, my hastiness. I judged that thou hadst given command
to take her for thyself or for Cæsar.”
“I can forgive thy hastiness; but it is more difficult to forgive rude
gestures, vulgar shouts, and a voice reminding one of players at mora. I
do not like that style, Marcus, and do thou guard against it. Know that
Tigellinus is Cæsar’s pander; but know also that if I wanted the
girl for myself now, looking thee straight in the eyes, I would say,
‘Vinicius! I take Lygia from thee and I will keep her till I am tired of
her.”
Thus speaking, he began to look with his hazel eyes straight into the
eyes of Vinicius with a cold and insolent stare. The young man lost
himself completely.
“The fault is mine,” said he. “Thou art kind and worthy. I thank thee
from my whole soul. Permit me only to put one more question: Why didst
thou not have Lygia sent directly to my house?”
“Because Cæsar wishes to preserve appearances. People in Rome will talk
about this,--that we removed Lygia as a hostage. While they are talking,
she will remain in Cæsar’s palace. Afterward she will be removed quietly
to thy house, and that will be the end. Bronzebeard is a cowardly
cur. He knows that his power is unlimited, and still he tries to give
specious appearances to every act. Hast thou recovered to the degree of
being able to philosophize a little? More than once have I thought, Why
does crime, even when as powerful as Cæsar, and assured of being beyond
punishment, strive always for the appearances of truth, justice, and
virtue? Why does it take the trouble? I consider that to murder a
brother, a mother, a wife, is a thing worthy of some petty Asiatic king,
not a Roman Cæsar; but if that position were mine, I should not write
justifying letters to the Senate. But Nero writes. Nero is looking for
appearances, for Nero is a coward. But Tiberius was not a coward;
still he justified every step he took. Why is this? What a marvellous,
involuntary homage paid to virtue by evil! And knowest thou what strikes
me? This, that it is done because transgression is ugly and virtue
is beautiful. Therefore a man of genuine æsthetic feeling is also a
virtuous man. Hence I am virtuous. To-day I must pour out a little
wine to the shades of Protagoras, Prodicus, and Gorgias. It seems that
sophists too can be of service. Listen, for I am speaking yet. I took
Lygia from Aulus to give her to thee. Well. But Lysippus would have made
wonderful groups of her and thee. Ye are both beautiful; therefore my
act is beautiful, and being beautiful it cannot be bad. Marcus, here
sitting before thee is virtue incarnate in Caius Petronius! If Aristides
were living, it would be his duty to come to me and offer a hundred minæ
for a short treatise on virtue.”
But Vinicius, as a man more concerned with reality than with treatises
on virtue, replied,--“To-morrow I shall see Lygia, and then have her in
my house daily, always, and till death.”
“Thou wilt have Lygia, and I shall have Aulus on my head. He will summon
the vengeance of all the infernal gods against me. And if the beast
would take at least a preliminary lesson in good declamation! He will
blame me, however, as my former doorkeeper blamed my clients but him I
sent to prison in the country.”
“Aulus has been at my house. I promised to give him news of Lygia.”
“Write to him that the will of the ‘divine’ Cæsar is the highest law,
and that thy first son will bear the name Aulus. It is necessary that
the old man should have some consolation. I am ready to pray Bronzebeard
to invite him to-morrow to the feast. Let him see thee in the triclinium
next to Lygia.”
“Do not do that. I am sorry for them, especially for Pomponia.”
And he sat down to write that letter which took from the old general the
remnant of his hope.
Chapter VII
ONCE the highest heads in Rome inclined before Acte, the former favorite
of Nero. But even at that period she showed no desire to interfere in
public questions, and if on any occasion she used her influence over
the young ruler, it was only to implore mercy for some one. Quiet and
unassuming, she won the gratitude of many, and made no one her enemy.
Even Octavia was unable to hate her. To those who envied her she seemed
exceedingly harmless. It was known that she continued to love Nero with
a sad and pained love, which lived not in hope, but only in memories of
the time in which that Nero was not only younger and loving, but better.
It was known that she could not tear her thoughts and soul from those
memories, but expected nothing; since there was no real fear that Nero
would return to her, she was looked upon as a person wholly inoffensive,
and hence was left in peace. Poppæa considered her merely as a quiet
servant, so harmless that she did not even try to drive her from the
palace.
But since Cæsar had loved her once and dropped her without offence in a
quiet and to some extent friendly manner, a certain respect was retained
for her. Nero, when he had freed her, let her live in the palace, and
gave her special apartments with a few servants. And as in their time
Pallas and Narcissus, though freedmen of Claudius, not only sat
at feasts with Claudius, but also held places of honor as powerful
ministers, so she too was invited at times to Cæsar’s table. This was
done perhaps because her beautiful form was a real ornament to a
feast. Cæsar for that matter had long since ceased to count with any
appearances in his choice of company. At his table the most varied
medley of people of every position and calling found places. Among them
were senators, but mainly those who were content to be jesters as well.
There were patricians, old and young, eager for luxury, excess, and
enjoyment. There were women with great names, who did not hesitate to
put on a yellow wig of an evening and seek adventures on dark streets
for amusement’s sake. There were also high officials, and priests who
at full goblets were willing to jeer at their own gods. At the side of
these was a rabble of every sort: singers, mimes, musicians, dancers of
both sexes; poets who, while declaiming, were thinking of the
sesterces which might fall to them for praise of Cæsar’s verses; hungry
philosophers following the dishes with eager eyes; finally, noted
charioteers, tricksters, miracle-wrights, tale-tellers, jesters, and the
most varied adventurers brought through fashion or folly to a few days’
notoriety. Among these were not lacking even men who covered with long
hair their ears pierced in sign of slavery.
The most noted sat directly at the tables; the lesser served to amuse
in time of eating, and waited for the moment in which the servants would
permit them to rush at the remnants of food and drink. Guests of this
sort were furnished by Tigellinus, Vatinius, and Vitelius; for these
guests they were forced more than once to find clothing befitting the
chambers of Cæsar, who, however, liked their society, through feeling
most free in it. The luxury of the court gilded everything, and
covered all things with glitter. High and low, the descendants of great
families, and the needy from the pavements of the city, great artists,
and vile scrapings of talent, thronged to the palace to sate their
dazzled eyes with a splendor almost surpassing human estimate, and to
approach the giver of every favor, wealth, and property,--whose single
glance might abase, it is true, but might also exalt beyond measure.
That day Lygia too had to take part in such a feast. Fear, uncertainty,
and a dazed feeling, not to be wondered at after the sudden change, were
struggling in her with a wish to resist. She feared Nero; she feared the
people and the palace whose uproar deprived her of presence of mind;
she feared the feasts of whose shamelessness she had heard from Aulus,
Pomponia Græcina, and their friends. Though young, she was not without
knowledge, for knowledge of evil in those times reached even children’s
ears early. She knew, therefore, that ruin was threatening her in the
palace. Pomponia, moreover, had warned her of this at the moment of
parting. But having a youthful spirit, unacquainted with corruption, and