 Part 1 Chapter 11 of Quo Vadis, A Tale of the Time of Nero. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Quo Vadis by Henrik Sinkiewicz, translated by Benion Antmelevski. Part 1 Chapter 11. Vinicius swat not his couch that night. Some time after the departure of Petronius, as the groans of the slaves undergoing flagellation could appease neither his grief nor his anger, he collected a crowd of other slaves, and though it was late at night he led them forth in search of Ligia. He searched the Esquiline district, the Sabura, the criminal quarter, and all the adjoining by-lanes. Then, passing the capital, he crossed the bridge of Fabricius to the island, and thence passed hurriedly through the trans-Tiber district. But search was in vain. He himself had little hope of finding Ligia, only he felt he must do something during that terrible night. He returned home at daybreak, when the carts and mules of the vegetable dealers had already appeared in the streets, and when bakers were opening their shops. On his return he ordered the removal of Gullo's corpse, which nobody had dared to touch. The slaves who had escorted Ligia he sent to rural dungeons, a punishment considered more terrible even than death. Throwing himself at last on a couch in the Banqueting Hall, he pondered confused plans of how he could find and seize Ligia. He could not bear the thought that he would not see Ligia again. The very idea threw him into a frenzy, imperious by nature, the young soldier, for the first time in his life, met resistance, met another unyielding will, and he could not understand how anyone could dare to thwart his desires. Venicius would rather the entire world should perish, and Rome fall into ruins than that he should fail to attain the object of his desires. The cup of joy had been snatched from his lips, therefore it seemed to him that an unprecedented something had happened, something that cried aloud for vengeance to all laws, divine and human. He could not reconcile himself to fate. Never in his life had he desired anything so keenly as Ligia. He felt that he could not live without her. He could not imagine what he would do on the morrow without her, how he could survive the days that were to come. At times he was transported by fits of rage against her. He wanted to possess her, to drag her by the hair to his bedroom, and there to gloat over her, and then again his heart was stirred by a yearning for her form, her eyes, her voice, and he felt that he would gladly fall at her feet. He called to her, he nodded his fingers, he clasped his head with his hands. He strove to compel himself to think calmly about continuing his search, but he could not. A thousand plans flitted through his head, one more foolish than the other, then it occurred to him that it must have been Aulus who had rescued the maiden, and that Aulus must know where she was concealed. He sprang up to rush off at once to the house of Aulus. If Aulus would not return Ligia to him, if he did not fear his threats, then he would go to Caesar, accuse the old general of disobedience, and prevail upon Nero to condemn him to death. Not previous to this, he would compel the old man to reveal Ligia's hiding-place. Even if she were returned voluntarily, he would be revenged. True he had been sheltered in the house of Aulus, he had been taken care of, but what of that? This insult had freed him from his debt of gratitude. In imagination the young tribune reveled in the despair of Pomponia when the Centurion should bring the death sentence to old Aulus. He was certain that he could secure it, Petronius would assist him, besides Caesar denied nothing to his intimates, the Augustalis, unless the request were antagonistic to his own desires or wishes. Suddenly his heart almost died within him under the influence of a terrible thought. Suppose Caesar himself had taken Ligia. It was generally known that Caesar, to relieve his ennui, sought amusement by making knight attacks, even Petronius used to take a hand in them. The main object of these escapades was to seize women and toss them on a soldier's blanket until they lost consciousness. Caesar at times called these adventurers pearl hunts, for it sometimes happened that in densely populated districts they found a real pearl of youth and beauty. Then the sagacio, the term for this sport, was turned into an actual carrying off. The pearl was sent either to the Palatine palace or to one of Caesar's numerous villas, or else Caesar presented the jewel to one of his intimates. Such a fate might have befallen Ligia. Caesar had seen her at the feast. Venetius had no doubt that he must have thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. It was all clear enough now. True, Ligia had been in the Palatine palace, and Caesar might have kept her openly. But Caesar, as Petronius truly said, had no courage in wrongdoing. Having the power to act openly, he preferred to do his ill deeds in secret. In this case fear lest he should betray himself to Papilla had probably influenced him to act secretly. It now occurred to Venetius that Aulus and Pomponia would not have dared to rescue the girl given to him by Caesar, who indeed would dare to do this. Would that gigantic Ligian who had entered the banquet hall and had boldly taken her from the feast on his arm? But where could he hide her? No, a slave could not have done this deed. Hence no one had taken Ligia except Caesar himself. At this thought darkness fell about his eyes and his forehead was bedewed with sweat. If this be the case, then Ligia was lost to him forever. It was possible for him to rest her from the hands of any one else, but not from those of Caesar. Now with all the more reason he could exclaim, Whoa! Whoa! Beyond to me! His imagination, allowing him no rest, pictured Ligia in the arms of Nero, and for the first time in his life he comprehended that there are thoughts that are beyond human endurance. Ligia's image haunted his mind as the past flashes through the memory of a drowning man. Ligia saw her, and heard every word that she uttered, saw her at the fountain, at the house of Aulus, at the banquet. Again he felt her presence, the fragrance of her hair, the warmth of her body, the sweetness of the kisses which he had imprinted upon her innocent lips. She appeared to him a hundredfold more beautiful than ever, more desirable and dearer to his heart, surpassing all mortal women and all goddesses. And when he thought that all that had been so deeply stirred in his heart, and had become mingled with his very blood and life, was now possessed by Nero, he was seized with a purely physical pain, so terrible that he wished to dash his brains out against the walls of the chamber. He felt that he was losing his mind, and he would surely have gone mad but for the hope of vengeance. Hitherto he had thought that he could not live without Ligia, now he was determined that he would not die until he had avenged her. He found relief in this thought, I will be thy Cassius, O Caesar! He repeated to himself, addressing Nero in his mind. After a time he dug his hands into a flower-pot, and squeezing a handful of earth together, he vowed to Erebus, Hikati, and his household lorries that he would avenge the spiriting away of Ligia. And he was in a measure consoled. Now at least he had something to live for, something with which to occupy his days and nights, abandoning his intention of visiting Aulus. Cassius gave orders that he should be born to the Palatine. On the way he decided that should he not be admitted to Caesar's presence, or should they search him for concealed weapons, it would be a proof that Caesar had carried away Ligia. He took no weapon with him. He had lost his usual presence of mind in general, yet, as is not uncommon with people possessed by a single idea, he retained it in all things which concerned his revenge. He acted with great haste in order that his thirst for vengeance should not weaken before he had slaked it. He desired above everything to see Actia, for from her he hoped to learn the truth. At times also he was consoled with the hope that he might see Ligia, and this thought made him tremble. If Caesar had taken her from the slaves, not knowing who she was, he might return her to him on that day. But he soon threw aside this idea. Had Caesar wished to return her to him, he would have sent her on the previous evening. Actia alone could explain everything to him. He would go to her, first of all. Having determined on this course of action, he commanded his litter-bearers to make all speed. On the way his thoughts were disconnected, dwelling now on Ligia, now on his plans for revenge, he had heard that priests of the Egyptian goddess Pach could bring on disease as they pleased, and he determined to learn their secret from them. In the Orient he had been informed also that the Jews knew certain invocations by means of which they covered the bodies of their enemies with ulcers. In his household he had about a score of Jewish slaves. He decided that on his return he would have them flogged until they gave up the secret. But with a special delight he thought of the short Roman sword which let out streams of blood, such as had run from Caesculigula, and left indelible stains on the columns of the portico. He was ready to bathe all Rome in blood. Had some revengeful gods promised him to destroy all mankind save himself and Ligia, he would even have agreed to that. In front of the arch of the Palatine Palace he recovered his presence of mind. At sight of the Praetorian guards he thought that if they tried even in the slightest way to detain him that this would be a proof that Ligia was in the palace by the will of Caesar. To his surprise the chief centurion smiled at him in a friendly way, and approaching him said, Greetings noble tribune, if thou desire an audience with Caesar thou hast chosen an inopportune time, I do not think that thou will be able to see him. What has happened, asked Venetius, the divine little Augusta was suddenly taken ill yesterday. Caesar and Poppia are at her bedside with physicians whom they have summoned from all parts of the city. This was a matter of importance. When the infant was born Caesar had become almost insane from joy and received her with divine honors, even before the birth the senate had solemnly committed it to the guardianship of the gods. After the birth splendid games were celebrated and a temple was erected to the two fortunes. Nero, extreme in everything, loved the child beyond measure. It was dear also to Poppia, if only for this reason, that it strengthened her position and made her influence irresistible. On the health and life of this infant might depend the fate of the whole empire, but Venetius was so carried away with his love that paying no attention to the news he answered, I only wish to see Actia. But Actia also was in attendance upon the child, and Venetius had to wait long before seeing her. She came only about noon, with a pale and weary face, which paled still more at the sight of Venetius. Actia cried he, seizing her hand and drawing her to the middle of the room, where is Ligia? I was going to ask thee concerning her, she answered reproachfully. Though he had determined to question her calmly, Venetius now clasped his head in his hands, while his face grew distorted with grief and anger, and he said, she has disappeared, she was seized on the way to my house. Then he grew calmer, and bringing his face close to Actia's he hissed through his teeth, Actia, if thy life is dear to thee, if thou desirest not to be the cause of unimaginable misfortunes, tell me the truth, did Caesar take her? Caesar was not away from the palace yesterday. By the shade of thy mother, in the name of all the gods, is she not hidden in the palace? Marcus by the shade of my mother she is not in the palace, and Caesar did not take her, the infant Augusta has been sick since yesterday, and Caesar has not left her cradle. Venetius breathed more freely, what had seemed to him the most terrible of possibilities was removed from his path. Ben, said he, sitting on the bench and clenching his fists, our son Pomponia have taken her, woe to them! Marcus Plotius was here this morning, I could not see him because I was busy with the infant, but he made inquiries of Epaphroditus and other servants of the palace concerning Ligia and told them that he would come again to see me. He wished to avert suspicion from himself. If he really knew not what had become of Ligia he would have sought her in my house. He left a few words for me on a tablet, these will show thee that Aulus, knowing Caesar had taken Ligia from him at the request of thy self and of Petronius, feared that the maiden had been sent to thy house. This morning he went there and was informed of what had happened. With these words Actia went to the bedroom and returned with the tablet which Aulus had left for her. Venetius read it and became silent, Actia guessing his thoughts from the gloomy expression of his face said, No, Marcus, what Ligia herself desired has happened. Did thou know that she desired to escape? exclaimed Venetius wrathfully, fixing her sad eyes upon him she answered almost sternly, I knew that she would not become thy concubine, and thou, what hast thou been all thy life? I was first of all a slave. But the anger of Venetius could not be calmed. Caesar had given Ligia to him. Consequently he did not need to inquire what had been her previous condition. He would find her even if she were hidden in the bowels of the earth, and he would do what he pleased with her. She should be his slave. He would have her flogged as often as he pleased. When he ceased to love her he would bestow her on the lowest of his slaves, or he would send her to turn a handmill on his African estates. He would begin his search for her at once, and find her that he might punish her, that he might trample upon her and compel her obedience. As his anger grew he placed no limits to his vengeance, so that even Actia perceived that he was threatening more than he could perform under the influence of anger and despair. She would probably have felt pity for his sufferings had not his extravagant rage exhausted her patience, so that at last she inquired why he had come to her. Vinicius did not find an immediate answer. He had come to her because he had wanted to come, because he thought she would give him some information. But really he had come to see Caesar, but not being admitted to him he had asked for her. Ligia's flight had been disobedience to the will of Caesar, therefore he would petition Nero to give command that she should be sought over the whole city and over the entire empire, even if this entailed the aid of all the legions and the searching of every house throughout the empire. Petronius would support this petition and the search would begin at once. Beware, said Actia, lest when she is found thou lose her forever at the command of Caesar. What dost thou mean? Vinicius asked, with wrinkled brows. Listen to me, Marcus. Yesterday I was walking with Ligia in the gardens. We met Popia with the infant Augusta, born by the Egyptian Lilith. At evening the infant fell ill. Lilith declares that the child was bewitched. She accuses the foreign woman whom they met in the gardens. If the child recovers they will forget all about this, but if not Popia will be the first to accuse Ligia of witchcraft, and then whenever she is found nothing can save her. There was a moment of silence, which Vinicius was the first to break. But she did bewitch the child, and has bewitched me. Lilith says that the child began to cry immediately after she had passed us. This is true, in fact. No doubt the child was ill when they brought it into the garden. Marcus search for Ligia wherever thou pleasest, but until the little one recovers mention not her name to Caesar, or thou will bring down upon her the vengeance of Popia. Her eyes have shed tears enough already on thy account. May all the gods protect her now. As thou love her, Actia, asked Vinicius sadly, tears sprang to the eyes of the freedwoman. Yes, I love her, but she did not repay thee with hatred as she did me. Actia looked at him as if hesitating, or as if she wished to test his sincerity. Then she said, Oh, blind and passionate man, she loved thee! Vinicius sprang up as if possessed. That is false! He said she hates me. How could Actia know? It was hardly possible that Ligia, after one day's acquaintance, would make such a confession to her. What kind of love was that which would prefer wandering poverty, the uncertainty of the morrow, perhaps even a shameful death to a house bedecked with green wreaths, where a lover was in waiting with a banquet all prepared? Better he should not hear such words lest he go mad. He would not have exchanged the girl for all the treasures of the Palatine, and she had fled. What kind of love was that that feared delight and courted pain? Who could understand it? Who could explain it? But for his hope of finding her he would fall upon his sword. Love surrenders, it does not run away. There were moments in the house of Aulis when he felt that happiness was near, but now he was convinced that she hated him, and would die with that hatred in her heart. Actia, naturally gentle and timid, now burst forth with indignant reproaches. How had he tried to win the love of Ligia? Instead of asking Aulis and Pomponia to give her to him, he had taken her away from her guardians by stealth. He wished not to make her his wife but his concubine, she, the foster daughter of an honorable family and the daughter of a king. He had brought her to an abode of vice and infamy. He had defiled her innocent eyes with the spectacle of a shameful orgy. He had treated her as a harlot. Had he forgotten what sort of man was Aulis and what sort of woman Pomponia, they who had brought up Ligia? Had he not wit enough to understand that women existed quite different from Nigeria or Calvia, Crispinilla or Papilla? And from all those whom he met in Caesar's house, had not a conviction forced itself upon his mind at his first sight of Ligia that so pure a soul would prefer death to shame? Did he not know that the gods she worshipped were better and purer than the Disalute Venus or Isis, who were honored by the corrupt women of Rome? No, Ligia had made no confession to her, but she had said that she hoped Vinicius would save her. She hoped Caesar, through Vinicius's petition, would allow her to return home. She hoped that Vinicius would restore her to Pomponia. While speaking, Ligia had become confused as a maiden who loves and trusts. Her heart had beat for him, but he had terrified her and made her indignant. And now let him seek for her with the aid of Caesar's cohorts, but let him know that should Nero's child die, suspicion must fall upon her, and her ruin would be inevitable. In spite of his rage and pain what Actia had said affected Vinicius, her assurance that Ligia loved him thrilled him to the very soul. He recalled how she had blushed and how her eyes had become radiant with light when she had listened to his words in the house of Aulus. Yes, at that time love was touching her heart. The thought filled him with delight, and then he saw that he might have won her through peaceful means and had possessed himself of her heart. She might have put twine on his door, rubbed it with wolf's fat, and sat as his wife on a sheepskin by his hearth. He might have heard from her lips the words sanctioned by custom, where thou art caiss, there am I caia. And she might have belonged to him for ever. Why had he not acted thus? Did he not wish to marry her? Now that she had gone, now that he might never find her, or finding her might cause her ruin, or even if he did not bring ruin upon her, neither Ligia nor Aulus might listen to his proposals. Then anger seized him. But it was now turned not against Aulus or Pomponia or Ligia, but against Petronius. He was the one at fault. Had it not been for him Ligia would not be wandering about now. She would be his bride, and no danger would threaten her life. Now all was over. Matters could no longer be mended. Now it was too late. An abyss seemed to yawn at his feet. What was he to do? What measure could he take? Like an echo, Actii repeated the words, too late. Falling from another's lips they sounded like a death sentence. One thing, however, was certain. He must find Ligia, otherwise some terrible evil would befall him. Mechanically wrapping himself in his toga he was on the point of leaving without even bidding farewell to Actii, when suddenly the curtain that separated the vestibule from the hall was thrust aside, and he saw before him the sad face of Pomponia. Suddenly she also had heard of Ligia's disappearance and, judging that she could easily gain admittance to Actii, she had come for information. Seeing Vinicius she turned toward him her pale delicate face and exclaimed, Marcus, may God forgive thee the wrong thou hast done to us and to Ligia! He hung his head, feeling both unhappy and guilty, yet not understanding what God was to forgive nor why Pomponia spoke of forgiveness when she ought to have spoken of revenge. At length he departed, tormented by sad thoughts, despair and perplexity. In the courtyard and in the gallery were crowds of people, mingled with slaves of the palace where knights and senators come to inquire after the health of the little Augusta, and at the same time to show themselves in the palace and give a proof of their devotion in the presence of Caesar's slaves. The news of the illness of the little divinity had evidently spread quickly, for every moment visitors arrived, and through the archways crowds of people could be seen. Some of the recent arrivals noticing Vinicius coming out of the palace stopped him for news, but he hurried on without answering them, until he ran against Patronius. Doubtless Vinicius would have been seized with rage at the sight of Patronius and committed some unlawful act in Caesar's palace. Were it not that when he had left Actii his chamber he was so crushed and humiliated that for the moment his innate irascibility had left him, Vinicius pushed Patronius aside and was about to continue his way, but the latter detained him. How fares the divine infant? This forcible detention aroused anew the anger of Vinicius. May hell swallow her and all this house, he hissed through his teeth. Be silent, unhappy man, said Patronius, and looking about he hastily added, if thou desirest to learn something about Ligia, follow me. No, I will say nothing here. Follow me. I will explain my surmises in the litter. Placing his arm about the young man he led him out of the palace as quickly as possible. This was his aim, for he had no news whatever about Ligia. But as a man of resources who in spite of yesterday's indignation felt compassion for Vinicius, together with a certain responsibility for what had happened, he had taken some measures already. When they were seated in the litter, he said, I have ordered my slaves to watch at every gate, giving them minute descriptions of the maiden and of that giant who carried her out from Caesar's feast, for doubtless he is the one who recaptured her from thy slaves. Harken, Aulus and Pomponia may have wished to hide her away on one of their estates. If so, we will find in what direction she was conducted. If she passes none of the gates, then this will be proof that she is still in the city, and we will begin to search for her in Rome to-day. Aulus and Pomponia know not where she is, answered Vinicius, are thou sure of this? I have seen Pomponia, and she also is searching for her. She could not have left the city yesterday, for the gates are closed at night. Two of my slaves are watching each gate. One is to follow Ligia and the giant, and the other is to return immediately and inform me. If she be in Rome, we shall find her, for the Ligian can easily be recognized by his height and the breadth of his shoulders. It is lucky that she was not carried away by Caesar. I can assure you that it was not he, for I knew all the secrets of the palace. Vinicius broke out rather in sorrow than in anger. In a voice broken by emotion, he told Patronius all he had heard from Actia. He explained the new dangers which threatened Ligia, that now, in case they found her, they must needs hide her from Pompia. Then he reproached Patronius bitterly for his advice. Had it not been for him, everything would have been well. Ligia would have been in the house of Aulus, Vinicius could have seen her every day, and he would now be a happier man than Caesar. Carried away by his own words, he became more and more agitated, until at last tears of sorrow and anger coursed down his cheeks. Patronius, who had not thought the young tribune capable of such passion, beholding his tears, said to himself with wonder, O mighty sovereign of Cyprus, thou alone art the ruler of gods and men. CHAPTER XII When they alighted before the house of Patronius, the chief of the hall informed him that none of the slaves sent to the gates had as yet returned. He had given orders that food should be brought them, and that on the penalty of a flogging they should carefully watch all who left the city. See, said Patronius, they are still within the city, and we cannot fail to find them. Give orders to thy slaves also that they watch the city gates, selecting those especially who formed Ligia's escort, for they will easily recognize her. I have given orders that those slaves should be sent to my country estates, answered Venicius, but I will recall my orders and send them to the gates. When he had written a few words on a tablet covered with wax, he handed the tablet to Patronius, who ordered it sent immediately to the house of Venicius. Then they entered the inner portico, and sitting on a marble bench began to converse. The golden-haired Eunice and Iris placed bronze footstools beneath their feet, and moving a table near the bench, poured wine into goblets out of beautiful, long-necked jars imported from Volaterai and Caesina. Do any of thy slaves know this gigantic Ligian, asked Patronius? Only Atacinas and Gullo knew him, but Atacinas was killed beside the litter, and I slew Gullo. I am sorry for him, said Patronius. He carried in his arms not only thee, but me also. I was going to free him, replied Venicius, but let that rest, let us speak of Ligia. Whom is a sea? A sea is a place in which to find pearls. We shall not find her to-day, of course, nor to-morrow, but sooner or later we shall find her. Just now thou didst reproach me for having advised thee to take the course which thou didst, but the advice in itself was good. It became bad because of unfavorable circumstances. Besides, thou thyself hast heard from Aulus that he intends to go to Sicily with all his family, so Ligia would in any event have been far away from thee. I should have followed her, replied Venicius, and in any case she would have been out of danger, but now if this infant dies, Popiah will believe, and will persuade Caesar to believe that Ligia caused the death. True, this thought has alarmed me also, but the little doll may get well. If it dies we shall find some means of escape. Patronius, after a moment's thought, added, Popiah it is said believes in the faith of the Jews and in evil spirits. Caesar is superstitious. If we spread the rumor that Ligia has been carried away by evil spirits it will be believed, since neither Caesar nor Aulus have carried her off. Therefore it will be believed that she was spirited away. The Ligian could not have rescued her alone. It is evident that others helped him, but how could a slave collect so many people in a day? In Rome slaves help one another, but someone pays for it with blood. True, they help one another, but not when it is against the interest of other slaves. On this occasion it was known that your slaves would be held responsible and punished. If thou give thy slaves the idea of evil spirits they will assert that they saw them with their own eyes, for this would justify them before thee. Ask any one of them if he did not see Ligia born through the air, and he will swear at once by the aegis of Zeus that this was just what happened. Venicius, who was himself superstitious, looked with awe at Patronius and said, if Ursus could not get slaves to help him, and was not able to take her alone, who did take her? Patronius laughed. See, said he, how can they disbelieve if thou believest? Such is our world which laughs at the gods. All will believe and cease searching for her, and meantime we will hide her in one of our villas. But who could have helped her? Her co-religionists, answered Patronius. What co-religionists? What deity do they worship? I ought to know better than thou. Nearly every Roman woman worships a different deity. Doubtless Pomponia has brought up Ligia to worship the deity which she adores. But what deity this is, I do not know. One thing is certain, no one has seen her make offerings to any god in our temples. She has been accused even of being a Christian, but this is not possible. A secret investigation cleared her from this charge. It is said that Christians not only worship the head of an ass, but that they are enemies of the human race, and that they revel in the most terrible crimes. Consequently, Pomponia cannot be a Christian, for she is a good woman. Were she a hater of humanity, she would not treat her slaves so kindly. In no house are they so well treated as in that of Aulus, answered Vinesius. Pomponia told me of a god who was one powerful and merciful. What she has done with all the other gods is her affair. But this logos of hers cannot be very powerful, or rather he must be a poor kind of god if he is worshipped only by Pomponia and Ligia and Ursus. It may be that there are more adherents of this god and they assisted Ligia. Their faith commands forgiveness, said Vinesius. In Actia's chamber I met Pomponia, and she said to me, may God forgive you the wrong you have done to Ligia and to us. Evidently, their god is a very mild being. Let him forgive thee then, and as a sign of his forgiveness, let him restore the maiden to thee. I would offer him a hecatome to-morrow. I have desire neither for food nor sleep nor for the bath. I shall put on dark raiment and wander through the city. Perhaps I shall find her in disguise. I am sick. Patronius gazed at him compassionately. There were dark streaks beneath the eyes of Vinesius. His pupils were bright with fever. His unshaven beard made a bluish shade over his jaw. His hair was disordered. He looked indeed like a sick man. Iris and the golden-haired Eunice gazed at him also with commiseration, but he seemed not to notice them. Neither he nor Patronius paid any more attention to the presence of the slave-women than if they were dogs moving about the room. Thou art feverish, said Patronius. Yes. Harken! I know not what a physician would prescribe for thee, but I know what I would do in thy place. Till Ligia is found I would replace the lost one with a substitute. I have seen beautiful women in thy house. Contradict me not. I know what love is, and I know that if love is provoked by one woman another cannot satisfy it. Nevertheless, a beautiful slave will afford at least a temporary distraction. I do not wish it," replied Vinesius. But Patronius, who was sincerely attached to him, and who was anxious to relieve his suffering, began to consider how this might best be done. Perhaps thy slaves do not possess for thee the charm of novelty, said he. He glanced first at Iris and then at Eunice. At last he laid his hand on the hip of the golden-haired Grecian and resumed, "'Look at this nymph! But a few days ago the young Fontaeus Capitan offered for her three beautiful boys from Clasomeme. Scopus himself has not chiseled a more beautiful form. I cannot tell why I have been cold to her since thoughts of Chrysothomus have not restrained me. Here, I give her to thee, take her.' When the golden-haired Eunice heard these words, she grew white as a sheet. Having with frightened eyes at Vinesius, she seemed to be numbed while she awaited his answer. But the young soldier sprang up from the bench, and pressing his temples with his hands, began to speak hurriedly, as a man who, tormented by pain, does not wish to listen to any soothing words. "'No, no, I do not care for her. I do not care for any other woman. I thank thee, but I do not want her. I am going to search for Ligia throughout the city. Have a garlic cloak with a hood brought to me. I shall go to the trans-Tiber. Oh, if I can succeed merely in seeing Ursus!' Then he withdrew hurriedly, Petronius, seeing that he could not stay still in any one place, did not attempt to detain him, taking his refusal as a manifestation of a temporary aversion for all women except Ligia, but wishing still to be generous, he said, turning to Eunice, "'Eunice, bathe thyself, anoint thy body with perfumes, then dress and go to the house of Vinesius.' The Grecian woman fell on her knees and, stretching out her hands, implored him not to send her away from his house. She would not go to Vinesius. She would prefer to carry wood to the furnaces of the baths of Petronius than to be the chief servant in that of Vinesius. She would not. She could not go. She implored him for pity. Let him have her flogged daily, but let him not send her away from his house.' Trimbling like a leaf with fear and excitement, Eunice extended her imploring hands to Petronius who listened with astonishment. A slave woman who dared to answer a command with a prayer, declaring, I will not and I cannot, was something so unheard of in Rome that Petronius could not believe his ears. Finally he frowned. He was too refined to be cruel. He gave more freedom to his slaves than other masters, demanding only that they should render good service and honor his will like that of a god. But if his slaves violated either of these requirements, Petronius had them punished in the usual fashion. Besides, he could not endure opposition or anything that ruffled his peace of mind, so he looked at the kneeling slave and said, Call Thereseus and return with him. She arose, trembling with tears in her eyes, and retired, returning soon with the chief of the hall servants, the Cretan Thereseus. Take Eunice, said Petronius, and give her twenty-five lashes, but in such a way as not to disfigure her skin. When he went into his library, and sitting at the rose-colored marble table, he commenced work on his Feast of Trimalchion. But Ligia's escape and the illness of the little Augusta distracted his thoughts so much that he did not work long. The important question at present was the illness of the infant. Petronius saw that if Caesar believed Ligia to have bewitched the young Augusta, the blame might fall on him also, for the maiden had been brought to the palace at his request. But he hoped that as soon as he saw Caesar he would convince him of the absurdity of such a supposition. He relied somewhat also on a certain weakness which Papilla had for him, a weakness which she had not succeeded in concealing from him. After a time he shrugged his shoulders, having convinced himself that his fears were groundless, and he decided to take his meal in the dining-hall. After that he would go in his litter to the palace, next to the campus Martius, and finally to Chrysothamus. On his way to the dining-hall, at the entrance to the corridor assigned to the slaves, Petronius noticed the shapely figure of Eunice. Forgetting that he had given no order to Tiresias beyond that of flogging her, he frowned and looked around for that official. Not seeing Tiresias among the slaves, he turned to Eunice. "'Hast thou been flogged?' "'Yes, master, I have been flogged, oh yes, master!' Joy and gratitude blended in her voice. She evidently thought that the punishment had been given in place of sending her away from the house, and that now she might remain. Petronius, seeing this, marveled at the passionate resistance of the slave. He was too deep a student in human nature not to understand that only love could call forth such resistance. "'Hast thou loved someone in this house?' She looked at him with her blue eyes dim with tears, and answered in a voice so low that it could scarcely be heard. "'Yes, master!' Eunice, with her wonderful eyes, with her golden hair flowing down her back, with an expression of hope and fear upon her face, was so beautiful that Petronius, who, as a philosopher, recognized the power of love, and as an estate rendered homage to all beauty, felt pity for the slave. "'Whom of these does thou love?' he inquired, turning towards the slaves. No answer came. Eunice bent her head down to his very feet, and remained motionless as a statue. Petronius looked around at the slaves, among whom were some beautiful and shapely youths. None of the faces explained anything to him. He saw only strange smiles. He looked again at Eunice, who was lying at his feet, and then went on in silence to the dining-hall. When he had eaten he gave orders that he should be carried to the palace, and from there to Chrysothomus, where he remained until late in the night. On his return he summoned Tiresius. "'Didst thou punish, Eunice?' "'Yes, master, but thou didst command me not to disfigure her skin. "'Did I give any other command?' "'No, master,' answered the slave with alarm. "'Very good. Whom of the slaves does she love?' "'None, master. What does thou know about her?' Tiresius answered in an uncertain voice. "'Eunice does not leave the bedroom at night in which she lives with old Acrisiona and Epheda. After thou art dressed, she never goes to the bathrooms. Other slaves laugh at her and call her Diana. "'Enough,' said Petronius, my relative Venisius, to whom I offered her this morning did not want her. "'Hence she may remain here. Thou mayest go.' "'May I speak, master, a few more words concerning Eunice? "'I commanded thee to tell all thou knowest about her.' "'The entire household is talking about the escape of the maiden who was to dwell in the house of Venisius. After thy departure Eunice came to me and said that she knew a man who could find this maiden. "'Who is this man?' asked Petronius. "'I do not know him, master, but I thought I ought to tell thee about the matter. "'Tis well. Let that man await tomorrow the arrival of the Tribune, whom in my name thou wilt summon hither.' The slave bowed and departed. The thoughts of Petronius dwelt on Eunice. It was clear to him that the young slave woman wished Venisius to find Ligia, so that she should not be compelled to be her substitute in the house of the Tribune. It occurred to him that the man whom she had proposed for the search might be her lover. Somehow this thought hurt him. It would not be difficult to get at the truth. He had only to summon Eunice, but it was now late, and Petronius feeling weary after his long visit to the house of Chrysothemus desired to sleep. On the way to his chamber he recalled for some unknown reason that he had noticed wrinkles that day in the corners of Chrysothemus's eyes. It came to his mind also that her reputation for beauty was greater than she deserved, and that Fonteus Capitan, who had offered three boys for Eunice, wished to buy her too cheaply. End of Part 1, Chapter 12. Next morning Petronius had to scarcely dress himself ere Venisius, who had been summoned by Tiresius, appeared. He was aware that no news had come from the gates. This, instead of consoling him as proof that Ligia was still in the city, troubled him, for that he feared Ursus had carried her out of the city immediately after her rescue, and consequently before the slaves of Petronius had been sent to watch the gates. True, in autumn the gates were closed earlier on account of the short days, but then they were open for the people going out. Of these there were always a great many. One could pass out of the city also by other ways, known for instance to slaves who contemplated an escape. Venisius had dispatched his slaves to all the roads leading to the provinces, instructing them to carry alarms to all the watchmen in the smaller towns, and to furnish minute descriptions of Ursus and Ligia, and to offer a reward for their capture. But it might be doubted whether the fugitives could be overtaken, or, if so, whether the local officials would arrest them at the private instance of Venisius unsupported by the praetor. Ursus had no time to gain such support. Disguised as a slave he had sought for Ligia the entire previous day in every corner of the city, but he could not find any clue. True, he had met the slaves of Aulus, who were also seeking for something, and this confirmed his belief that Aulus and Pomponia had not taken Ligia away, and that they did not know what had become of her. So when Tyrosius had informed him that there was a man who would undertake to find Ligia, Venisius rushed to the house of Petronius and, barely greeting him, began to inquire about that man. "'We shall soon see him,' said Petronius. "'He is an acquaintance of Aulus. She is even now coming to fold my toga. She will give us additional information.' "'Is that the slave woman whom thou didst wish to give me yesterday? The one whom thou didst reject, for which, by the way, I am grateful, as she is the best robe-folder in the city.' He had barely finished when Aulus entered, taking the toga which was lying on a chair inlaid with ivory. She opened the garment to throw it over Petronius's shoulders. Her pretty face brightened, and joy was reflected in her eyes. Petronius looked at her, and she appeared beautiful to him. While she was wrapping him up in the toga, bending now and again to smooth the folds, he noticed that her arms were of a wonderful pale rose-color, and that her bosom and shoulders were transparent, like mother of pearl or alabaster. "'Yunus,' said he, "'has the man come of whom thou didst speak yesterday to Tiresias?' "'Yes, master.' "'What is his name?' "'Kylokylonadis, master. "'Who is he?' "'A physician, sage, and soothsayer, who can read the book of fate and forecast the future.' "'Did he forecast thy future?' "'A rosy blush spread over the ears and neck of Yunus, as she answered, "'Yes, master.' "'What did he predict? That pain and happiness should be my lot.' "'Pain thou didst suffer yesterday at the hands of Tiresias, hence the prediction about happiness should also be realized.' "'It is realized already, master. "'What is this happiness?' "'That I remain,' she replied in a low voice. "'Patronius put his hand on her golden head. "'Thou hast arranged the folds well today, and I am pleased with thee, Yunus.' As his hand touched her head, her eyes grew moist, and her bosom began to heave quickly. Patronius and Vinicius went into the antechamber, where Kylo-Kylonides was waiting for them. The latter bowed low on their entrance. Patronius smiled at the thought of his suspicion of yesterday that this man might be Yunus's lover, this man could be no woman's lover. His queer figure was at once repulsive and ridiculous. He was not old, only a few gray hairs showed in his straggly beard and curled locks. He had a lank stomach, his shoulders stooped so that a cursory glance might have mistaken him for a humpback. Above his bent shoulders was a large head that seemed a cross between the face of a monkey and a fox. His eyes were bright and inquisitive. His jaundiced face was ornamented with pimples which concentrated on his nose, suggesting an excessive love for the bottle. His disordered attire, consisting of a dark tunic of goat's wool and a ragged mantel of similar material, indicated poverty, real or pretended. At sight of him Patronius was reminded of Homer's Thercities. So, answering Kylo's bow with a wave of his hand, he said, I greet thee, divine Thercities! How are the lumps which Ulysses gave thee at Troy? And how is he himself in the Elysian Fields? Noble Lord! answered Kylo, Ulysses, the wisest of the dead, sends through me to Patronius, the wisest of the living, his greetings, and requests that thou shouldst cover my lumps with a new mantel. By Hercati, exclaimed Patronius, the answer merits a new mantel. Vinicius impatiently interrupted the conversation and asked Kylo point-blank, or to thou sufficiently acquainted with the problem thou hast to solve. It is not difficult to learn what the question is, answered Kylo, when the slaves of two lordly mansions speak of nothing else, and when it is the current gossip of half of Rome, night before last a maiden called Ligia, a ward of Aulus Plautius, was carried away while thy slaves were bearing her from Caesar's palace to thy house. I offer to find her in Rome, or if she has left the city, which seems improbable, I shall discover for thee noble tribune wither she has fled and where she is hiding. Tis well, said Vinicius, pleased with the confidence of the answer, what means hast thou to accomplish this? Kylo smiled shrewdly, thou master hast the means, I have only the wit. Patronius smiled also, for he was fully satisfied with his visitor. This man can find the maiden, thought he. Vinicius frowned and said, if thou deceivest me for gain, I will bestow a flogging upon thee. I am a philosopher, master, and a philosopher cannot be tempted by gain, especially such as thou dost promise so magnanimously. How art thou a philosopher? Unis told me thou art a physician and soothsayer. How didst thou make Unis's acquaintance? She came to ask my advice, for my fame had reached her ears. What advice did she desire? Master she desired to be cured of unriquited love. Didst thou cure her? I did more than that. I gave her an amulet which ensures reciprocation. In Paphos, on the island of Cyprus, there is a temple wherein a girdle of venus is preserved. I procured her two threads from that girdle, enclosed in an almond shell. And no doubt thou hast received a good price for it. One can never pay enough for reciprocated love, and I, who have lost two fingers of my right hand, am saving money in order to buy a slave copyist, that he may write down my thoughts and preserve my wisdom for mankind. To what school dost thou belong, venerable sage? Master I am a cynic, because I wear a tattered mantle. I am stoic, because I bear want patiently. I am a peripatetic, because not owning a litter, I walk from one wine-shop to another, teaching on the way those who promise to pay for a pitcher of wine. And does the pitcher change thee into a rhetorician? Heraclitus says that all is fluid. Thou canst not deny that wine is fluid. And he taught also that fire is a divinity. He therefore is perched upon thy nose. The divine diogenes of Apollonia taught that the universe is created from air, and that the warmer the air, the more perfect are the created beings. And as in Orton the air is cold, ergo, a genuine sage ought to warm his soul with wine. Thou canst not deny, master, that a pitcher even of the stuff made in the environs of Capua or Tilesia would now impart warmth to all the bones of a perishable human body. Where is thy birthplace, Kylo? On the Eucsine Pontus I come from Mesimbria. Thou art a great man, O Kylo. But unrecognized, said the sage, in a mournful tone. Venisius's impatience increased, because of the hope that Kylo had raised he wished him to begin his search at once, hence he regarded the conversation as a waste of time and felt wroth with Patronius. When wilt thou begin the search? he said, turning to the Greek. I have begun it already, was the answer, even here, even in answering thy courteous questions I am still searching. Confide in me noble tribune, know that if thou were to lose the string from off thy sandal I would find it, or him who picked it up. Asked thou ever performed such services? asked Patronius. The Greek lifted his eyes to heaven. Nowadays wisdom and virtue are so little esteemed that a philosopher is forced to seek other means of earning a livelihood. What other means hast thou to find out everything and to furnish information for all who wish it, and who pays for it? Ah, master, I must buy a copyist, otherwise my wisdom will perish with me. If thou hast not saved enough money to buy a new mantle, thy services evidently are not very valuable. Modesty forbids my speaking of them, but master, take into consideration the fact that there are no longer so many benefactors as of old, for whom it was as great a pleasure to cover a body with gold for services rendered as to swallow an oyster from Putioli. It is not my services that are small, but the gratitude of men. If a slave escapes, who will find him if not the son of my father? When on the walls appear inscriptions against the divine popiah, who else will indicate the authors? Who will unearth in the bookshops verses against Caesar? Who will tell of conversations held in the houses of senators and patricians? Who will deliver letters which cannot be entrusted to slaves? Who will listen to the garstip of the barbershops, from whom have the wine and bake shops no secrets? In whom do slaves trust? Who can see at a glance through any house from the inner chamber to the garden? Who knows every street and byway and hidden den? Who knows what is talked of in the baths, in the circus, in the markets, in the gymnasiums, in the stalls of the slave-dealers, and even in the arenas? By the gods enough, noble sage, exclaimed Petronius, otherwise we shall be drowned in thy virtues, thy wisdom, and eloquence. Enough! We wish to know what thou art, and now we know. Vinicius was pleased. Once put a man like this on the trail he thought and hound-like he would not stop until he had flushed the game. "'Tis well,' said he, dost thou need clues. I need arms. What kind of arms?' asked Vinicius, perplexed. Kylo stretched out one hand, while on the other he made a motion as if counting money. Such times as we live in, he sighed. "'This means that thou wilt be the ass who wins the fortress by means of gold,' remarked Petronius. "'I am but a poor philosopher, master,' answered Kylo with humility. "'Thou hast the gold.' Vinicius tossed him a purse. The Greek caught it ere it fell, though two fingers were missing from his right hand. Then he raised his head and said, "'Master, I know already more than thou dost suspect. I came not here empty-handed. I know that Aulus and his wife did not intercept the maiden, for I have questioned their slaves. I know that she is not in the Palatine palace, for all there are occupied with the sick child, and perhaps I know also why thou preferest my aid in the search for the maiden to that of the gods and soldiers of Caesar. I know that her escape was effected by the co-operation of a slave who came from the same country as she. He could not have procured assistance from slaves because slaves stand together, and would not have helped him against your slaves. Only his co-religionists could have given him aid.' "'Hoggin to these words, Vinicius,' interrupted Petronius, "'have I not said the same thing to thee? Thou dost me a great honour,' said Kylo. The maiden-master,' he continued, addressing himself again to Vinicius, worships beyond doubt the same divinity as Pomponia, that most virtuous of all Roman matrons. I have heard that Pomponia was tried in secret for worshipping strange gods, but I could not learn from her slaves what kind of divinities these are, and what their adherents are called. If I could learn this, I should go to them and become the most devout among them, and win their confidence. But thou, master, as is known to me, hast passed a few weeks in the house of Aulis. Canst thou not give me some information about these gods?' "'I cannot,' answered Vinicius, "'thou hast questioned me long about various matters, and I have answered thee. Now allow me to question thee, hast thou not seen noble tribune, some statuette, some sacrifice, some token, or some amulet upon Pomponia or Ligia, hast thou not seen them drawing some images intelligible to them alone?' "'Yes, I once saw Ligia draw a fish on sand. A fish?' "'Ah, ah, ah, ah, did she draw it once or many times, but once, and art thou sure that she drew a fish?' "'Yes, I am sure,' answered Vinicius with interest, "'dost thou know what it means?' "'Do I know,' exclaimed Kylo, then bowing in sign of farewell, he said, "'May fortune present you with all gifts, noble ancestors.' "'Order a mantle to be brought to thee,' said Patronius at parting. "'Ulysses, thanks thee for their cities,' answered the Greek, and bowing again, he left the room. "'What does thou think of that noble sage?' asked Patronius. "'I think that he will find Ligia,' exclaimed Vinicius joyfully, but I think also that if there were a kingdom of knaves he would be crowned king there. Without doubt I must get better acquainted with this stoic. One time I will have this hall disinfected.' Kylo Cylonides, wrapped in his new mantle, felt beneath its folds the purse which Vinicius had given him, and rejoiced at its weight and jingle, walking slowly and looking furtively around to see that he was followed by no one from the house of Patronius. He passed a portico of Livia, and reaching the corner of the verveous quarter turned into the sabora. "'I must go to Sporus,' said he to himself, and pour out a libation to fortune. I have at last found what I have long been looking for. He is young, passionate, bountiful as the minds of Cyprus, and is ready to give for this Ligian-linet half of his fortune. I must deal with him carefully, however, for his frowns forbode no good. "'Oh, the wolf-welps rule the world today. I should not be so afraid of Patronius. Oh, gods, to be a procurer pays better in these times than virtue. Ah, she drew a fish on the sand. May I choke myself with goat cheese if I know the meaning of that symbol, but I shall find out, as fish live under water, and seeking under water is harder than on land, he shall pay me liberally for this fish. One more purse like this, and I might cast aside the beggar's wallet and purchase myself a slave. But suppose, O' Kylo, if I advise thee to buy not a male, but a female slave, I know thee. I am sure that thou wouldst say, ye, were she as beautiful as Eunice, for instance, thou wouldst grow young at her side. Moreover thou wouldst draw from her a large and certain income. I sold that poor Eunice two threads from my old mantle, she is stupid. Nevertheless, if Patronius would give her to me, I would not reject her. Ye, ye, Kylo, thou hast lost both thy father and thy mother. Thou art an orphan, therefore purchase a female slave to console thee. She must have shelter, therefore Vinicius will hire a dwelling for her, in which thou also mayst abide. She must have raiment, therefore Vinicius will pay for it, and she must have food, therefore he will provide it. Oh, it is costly to live in this world! Oh, for the times when a fathering would buy as much pork and beans as one could hold in both hands, or a piece of goats in trails as long as the arm of a twelve-year-old boy! But here is that knave's sporus, it will be easier to gain some information in the wine-shop. He entered the shop and ordered a pitcher of wine, noting the distrustful look of the shopkeeper. He took a gold coin from the purse and threw it on the table. Sporus! He cried, I worked to-day with Seneca from dawn until noon, and here, see what my friend hath given me! The big eyes of Sporus grew bigger still at the site of the coin. In a twinkling the wine was placed before Kylo, who, moistening his fingers, grew a fish on the table, and said, Yes, thou know what that means. A fish, a fish means a fish. Thou art stupid, though thou dost add so much water to the wine that thou might find a fish in it. It is a symbol, which in the language of philosophers means the smile of fortune. Should thou divine it, thou too mightst make a fortune. And look you, on a philosophy, or I shall change my wine-shop, which my dear friend Petronius has long urged me to do. CHAPTER XIV For some days Kylo disappeared from sight. The information Vinicius had received from Actia that Ligia loved him made him a hundredfold more eager to find her. Through his slaves he instituted a careful search. He was both unwilling and unable to appeal to Caesar, whose attention was now completely absorbed in the dangerous illness of the little Augusta. Nothing availed to help the child, neither sacrifices in the temples, nor prayers, nor vows, nor the skill of physicians, nor the magic spells to which they had recourse when the last hope had vanished. At the end of a week the infant died. The court and the whole city of Rome were plunged in mourning. Caesar, who had been wild with delight at the birth of the child, was now equally wild with grief. Shutting himself up in his room he refused food for two days. The court was crowded with senators and Augustalis, who hastened thither with their condolences. Caesar denied himself to all. The Senate assembled an extraordinary session, and proclaimed that the little Augusta was a goddess. The senators decided to dedicate a temple to her and appoint a special priest for the service of the new goddess. In other temples sacrifices were also offered to her. Statues were cast from precious metals. Her funeral was celebrated with unprecedented solemnity. The people marveled at the unrestrained grief to which Caesar surrendered himself. They wept with him, stretched out their hands for gifts, and above all found amusement in the splendid pageant. The death of the little Augusta alarmed Patronius. All Rome was aware that Popea ascribed it to witchcraft. The physicians eagerly caught up her words as a convenient excuse for their unsuccessful efforts. So likewise did the priests whose sacrifices had proved unavailing, the soothsayers who trembled for their lives, and the people generally. Patronius was now glad that Ligia had disappeared. He wished no evil to the house of Aulus, and especially he wished good to himself and to Venicius. As soon as the Cyprus placed before the Palatine as a sign of mourning had been removed, he went to the reception appointed for senators and Augustalis to learn how far Nero had credited the rumors of witchcraft and to neutralize the possible consequences. With his knowledge of Nero he was convinced that though he did not believe in witchcraft he would feign belief partly through self-deception, partly through a desire for revenge, but especially for the purpose of averting the suspicion that the gods were punishing him for his crimes. Patronius did not admit that Caesar had any deeper sincere love even for his own child, though he made a great show of attachment. But he had not the least doubt that Nero would pretend an exaggerated grief. Nor was he mistaken. Nero listened with stony face and fixed stare at the condolences of knights and senators. It was evident that even if he were suffering he was simultaneously taking thought of the impression which his despair made on others. He was posing as a Naiobi and giving a representation of paternal sorrow such as an actor might give on a stage. Yet even now he could not long retain his attitude of stony and silent sorrow. At one moment he would make a gesture as if casting dust upon his head. At another he groaned deeply. Using Patronius he assumed a tone of tragic pathos evidently wishing that all should hear him. He cried, Thou art the cause of her death. By thy advice the evil spirit was admitted to these walls which at one glance smote the life out of her breast. Woe is me! Better that I had never seen the bright face of the sun-god. Woe is me! Suddenly raising his voice he filled the chamber with exclamations of despair. Patronius saw that he must put everything to the hazard of a die. He stretched out his hand, seized the kerchief which was always around Caesar's neck and put it to Nero's lips. Caesar, he cried solemnly, let Rome and the whole world perish from grief but preserve thy voice for us. All present were astonished. Caesar himself was stricken dumb for a moment. Patronius alone stood unmoved. He well knew what he was doing. He did not forget that Terpnos and Diodorus had an order to close Caesar's mouth whenever his voice might be threatened by overexertion. Oh, Caesar! continued Patronius in the same sad and persuasive voice. We have suffered an immense loss, but let this treasure remain to console us. Nero's face quivered, tears stood in his eyes. Placing his arm on Patronius's shoulder he suddenly bent his head to his breast, and in a voice choked by sobs he began, Only thou, Patronius, hast reminded me of this. Only thou, Patronius, only thou! Tejalinas grew yellow with envy. Again Patronius turned to Nero, go to Antium. There she appeared unto the world, thence issued thy joy. Thither consolation will come thee. Let the sea air refresh thy divine throat. Let thy breast breathe in the soft moisture of the air. We, thy loving servants, will follow thee everywhere, and when we comfort thy sorrow with our friendship, thou wilt console us in turn with song. Yes, answered Nero, sadly, I will write a hymn in her honour, and will compose the music for it, and then thou wilt go to Bayei and revive under the warm rays of the sun, and later I will seek forgetfulness in Greece, in the land of poetry and song. His mood of stony grief gradually dispersed like clouds that cover the sun. Then ensued a conversation which, though still full of signs of sorrow, was nonetheless enlivened by plans for the coming journey. They spoke of the exhibitions that Caesar would make of his artistic skill, of the feasts that would be prepared for the expected arrival of Tiridates, king of Armenia. It is true, Tejalinas tried to bring up once more the matter of witchcraft, but Patronius took up the challenge with full assurance of victory. Tejalinas said he, does thou think that witchcraft can harm the gods? Caesar himself hath spoken of spells, answered the courteer. It was grief speaking with his lips, but tell us what thou thinkest of them thyself. The gods are too powerful to be influenced by spells, and dost thou not acknowledge the divinity of Caesar and his family? Ah! It is finished! exclaimed Eprius Marcellus, who stood close by repeating the shout used in the circus when a gladiator had received a mortal blow. Tejalinas smothered his rage. Between him and Patronius had long existed a rivalry for the favor of Nero. Tejalinas had this advantage, that Nero observed no ceremony in his presence, but Patronius hitherto had always vanquished Tejalinas in every encounter of wit and judgment. And so it happened now. Tejalinas grew silent. He occupied himself merely by impressing upon his memory the names of the senators who crowded around Patronius at the other end of the hall, in the expectation that after this victory he would become the prime favorite of Caesar. Patronius on leaving the palace directed his litter to be born to the house of Vinicius. He informed the latter of his encounter with Caesar and Tejalinas and added, I have removed all danger not only from Aulus Plotius and Pomponia, but also from ourselves, and more particularly from Ligia. He will not now be pursued for the reason that I have persuaded the red-bearded ape to go to Antium and then to Naples or Baeae. He will surely go. He has not yet made up his mind to an appearance before the Roman public in the theater, but I know that for some time he has purpose to make a trial in Naples. Moreover he is dreaming of a visit to Greece, where he wishes to sing in all the principal cities. After that he will make a triumphal entry into Rome, with all the wreaths which the Greeklets may bestow upon him. In the meantime we will have an opportunity to search for Ligia without hindrance, and to hide her in a safe place if we find her. But has not our noble philosopher returned yet? Thy noble philosopher is a cheat. He has not appeared, and we may be certain of never casting eyes upon him. Nay, I have a better opinion, if not of his honesty, at least of his wit. He has drawn blood once from thy purse. We assured that he will return, even were it only to draw blood a second time. Let him beware lest I draw his own blood. Do not do that. Bear with him until thou art entirely convinced of his deceit. Give him no more money, but promise him a liberal reward in case he brings the correct information. But thou thyself, what art thou doing in this matter? Two of my freedmen, Nymphidius and Demus, with sixty slaves are in full pursuit. I have promised freedom to him who finds her. Here I have sent special messengers to inquire of Ursus and the maiden, in all the ends leading to Rome. Day and night I myself traverse the city in the hope of a chance meeting. Whatever thou learnest inform me of it by letter, I must go to Antium. It is well, and if some fine morning thou wakest to say to thyself that it is not worth while to waste time and pains on a maiden, then come thou to Antium, and there we will have plenty of women and amusement. Vinicius strode with long steps across the floor. Petronius gazed at him for some time before he again broke silence. Tell me frankly, he said at last, not as a dreamer who conceals something within himself, but as a man of sense answering a friend, art thou still carried away by Ligia? Vinicius stopped for a moment, and gazed at Petronius as intently as if he had never seen him before. Then he resumed his walk. Evidently he was restraining an outburst. But the sense of his own impotence, the pain, the wrath, and the ceaseless yearning which possessed him moved him to tears. His dim eyes spoke to Petronius with more force than the most eloquent words. After a moment's thought the elder said, "'Tis not atlas who bears the world on his shoulders, but women, and sometimes they play with it as with a ball.' "'True,' answered Vinicius. Then they bade each other farewell, but just then a slave announced that Kylo Kylonides was outside in the antechamber, awaiting permission to enter. Vinicius ordered his instant admittance. "'Behold,' laughed Petronius, did I not tell thee so. By Hercules preserve thy calm, otherwise he will subdue thee, not thou him.' "'Salutations and honor to the noble soldier and tribune, and to you, O master,' said Kylo, entering, "'May your good fortune equal your fame, and may your fame resound over the world from the pillars of Hercules to the uttermost boundaries.' "'A greeting to thee, wise and virtuous lawgiver,' answered Petronius. Vinicius asked with assumed calmness, "'What news hast thou brought?' "'Master, on my first visit I brought thee hope, and now I bring assurance that the maiden will be found.' "'Which means that the maiden is not yet found.' "'True, master, but I have discovered the meaning of the sign she drew. I now know who are the people that rescued her, and I also know among what class of religionists she must be sought.' Vinicius was on the point of leaping from the chair whereon he sat, but Petronius laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, and turning to Kylo said, "'Speak on!' "'Aren't thou certain, no master, that the maiden drew a fish upon the sand?' "'Yes,' exclaimed Vinicius, then she is a Christian, and Christians have taken her away.' A moment of silence followed. "'Harken, Kylo,' said Petronius, my kinsmen hath set aside for the a large reward for the finding of Ligia, and no smaller allowances of lashes if thou art striving to deceive him. In the first case thou wilt be able to buy not merely one, but three copyists. In the second case not all the philosophy of all the seven sages and thine own in addition will serve thee as a healing ointment. "'Master, this maiden is a Christian,' insisted the Greek. "'Harken, Kylo, thou art no fool. We know that Eunia, Solana, and Calvia, Crispinilla accused Pomponia Grisina of professing this Christian superstition. It is also known to us that a private investigation acquitted her from this charge. Dost thou wish to renew it? Dost thou think thou wilt be able to convince us that both Pomponia and Ligia belong among the enemies of the human race, the poisoners of fountains and wells, the worshipers of Adas's head, among the people who murder infants and who give themselves up to the foulest corruptions? Beware, Kylo, lest the thesis announced by thee be not turned back upon thee as an antithesis. Kylo spread out his hands as a sign that it was not his fault and said, Lord, pronounce the following words in Greek. Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour. Well, I have done so, but what of that? Now take the first letters of each word and form them in such a manner as to compose a new word. Fish, cried Petronius, astonished. Now thou seest why the symbol of a fish became the symbol of Christianity. The argument of the Greek was so convincing that both the friends remained buried in thought. Vinicius asked Petronius, art thou not mistaken? Did she really draw a fish? Why, all the infernal gods, dost thou wish to drive me insane? cried the young man wrathfully. Had she drawn a bird, I should have said a bird. It follows that she is a Christian, repeated Kylo. Which means, said Petronius, that Pomponia and Ligia are poisoning wells, murdering kidnapped children, and giving themselves up to corruption, nonsense. Thou of Vinicius didst remain for some time in their house. I was not there long, but I know Alice and Pomponia well enough. If a fish be the symbol of the Christians, which is really difficult to deny, and if they are all Christians, then by prosopina, it is evident that Christians are not what we suppose them. Master, thou speakest like Socrates, replied Kylo, who has ever interrogated a Christian, who is familiar with that creed, when three years ago I passed from Naples to Rome, oh, wherefore did I not remain there? I was joined by one Glockus, who was said to be a Christian, and in spite of this I convinced myself that he was a good and virtuous man. Did this virtuous man inform thee of the meaning of the fish? There on the road dishonorable man was stabbed in an inn, and his wife and child were taken away from him by slave dealers. In their defense I lost these two fingers, but they say that there is no lack of miracles among Christians, so I hope that these two fingers may grow out again. How is that? Has thou become a Christian? Since yesterday, oh, master, since yesterday, this fish has made me a Christian. See what power it has. In a few days I shall become one of the most zealous of believers, so that I may be admitted to all their secrets. But when I am admitted, I shall learn where the maiden is. Then per chance my Christianity will pay me better than my philosophy. I made a vow to Mercury that if he aided me in finding the maiden I would sacrifice to him two heifers of the same age and size whose horns I shall gild, which means that your Christianity of yesterday and your philosophy of the day before allow thee to believe in Mercury. I always believe in what I need to believe in. Such is my philosophy, and it ought to harmonize with the taste of Mercury in a special. But you worthy lords know what a suspicious God he is. He trusts not the vows of the most irreproachable philosophers. Per chance he may desire the heifers in advance, but this involves a large outlay. Not every one can be a Seneca, and I cannot afford the expense unless the noble Vinicius be willing to advance a portion of the promised reward. Not a farthing, Kylo, said Petronius, not a farthing. The liberality of Vinicius will surpass thy expectations, but not before thou findest Ligia, or showest her place of concealment. Mercury must trust thee for the two heifers, though I do not wonder that he does it unwillingly. I see Mercury has wit. Listen to me, worthy masters. The discovery I have made is a very great discovery, for though I have not yet found the maiden I have found the method by which she may be found, ye have scattered freedmen and slaves throughout the city, as any one of them given you a clue? No, I am the only one who has found one. I will say more. Among your slaves may be slaves of whom ye know nothing. This superstition hath spread itself everywhere. Instead of helping you, they may betray you. It is even dangerous for me to be seen here. Therefore thou, noble Petronius, swear Eunice to silence, and thou, noble Vinicius, announce that I am selling the anointment which secures certain victory for horses in the circus. I alone will seek her, and I alone will find the fugitives. But have faith in me, and know that whatever I receive in advance will be only a stimulus, for I will always hope to receive more, and will be more certain that the promised reward will not fail me. Ye, this is true. As a philosopher I have a contempt for money, though it is not scorned by Seneca nor by Carnutus, yet these philosophers have not lost two fingers in defense of some unfortunate. They can write themselves and leave their names to posterity, but besides the slave whom I wish to buy, and Mercury to whom I have promised two heifers, and ye know how dear Catel are at present, the search itself involves numerous expenses. According to me patiently, during these last few days my feet have become sore from continuous walking. I have sought converse with people in the wine shops, in the bakeries, in the butcher's shops, and with oil dealers and fishermen. I have run through all the streets and lanes. I have been in the dens of escaped slaves. I have lost large sums of money playing mora. I have been in laundries, in drying sheds, and in lunch rooms. I have met mule drivers and carvers, men who cure troubles of the bladder, and men who pull teeth. I have talked with dealers in dried figs. I have been in cemeteries, and know ye my object in all this. It was in order to draw a fish everywhere, to look into people's eyes and to hear what they might say when they saw this sign. For a long time I learnt nothing. Then at last I met an old slave at a fountain, drawing water and weeping. Approaching I asked the cause of his tears. We both took our seats at the steps of the fountain, when he told me that all his lifetime he has been saving up cesterces to redeem his beloved son from slavery. But his master, Pauser by name, on seeing the money, took it and kept the son in slavery. And so I weep, said the old man, for though I repeat the will of God be done, yet I a poor sinner cannot restrain my tears. Then I moistened my finger in the pail of water, and drew the figure of a fish, at which he remarked, I also put my trust in Christ. Then I asked him, since thou recognise me by this sign, and he answered, ye may peace be with thee. I then began to question him, and the old man told me all. His master, Pauser, is himself a freedman of the great Pauser. He ships along the Tiber to Rome, stone in boats, which slaves and hirelings unload and carry to buildings at night time, so as not to obstruct the streets during the day. Many Christians are engaged in this work, and among them his son. But as the work is beyond his son's strength, he desired to redeem him. But Pauser kept both the money and the slave. While relating this, the old man wept again, and I followed his example, which was not difficult, because of my kind hearts, and the pain in my feet caused my continual walking. I lamented likewise that I had arrived recently from Naples, so that I knew none of the brethren nor where they assembled for prayer. He marveled that the brethren in Naples had not given me letters of recommendation to the brethren in Rome, but I explained to him that I had been robbed of my letters on the way. Then he instructed me to come to the river at night, and he would introduce me to the brethren, who would conduct me to the houses of prayer and to the elders who rule this Christian community. I was so overjoyed by this information that I gave him the necessary amount for his son's redemption, feeling confident that the magnanimous Vinicius would return me double the amount. Kylo, interrupted Petronius, in dinerative falsehood floats on the surface of truth as oil on water. No doubt thou hast brought important news. I think indeed that a great step has been taken towards finding Ligia, but do not mix falsehood with truth. What is the name of the old man from whom thou didst learn that Christians recognize one another by the sign of a fish? Horaceous is his name, master, a poor unfortunate old man. He reminds me of Glockus, whom I defended from murderers. I believe thou didst make his acquaintance, and that thou wilt be able to make use of this acquaintance, but thou didst give him no money. Thou didst not even give him one farthing, dost understand. Thou didst not give him anything. But I assisted him to lift his pail, and I spoke of his son with the greatest sympathy. Yea, master, what can be concealed from the insight of Petronius? I did not give him any money, or more correctly I gave to him in intention only. This would have sufficed him had he been a true philosopher. I gave it to him because I considered the gift necessary and useful, for think how this will win for me the hearts of all the Christians, and how I will secure access to them and win their confidence. True, said Petronius, but it was to thy interest to do it. Then Petronius, turning to Vinicius, said, order that five thousand cestercies be counted out to him, but in intention only. But Vinicius said, I will give thee a servant who will carry the necessary amount. Thou wilt tell Euryseus that the servant is thy slave, and thou wilt count out the money to the old man in the servant's presence. But as thou hast brought important news thou shalt have the same amount for thyself. Call this evening for the servant and the money. Thou art as liberal as Caesar, cried Kylo, permit me, master, to dedicate my work to thee, but permit also that I come this evening for the money only, as Euryseus informed me that the boats had all been unloaded, and that others would not follow from Ostea until a few days have passed. May peace be with you. Thus do Christians greet one another. I shall buy a female slave. No, I mean a male slave. Fish are caught with a bait, and Christians with fish. Peace be with ye, peace, peace. End of Part 1 Chapter 14 Part 1 Chapter 15 of Quo Vadis, a tale of the time of Nero, this Librivox recording is in the public domain. Quo Vadis, by Henryx and Kevitch, translated by Binyon and Melevsky. Part 1 Chapter 15 Petronius to Vinicius. I forward this letter from Antium by a faithful slave, expecting that thou wilt return an answer without delay by the bearer, although thy hand is better used to the sword than to the pen. I left thee hopeful and on a clear trail. I trust therefore that thou hast already satisfied thy sweet desires in the arms of Ligia, or that thou wilt satisfy them ere the winter winds from the summits of Soracti shall blow on the Campania. O dear Vinicius, may the golden-haired goddess of Cyprus be thy instructor, and mayest thou in turn be the instructor of this Ligian morning-star, fleeing before the son of love. But remember that even the most precious marble is nothing in itself, and that it obtains real value only when the sculptor makes of it a masterpiece. Be thou such a sculptor, O my beloved. To love is not enough. One should know how to love and how to teach love. Even the common people and animals experience sensual delight, but a genuine man differs from them in this, that he transforms love into a noble art, and conscious of its divine meaning recreates it in his mind, so that he satisfies not only his heart but his soul. Often when I think of the vanity, the uncertainty, and cares of life, it comes to my mind that perhaps thou hast taken the wiser course, and that not the court of Caesar, but war and love are the only things worth being born and living for. Thou hast been fortunate in war, be fortunate also in love, and if thou art curious to know what goes on at the court of Caesar I will send thee news of everything. We are so journeying here at Antium and taking care of our divine voice, cherishing an unchangeable hatred to Rome, and intending to spend the winter at Bayei to appear in public at Naples, whose citizens being of Greek descent are better critics than the wolf-brewed on the banks of the Tiber. People will come from Bayei, from Pompeii, from Putioli, from Kumai, and from Stabii. There will be no lack of applause or crowds, and this will be an encouragement for the expected expedition to Achaea. As regards the memory of the little Augusta, yes, we are still lamenting her. We are singing hymns of our own composition, so beautiful that the sirens from Envy are hiding in the deepest caves of Amphitrite. The dolphins themselves would listen to us were it not for the noise of the sea. Our grief is not yet over, hence we shall exhibit it in every form of sculpture known to art, and we are careful that our postures shall be beautiful, and that the world shall recognize this beauty. O my friend, let us be mount-a-banks and comedians as long as we live. All the Augustalis are here, male and female, not including five hundred she-asses, in whose milk-papier bathes, and ten thousand servants. At times it is even cheerful. Calvia Crispanilla is growing old. It is said that she petitioned Papier to be permitted to bathe after herself. Lucan slapped Nigeria's face because he suspected her of relations with a gladiator. Sporus lost his wife to Cinesio at Dice. Torquatis Silanus has offered me for Eunice for chestnut horses, which will surely win this year at the races, but I declined the offer. I am grateful to thee that thou didst not accept her. As to Torquatis Silanus, he, poor wretch, does not suspect that he is more of a shadow than a man. His fate is decided. Does thou know what his crime is? He is the great-grandson of the Divine Augustus. There is no help for him. Such is our world. As thou knowest we have been expecting Tiridates. Meanwhile we have received an offensive letter from Volodicis. Having conquered Armenia, he asks that it be left to him for Tiridates, and if it be not left to him, he declares he will hold it in any case. This is mockery. We have decided on war. Corbulo will be given such power as pompous Magnus received in the war against the pirates. There was a moment when Nero hesitated. He evidently fears the glory which Corbulo may win by martial deeds. It was even thought to give the chief command to our Aulus, but Papia, to whom Pomponia's virtue is as salt in the eye, opposed it. Vatenius notified us of a remarkable gladiatorial combat which he is preparing in Beneventum. Hold the height to which Cobblers rise in our time, despite the saying let the Cobblers stick to his last. Vitellius is the descendant of a Cobbler, but Vatenius is the son of one. Perhaps he himself has stitched with the waxed thread. Alatorus, the actor, gave a great representation of Oedipus yesterday. He is a Jew, and I asked him whether Jews and Christians were the same. He answered that the Jewish religion is a very ancient one, but that the Christians are a new sect, risen lately in Judea, that in the time of Tiberius a man was crucified whose followers are increasing daily. He has even been deified by them. The Christians, it seems, refuse to worship all other gods, especially ours. I comprehend not the harm which such worship would do them. Tidilienus openly manifests his enmity to me, as yet he has not prevailed against me, though he is my superior in that he cares more for life and is at the same time a greater nave than I, which helps him in Bronzebeard's eyes. Sooner or later these two will understand each other, and then my turn will come. I do not know when this will happen, but Tiz only a question of time. Meantime I must enjoy life. Life would not be a bad thing if it were not for Bronzebeard. Thanks to him one revolts at times disgusted against oneself. The struggle for his favour must not be placed upon the same plain as that of rivals in the circus or in games where the victory is desired on account of ambition. True, I often explain it to myself in these terms, but at other times it seems to me that I am in no way better than Kylo. When thou dost need him no longer, send him to me. I delight in his edifying conversation. Send my greeting to thy divine Christian maiden, or rather implore her in my name not to be a fish to thee. Write to me about thy health and the progress of thy love-affair. Know how to love, teach how to love, and fare well. Vinesius to Patronius. Lygia has not yet been found. Were it not for the hope that I shall find her ere long, thou wouldst not receive this answer, for one is not inclined to letter writing when concerned in a matter of life and death. I wished to find out whether Kylo was deceiving me, so on the night that he came to secure the money for Euryceus I wrapped myself in a military cloak and followed him and the servant who I sent with him. When they reached the appointed place I watched them from a distance, hiding behind a portico pillar, and I convinced myself that Euryceus had not been invented for the occasion. Although by the river, groups of workmen were unloading stones from a large boat and hoisting them on the bank, I saw Kylo approach and enter into conversation with an old man who knelt down before him. Others surrounded them looking on with astonishment. Before my eyes the servant gave the purse to Euryceus, who, seizing it, began to pray, raising his hands to the sky. At the old man's side another was kneeling evidently his son. Kylo said something that I could not hear, and blessed the kneeling figures and the others about them, making in the air a sign in the form of a cross which evidently they all honor for all knelt down. I would have approached them to promise three such purses to him who would deliver Ligia to me, but I feared lest I might spoil Kylo's work, so after hesitating for a moment I departed. This was some twelve days after thy departure. Kylo has visited me frequently since. He tells me that he has gained great influence among the Christians. He explains that if he has not yet found Ligia, it is because there are such multitudes of Christians in Rome that they are not all acquainted with one another, and cannot know everything that goes on in the community. Besides, the Christians are wary and usually reticent, but he assures me that when he comes in contact with the elders called presbyters, he will be able to learn everything from them. He has gained access to some of them already, and has begun to question them, though with the utmost circumspection lest he awaken their suspicions and thus raise difficulties in his own path. It is hard to wait, and I am impatient, but I feel that he is right and I wait. He has gleaned the further information that the Christians assemble for prayer beyond the city gates in empty houses and even in sand pits. They pray to Christ, sing hymns, and hold feasts. They have many such places of assembly. Kylo thinks that Ligia goes intentionally to different places of worship than those frequented by Pomponia, so that the latter, if questioned by the authorities, would be able to swear that she did not know Ligia's hiding place. Perhaps the presbyters suggested this precaution. When Kylo discovers these places I will go with him, and if the gods permit me a sight of Ligia by Jupiter she shall not escape me. When my thoughts dwell continually on these places of prayer, Kylo does not wish me to go with him. He is afraid. But I cannot sit idle at home. I should recognize her at once, even in disguise or veiled. The Christians assemble during the night, but I should recognize her even at night. I should know her voice and movements under all possible conditions. I will go myself in disguise and scrutinize every person who comes in or goes out. I think of her always, and shall certainly recognize her. Kylo is to come for me to-morrow, and we shall go. I shall take arms with me. Some of my slaves whom I sent to the provinces have returned without any news. I am certain now that she is here in the city, and possibly not far away. I myself have looked through many houses under pretext of hiring them. She will be far better off with me, for she is now probably dwelling amid poverty. I shall refuse her nothing. Thou sayest that I have chosen the happier lot. Nay, I have chosen only suffering and sorrow. We shall go first to the houses within the city, then to those beyond the gates. Hope is born anew in my breast every morning, otherwise I could not live. Thou sayest that one should know how to love. I could speak of love to Ligia, but now I only yearn. I wait for Kylo, and I cannot stay at home. Farewell. End of Part 1, Chapter 15. Part 1, Chapter 16 of Quo Vadis, A Tale of the Time of Nero. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Quo Vadis, by Henrik Sinkhevich. Translated by Benion Antmelevski. Part 1, Chapter 16. It was a long time before Kylo showed himself again. Vinicius knew not what to think. Vainly he repeated to himself that a successful search must be slow and careful, hot tempered and hot-blooded. He would not listen to the voice of reason. To do nothing, to wait and sit with folded hands, was so repugnant that he could not reconcile himself to it. To run in the disguise of a slave through dark streets and alleys, without result, seemed a useless employment of energy. His freedmen, quick, sagacious, and experienced, whom he had commanded to make an independent search, proved themselves to be a hundredfold less expert than Kylo. But Vinicius, in addition to his love for Ligia, felt the gamblers craving for victory. This had always been one of his characteristics. From his childhood he had accomplished all his wishes with the passion of one who does not understand the word impossible, or recognize the necessity of surrender. Military discipline had, for a period, put bounds upon his own will, but it had awakened in him at the same time the sense that every command given by him to his subordinates must be carried out at any cost. His long sojourn in the East, among a docile people accustomed to slavish obedience, strengthened him in his belief that there was no nay to his eye-will. His pride as well as his heart was wounded, the flight of Ligia was unintelligible to him. He wracked his head in striving to solve the puzzle. He felt that Actia told the truth that Ligia was not indifferent to him, yet if this were so, why did she prefer vagrancy and misery to his love, to his caresses, and to his luxurious home? He could not answer this question. He only had an undefinable comprehension that between him and Ligia, between her feelings and his, between the world of Ligia and Pomponia and that in which he and Petronius lived, there existed a discrepancy as deep and impassable as an abyss. His one thought was that he must lose Ligia, but at that thought he lost all the remnant of self-control which Petronius sought to bolster up. There were times when he knew not whether he would love or hate Ligia in case he found her, but one thing he knew was that he must find her, better that she was swallowed up in the bowels of the earth than that he should surrender her. The strength of his imagination often conjured her up visibly before his eyes. He recalled almost every word that he had ever spoken to her or heard from her. He felt her near him, felt her lying on his bosom in his arms, and pride and passion reawakened in him like flame. He loved her and called upon her, and when he remembered that she loved him in turn and might yield willingly to his desire, a deep sadness overcame him. This sadness flooded his heart like gigantic sea waves. At times his face grew livid from anger, his inward passion would have riven his heart had he not found solace in gloating over the tortures which he would inflict upon Ligia if he found her, in vengeance for the tortures she had inflicted upon him. He desired not merely to possess her, but to possess her as an abject and humiliated slave. Nevertheless he felt that if the choice were given him to be her slave or never to see her, he would rather be her slave. He reveled in the very thought of the scars that his merciless whip would inflict upon her rosy body, but simultaneously a wild desire arose within him to kiss those scars. He even thought that he would be happy if he could kill her. The torture, torment, excitement, and doubt told upon his health, and even upon his manly beauty. He became cruel and unreasonable. Slaves and freedmen approached him trembling. He punished them without mercy and without pretext, and they grew to hate him secretly. He recognized this and felt his isolation still more keenly and reeked a still bitterer and more unreasonable revenge. With Kylo alone he was on friendly terms, for he feared that Kylo might give up his search. Kylo devined the reason, established greater control over him, and grew more domineering in his demands. At first he had assured Vinicius that the task would be easily and speedily accomplished. Now he inwardly exerted himself to invent new difficulties, and, although holding out the hope of ultimate success, insisted that time was needed. Finally, after many days had passed, he arrived with so trouble to look that the young man paled at the sight of him. Springing up he had barely strength to ask him, Is she not among the Christians? Of course she is, answered Kylo, but among them I have found a physician, Glockus. What of that? Who is Glockus? Master, hast thou forgotten the old man with whom I traveled from Naples to Rome, in whose defense I lost these two fingers, a loss that has deprived me of the use of a pen? The robbers who carried off his wife and children stabbed him with a knife. I left him in a dying condition at a tavern in Minterni, and mourned for him a long time, but alas I have now ascertained that he is alive and a member of the Christian community in Rome. Vinicius, who could not catch the drift of this speech, but only understood that Glockus in some way was an obstacle in his path, lost his rising impatience, and said, You should be grateful for thy assistance, and now aid thee in return. Ye honourable tribune, but if the gods themselves are not always grateful, what can we expect from men? Ye he should be grateful, but alas he is an old man. His mind is bowed and darkened by age and disappointment. I learn not only that he is ungrateful, but that he has accused me to his fellow Christians, saying that I did conspire with the thieves, and that I am the cause of all his misfortunes, such as my reward for my two lost fingers. Cateph, cried Vinicius, I know that he tells the truth. Then now knowest more than he does, for his is only a guess, but that guess would suffice for him to call the Christians to aid him in some cruel revenge. He would certainly have done this sooner and found many willing Christians, but that happily he knows not my name. In the house of prayer where I ran against him he did not recognise me, but I recognised him at once. My first impulse would have been to throw myself on his neck. Prudence and long habits of self-restraint preserved me from this, but on leaving the place I made inquiries and learned from his acquaintances that this was a man who had been betrayed by his companion on the way from Naples, and that is how I know what story he gives out. What is all this to me? Tell me, what sawest thou in the house of prayer? It may be nothing to the master, but is everything to me, as I wish my wisdom to survive me, rather would I renounce the reward thou hast offered, and sacrifice my life for empty gain. A true philosopher can always live without lucre and devote his time to the search for wisdom. Vinicius bent upon him a menacing look, and said in a voice that trembled with wrath, who told thee that death was more certain at the hands of Glockus than of mine, and how knowest thou that I will not bury thee even now like a dog in my garden? Kylo caught that glance and trembled, he knew that one more unguarded remark might destroy him. I will seek, master, and I will find, he cried hastily. A silence followed, only the heavy breathing of Vinicius and the far-off songs of slaves at work in the garden could be heard, not until Kylo had assured himself that the young tribune had grown calmer, did he resume the conversation. Death hath often passed so close as to touch me, but I looked at it with the coldness of a Socrates. No, master, I have not said that I would renounce the search for the girl, but only that this search involves much danger for me. There was a time when thou didst doubt the very existence of a certain Euryceus, but thou didst ascertain with thine own eyes that the son of my father told thee the truth. Now thou thinkest that I have conjured up an imaginary Glockus. Alas, were he really a fiction, and could I walk among the Christians as safely as of yore? I would cheerfully give up the poor old slave whom three days ago I purchased for my assistance in my old age and decrepitude. But, master, Glockus is alive. Were he to see me even once, thou wouldst never see me again. One who would discover the girl, he ceased dried his eyes and continued, so long as Glockus is alive, how can I continue my search for her, when I may meet him at any moment. If I meet him I am lost, and with me the search is lost. What dost thou think of doing? What is thy advice? What is thy decision? asked Venetius. Master, Aristotle teaches that small things must be sacrificed to great. King Priam always said that old age is a heavy burden. This burden has oppressed the aged Glockus for long years, so heavily indeed that death would be a benefaction. And indeed what is death? According to Seneca, it is but a release. Keep thy jesting for Patronius, not for me. Tell me thy intentions. If that you be a jest, may the gods allow me to remain a jester for ever. I wish to put Glockus out of the way. While he lives, my life and the search are in the greatest danger. Hire men to beat him to death with clubs, I will pay the bill. Master, thou wilt only go to needless expense and disclose thy secrets in vain. There are as many rascals in Rome as there are grains of sand in the arena, thou knowest not what might happen if an honest man needed their base services. No were they tribunes, opposed the watchmen caught the murderers in the act. They would undoubtedly reveal the name of him who had hired them, and great trouble might follow. Tis not I that will be denounced, for they know not my name. Thou art wrong in failing to trust me. Thou wouldst defile my sincerity with mire. Two things interest me, the wholeness of my skin, and the reward which thou hast promised me. How much dost thou need? I need a thousand cesterces, for look, you master, I must find honest rascals, who will not disappear after taking bribes and leave no trace behind them. Good work requires good pay. Some things should be added also for me to wipe away the tears of sorrow that I will shed over Glockus. The gods be my witness how I love him. Could I get the thousand cesterces to-day? In two days his soul will be wandering in Hades, then and there, if souls retain the power of memory and of reason, he will learn how deeply I loved him. I will find the men this very day, and tell them that for every day of Glockus's continued existence one hundred cesterces will be subtracted from their pay, then there will be no failure. Venisius once more promised him the stipulated sum. He forbade him, however, to speak further of Glockus. He also questioned him as to what news he brought, where he had been in the interval, what he had seen, and what he had discovered. But Kylo had little news to tell. He had been in two more places of prayer. He had carefully watched every one, especially the women, but had seen no one who bore any resemblance to Ligia. The Christians all looked upon him as one of themselves. Ever since the time when he had ransomed the son of Euryseus, they had honored him as one who trod in the ways of Christ. He learned further that their great teacher, Paul of Tarsus, was now in Rome, imprisoned on charges preferred by the Jews, and he had determined to make his acquaintance. He was most overjoyed with the additional news that the greatest of all the sect, a disciple of Christ, to whom had been confided the administration of the entire Christian world, might arrive in Rome at any moment. All the Christians were anxious to see him and to hear his teachings. There would be great gatherings in which Kylo himself would be present. He would bring Venisius there in disguise, and they would certainly find Ligia. If Glocus were out of the way there would be small peril in all this. The Christians might plan revenge, but they were usually a peaceful people. And now Kylo began to explain with some enthusiasm that he had never found them to engage in any debauchery, nor to poison wells and fountains, nor to preach enmity to humanity, nor to worship an ass, nor to feed on the flesh of children. Nay, these things he had never seen. True, among them might be found persons who would do away with Glocus, but their teaching, so far as he knew, would not incite them to crime. On the contrary, it commanded forgiveness even to the wronged. Venisius recalled what Pomponia Grisina had said to him at Actias, and listened with delight to the words of Kylo, though sometimes he felt that he hated Ligia, he was relieved to hear that the sect to which she and Pomponia belonged was neither criminal nor disgusting. An indescribable feeling rose within him, that these unknown teachings and the mysterious reverence which they paid to Christ created a chasm between him and Ligia, so he began to hate those teachings and to fear them. End of Part 1, Chapter 16