 Part 2 Chapter 7 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 Binyon and Milevsky. Part 2, Chapter 7. No reply came to this letter. Patronius did not write, evidently expecting that Nero at any moment might command a return to Rome. In fact the rumor of a contemplated return spread throughout the metropolis, awakening a lively joy in the hearts of the mob, eager for games and the distribution of corn and olive oil, great stores of which had accumulated in Ostia. Helius, Nero's freedman, finally announced the return to the Senate. But Nero, having embarked with his court at the promontory of Mycenum, returned slowly, landing at every city along the coasts to rest or to exhibit himself in the theatres. In Menturni, where he sang in public, he spent over ten days. He even thought of returning to Naples, there to enjoy the spring which had come earlier and warmer than usual. During all this time, Vinicius remained shut up in his home, thinking of Ligia, and of all the new things which had entered his soul, and brought into it hitherto unknown sensations and ideas. Glockus called upon him from time to time. His visits filled Vinicius with inward joy, for he could speak with the physician of Ligia. Glockus, it is true, knew not her hiding place, but he assured Vinicius that the elders surrounded her with protecting care. Once, moved by the melancholy of the young patrician, he told how the apostle Peter had rebuked Crispus for reproaching Ligia with her earthly love. Vinicius, hearing this, paled with emotion. More than once it had seemed to him that Ligia was not indifferent to him, but quite as often he fell into doubt and uncertainty. Now, for the first time, he heard from strange lips, from the lips of a Christian, the confirmation of his hopes. In the first moment of gratitude he would have run to Peter. Learning, however, that he was not in the city, but was preaching in the country, he implored Glockus to bring him back, promising to make liberal donations to the poor of the community. It seemed to him also that if Ligia loved, all obstacles were removed, as he was ready at any moment to do homage to Christ. But though Glockus strongly urged him to receive baptism, he would not assure him that thereby he would win Ligia at once, and told him that he must desire baptism for its own sake, and for the sake of Christ, and not for alien objects. One needs also a Christian soul, he said, and Venisius, though he grew wroth at every obstacle, had now begun to understand that Glockus as a Christian said only what he ought to say. He did not yet fully realize that one of the most radical changes in his own nature was that previously he had measured men and things only through his own egoism. Nevertheless, he was now gradually accustoming himself to the thought that the eyes of others might see differently, that the hearts of others might feel differently, that personal rights did not always mean personal gain. The wish often seized him to see Paul of Tarsus, whose words interested and moved him. He conjured up arguments against his creed, he strove against him in thought, nevertheless he would feign see him. But Paul had gone to Euryseum. As the visits of Glockus grew rarer, Venisius found himself in utter solitude. Again he began to traverse the alleys near Sabora and the narrow streets of the trans-Tiber in the hope of catching even a far-off glimpse of Ligia. When this hope was disappointed, weariness and impatience overpowered him. At length the time came when his old nature reasserted itself. It was like the onslaught of a wave at high tide on the shore whence it had retired. He said to himself that he had made a fool of himself to no purpose, that he had filled his mind with things which brought only sorrow in their train, that he ought to make life yield him all it could. He resolves to forget Ligia, or at least to seek joy and delight from all other sources. He felt that this trial was the last, so he threw himself into the turmoil of life with all the blind passion of his peculiar nature. Life itself seemed to invite him. Rome, half-dead and deserted during the winter months, had begun to revive with the hope of Caesar's speedy return. Preparations were going on for his solemn reception. Spring had come. The snows on the crests of the Alban hills had melted away under the breath of African winds. Violets covered the lawns in the gardens. The forum and the field of Mars swarmed with people basking in the growing heat of the sun. On the Appian Way, the drive outside the city, a stream of chariots, richly comparisoned and adorned, passed to and fro. The usual excursions to the Alban hills had begun. Young women, under pretext of worshipping Juno in Lanuvium, or Diana in Orisium, stole away from home in search of new impressions of society's reunions and of pleasures without the city walls. Here one day Vinicius, among the splendid chariots that crowded the way, caught sight of one more magnificent than all the car of Chrysothomus, Petronius' mistress. Two Malossian dogs preceded it. A crowd of young men and aged senators, detained by their duties in the city, surrounded it. Chrysothomus, driving four Corsican ponies, scattered smiles around her and gaily flecked her golden whip. Perceiving Vinicius, she reigned up her steeds and made him mount beside her. She drove him to a banquet which lasted all night. Vinicius drank so deeply that he knew nothing when he was born home. But he could remember that when Chrysothomus mentioned the name of Ligia, he was indignant and in his drunken wrath emptied a vessel of Falernian wine upon her head. Recalling this in his sober state his anger returned. Next day Chrysothomus, evidently forgetting the insult, called at his house, and once more drove him along the Appian Way. She subbed with him that night and confessed that she had wearied not only of Petronius but of his lyreste and that her heart was now free. All that week they appeared together, but the connection did not seem likely to last. After the incident of the Falernian wine Ligia's name was never recalled. Nevertheless Vinicius could not banish the thought of her. He still retained the feeling that her eyes were ever gazing upon him, and that feeling made his heart sink. Discontented with himself he could not free himself from the consciousness that he was paining Ligia, nor from the remorse with which this consciousness afflicted him. After the first scene of jealousy raised by Chrysothomus on account of two Syrian girls whom he had bought, he rudely dismissed her. Not yet it is true did he cease to wallow in pleasures and debaucheries, but now he seemed to be urged on by a desire to spite Ligia. At last he discerned that the thought of Ligia never left him for a moment, that she was the motive at once of his bad actions and his good, that he cared for nothing in the world save only for her. Then weariness and disgust overcame him. Pleasure became abhorrent to him and left only remorse behind it. He knew he was wretched, but this last emotion filled him with immeasurable wonderment. Once he had accepted as good everything that gratified his senses. In the end he fell into an utter apathy, from which even the news of Nero's approach could not arouse him. Nothing interested him. He did not even call on Petronius until the latter sent him an invitation and his own letter. Though he was joyfully greeted he responded unwillingly to all interrogations. But at last his long repressed thoughts and emotions burst their bounds and rushed from his lips in an abundant torrent of words. Once more he told in full detail the story of his search for Ligia, of his stay with the Christians, of all that he had seen and heard among them, and of all that had passed through his head and his heart. And then he complained that he had plunged into a chaos of mind where all peace had abandoned him, together with all faculty of judgment and discernment. Nothing attracted him. Everything had lost its savor. He knew not what to think nor how to act. He was ready both to honor Christ and to persecute him. He recognized the sublimity of his creed, yet at the same time he felt towards it an overpowering aversion. He recognized that even if he possessed Ligia he would not possess her entirely, for he must share her with Christ. In short in the midst of life he had no real life. He had neither hope nor morrow nor belief in happiness. He was encompassed by darkness and was groping for an exit which he could not find. Petronius, during all this narration, gazed at his changed face, at his hands which he outstretched with a strange gesture as if he were really groping his way and pondered deeply. Then rising he approached Vinicius and ran his fingers through the hair above his ears. "'Knowest thou?' he asked, that there are several grey hairs on thy temple. "'That may well be,' was the reply, I should not wonder if they should soon all grow white.' A hush fell upon them. Petronius was a man of thought. More than once had he pondered on life and the human soul. In a general way, life in the world wherein they both lived could be outwardly happy or unhappy, but inwardly its usual want was calm. Just as lightning or earthquake might overthrow a temple, so unhappiness could destroy life. In itself, however, it consisted of simple and harmonious lines free from all entanglements. But something altogether different was hinted at by the words of Vinicius. For the first time Petronius stood face to face with a complication of spiritual snarls which no one here to fore had unraveled. He was wise enough to value, but with all his cleverness he could not answer his nephew's questions. After a long pause he spoke, "'This may be mere sorcery. So I have thought. More than once has it seemed to me that both of us were under a spell. Suppose thou works to go to the priests of Serapis. Doubtless among them there are many tricksters, nevertheless there may be others who possess strange secrets.' He spoke, however, without faith and in a halting voice. He felt how hollow and even ridiculous these words must sound on his lips. Vinicius rubbed his forehead. "'Sorceries,' he cried, "'I have seen sorcerers who rested unknown and subterranean forces to their own ends. I have seen sorcerers who used these forces to the injury of their foes, but Christians dwell in poverty, forgive their enemies, proclaim humility, virtue, and charity. What could they gain from sorceries? Why should they cast spells?' Patronius was peaked that all his wit could find no adequate reply. Unwilling to confess this, however, he jumped at the first thought that offered. "'Tis a new sect,' he said, after a pause, he added, "'by the divine dwellers in Paphion groves, how all this would ruin life, thou admirest the purity and the mildness of those people, but I tell thee that they are evil, for they are enemies of life, even like diseases or death itself. We already have our fill of these enemies, we need no addition from the Christians. Count them up, diseases, Caesar, to Jolinas, Caesar's poems, coblos who rule over the descendants of the old quinites, freedmen who sit in the senate, by cast or tis enough, tis a pernicious and disgusting sect. Has thou made any effort to cast off this melancholy, and take some small enjoyment out of life? I have tried.' Patronius laughed. "'Treater!' he cried. Gossip flies quickly among slaves. Thou hast stolen Chrysothemus away from me.' Venisius waved his hand in disgust. "'All the same, I thank thee,' said Patronius. "'I will send her a pair of slippers embroidered with pearls. In my love language it means walk off. I owe thee a double gratitude. First, that thou didst not steal Eunice. Secondly, that thou didst free me from Chrysothemus. Harken, thou seest before thee a man who rose early, bathed, banqueted, possessed Chrysothemus, wrote satires, and even sometimes interwoven poetry with prose, but who was as strightfully bored as Caesar himself, and often knew not how to chase away the gloomiest thoughts. Knowest thou why this was so? merely because I was seeking afar what was right close to me. A beautiful woman is always worth her weight in gold. But if such a woman loves, she is above all price. The treasures of Varies could not purchase her. So now I set myself this rule of action. I shall fill my life with happiness as a cup with the finest wine produced on earth, and drink till my hand withers and my lips pale. What may happen after I care not. This is my newest philosophy. It is the same thou hast always professed. There is nothing new in it. It has substance, something previously lacking. He called for Eunice, who entered, clad in white drapery, golden-haired, a slave no longer but a goddess of love and joy. He opened his arms. Come! he cried. She ran up to him. She leaped on his knee. She put her arms around his neck, and nestled her head upon his breast. Vinicius watched her cheeks grow crimson, and her eyes melt slowly in mist. They formed a marvellous group of love and happiness. Petronius reached his hand to a shallow vase standing on the nearby table, and, taking a handful of violets, sprinkled them on the head, the breast, and the robe of Eunice. He snatched the tunic from her shoulders and said, Happy is he who, like me, has found love enclosed in so lovely a form. At times I deem we are two gods. Look at her thyself. Athpraxitellis, or Miran, or Scopus, or Lysius himself carved more marvellous lines. Is there in Paros or Pentilius marble like this? Warm, rosy, pulsating with love? They are men who kiss the edges of vases, but I prefer to seek delight where it can be truly found. And he passed his lips over her shoulders and her neck. She trembled visibly, her eyes closed and then opened, with an expression of ineffable joy. Petronius lifted his noble head and addressed Vinicius. Think now, what are thy gloomy Christians compared with this, if thou canst not see the difference, go to them, but this sight will cure thee. Vinicius distended his nostrils, which were invaded by the perfume of violets that pervaded the room, his face paled. Oh, if he could only press his lips on the shoulders of Ligia, it would be a sacrilegious delight so great that the world might then pass away and he would care not. But accustomed now to a ready analysis of his own emotions, he noticed that even at that moment he thought of Ligia and her only. Eunice, thou divine one, cried Petronius, order the garlands for our heads and a good breakfast. When she had left, he turned to Vinicius. I would have set her free, but what was her answer? I would rather be thy slave than Caesar's wife. She refused to accept her liberty. I freed her without her knowledge. The praetor did this for me without insisting on her presence. But she knows this not, nor does she know that this home with all my jewels save only the gems will belong to her if I die. He rose and took a few steps up and down the room. Love, he resumed, changes some more and others less, but it has greatly changed me. Once I loved the odor of verbinas, but Eunice prefers violets. Hence I love them above all other flowers, and since spring arrived we have breathed nothing but violets. He stopped in front of Vinicius. And thou, he asked, dost thou still remain true to the perfume of Nard? Give me peace, implored the young man. I wished thou to look on Eunice. I thought of her only, because thou too, perchance art seeking afar that which is near at hand. Perchance for thee too, in the dormitories of thy slaves, may throb some such loyal and simple heart. Put this balsam upon thy wounds. Ligia, thou sayest, loves thee. Granted, she does. But what sort of love is that which can be renounced? Does not the very renouncement mean that there is something more powerful? No, my beloved, Ligia is not Eunice. Tis all but one long torment. I saw thee kissing the shoulders of Eunice, and the thought came to me that if Ligia would bear her shoulders to me, the ground might open next minute under our feet, and I would not care. But an awful fear seized me at the very thought, as though I had assaulted a Vestal Virgin or debauched a goddess. True, Ligia is not Eunice. But I see the difference in another way then, thou. Love has changed thy nostrils as to make thee prefer violets to verbinas. In me the changes in my soul, despite my fears and my desires, so that I prefer Ligia to such as she is rather than to resemble others. Petronius shrugged his shoulders. If that be so, no wrong has been done thee. But I fail to understand. Alas, too true, we can understand each other no longer. There was silence once more, then Petronius resumed violently. May Hades engulf thy Christians. They have filled thee with unrest. They have destroyed thy hold upon life. To Hades with them, thou art mistaken in thinking their creed is good, for good is that only which gives man happiness, and happiness consists in beauty, love, power. These things they call vanity. Thou art mistaken in thinking they are just, for if we must return good for evil, what shall we return for good? And if the same return be made for good and evil, why shall man be good? No, the return is not the same. According to their creed, it begins in a future life which is eternal. The future life does not interest me, for we have yet to find whether we can see without eyes. In this life the Christians are mere weaklings. Ursus strangled Croto because he has limbs of iron, but these are imbeciles, and the future cannot belong to imbeciles. I told you that for them life begins with death. That is as if one were to say day begins with night. Does thou propose to carry off the girl? No, I cannot return evil for her good. Moreover, I have sworn not to do so. Does thou contemplate accepting the religion of Christ? I wish to do so, but my nature revolts. Can thou forget, Ligia? No, then travel. Breakfast was now announced by the slaves. Petronius, who thought he had hit upon a good idea, said on the way to the dining room, Thou hast traveled over a large part of the world, but only as a soldier hurrying to his destination, who does not stop on the way. Go with us to Achia. Caesar has not given up the idea. He will stop along the way, will sing, receive garlands, despoil temples, and in the end will return in triumph to Italy. It will be like a procession of barcus and Apollo in one person. Augustalis and their consorts and thousands of liars, by Castor, will be well worth seeing, for nothing like it has ever existed in the world. He stretched himself beside Eunice on a couch before the table. A slave placed a garland of anemones upon his head. What didst thou see in the service of Corbulo, he resumed? Nothing. Didst thou visit the Grecian temple as I did? I, who for two years passed from guide to guide. Didst thou visit roads to view the site of the Colossus? Didst thou see in Panopias in Phosis? The clay from which Prometheus moulded man, in Sparta the eggs which leader laid, or in Athens the famed Sarmatian armour made of horses hoofs, or in Ubia, Agamemnon's ship, or the garblet which was modelled over the left breast of Helena? Didst thou see Alexandria, Memphis, the pyramids, the hair of Isis, which she tore out of her head in bewailing Osiris? Didst thou hear the moaning music of Memnon? The world is wide. All does not end at the trans-Tiber. I shall accompany Caesar. On his return I shall leave him and go to Cyprus, for my little golden-haired goddess desires that we should together offer up doves to Venus. For know that what she wishes must be done. I am thy slave, whispered Eunice. He leaned his wreathed head upon her bosom and smiled. If so, I am the slave of a slave, he said. From thy feet to thy head, O my Divinity, I love thee. Turning to Vinicius, he said, Go with us to Cyprus. Remember that thou must first call on Caesar. Tis a pity that thou hast not yet seen him. Tijellinus is only too ready to use this to thy harm. Though he has no personal hatred to thee, still as my sister's son, he cannot love thee. We will explain that thou wert unwell. We must think over what reply thou shalt give if Nero asks about Ligia. It might be best for thee to make a gesture with thy hands, and say that she was with thee until she worried thee. This he will understand, and that sickness detain thee at home, that thy fever was increased by sorrow that thou couldst not be present in Naples to hear his singing, that thy health was only restored by the hope of now at last hearing him. Fear no lie, no exaggeration. Tijellinus swears that he will think of something stupendous to say to Caesar. I fear he may undermine me. I have some fears even of thee. Know us thou, said Vinicius, that there are men who do not fear Caesar, and who live as calmly as if he were not in the same world. I know whom thou meanest, the Christians. Yes, they are the only ones. But as to us, what is our life save a constant fear? A truce to the Christians. They fear not Caesar, because it is possible he has never heard of them. At all events he knows nothing of their creed, and they interest him no more than withered leaves. But I tell thee they are imbeciles. Thou feelest this thyself. If thy nature revolts at their creed, it is because thou feelest their imbecility. Thou art a man of different clay, therefore a truce to them. We can live and die. What more they can do no one knows. These words struck Vinicius. On his return home he wondered whether after all it might not be true that the charity and purity of the Christians was but a sign of their imbecility. Surely men of virility and character could not forgive in this way. Was not this the real secret of the aversion which his Roman soul felt towards this creed? We can live and die, said Petronius. As to them they knew forgiveness only, they knew neither true love nor true hatred. Part II. 8 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 Binyon and Malevsky. Part II. CHAPTER VIII. Nero soon, wearied of Rome, regretted his return and decided on a new visit to Achia. He issued an edict explaining that his absence would not be a long one and that public affairs would not suffer in any way. Accompanied by the Augustalis, among whom was Vinicius, he repaired to the capital to offer sacrifices for an auspicious journey. But next day at the temple of Vesta an event took place which changed all his plans. Nero had no belief in the gods, but he feared them. The mysterious Vesta especially filled him with such dread that in presence of the goddess and her sacred fire his hair rose on end, his teeth chattered, a shiver ran through his lips, and he fainted in the arms of Vinicius who happened to stand behind him. They carried him out of the temple and bore him to the Palatine, though he soon recovered consciousness he did not leave his bed all that day. To the amazement of all present he announced that he had deferred his journey for that the goddess had secretly warned from undue haste. An hour later it was publicly announced in Rome that Caesar, seeing the saddened visages of his people, towards whom he felt as a father to his children, would remain to share their joys and their fate. The mob rejoiced at this decision which assured them a continuance of the games and bread, assembled in large numbers before the Palatine gate, and shouted loud and long in honor of divine Caesar. The latter, pausing a moment from the game of dice with which he was amusing himself with the Augustalis, said, Yes, it was right to defer the journey. It hath been prophesied that Egypt and the Orient cannot escape from my dominion, hence I will not lose a Kia. I will order a canal to be cut through the isthmus of Corinth, and we will erect monuments in Egypt which will make the pyramids seem childish toys. I will build a Sphinx seven times larger than that which gazes at the desert from Memphis, and will command that my face be put upon it. Succeeding ages will talk only of this monument and of me. In thy verses thou hast already erected a monument not seven times merely, but thrice seven times greater than the pyramid of Keops, said Petronius. And what of my singing, asked Nero, alas, could men only raise to thee a statue like that of Memnon to resound with thy voice at sunrise? Then indeed for all ages would the neighbouring seas swarm with vessels, in which crowds from all the three parts of the earth would come to hearken to thy voice. Alas, indeed, what man could do this, answered Nero, nevertheless thou canst order a figure of thyself driving a chariot to be carved in basalt. Tis true, I will do it. That will indeed be a boon to humanity. In Egypt I will wed with the moon, who is now a widow, and be a god in fact. Yea, and thou wilt give us stars for wives, and we will form a new constellation which shall be known as the constellation of Nero. Wed Vitellius with the Nile so that he breed hippopotamuses, give the desert to Tijellinus, and let him become the king of the jackals. And what shall I have, asked Vitellius? May Appies bless thee, thou hast given us such magnificent games in Beneventum, that I can wish thee no evil, make a pair of boots for the Sphinx, whose paws may have grow cold in the night do's, and sandals for the colossi which lined the ways leading to the temples, so each may find a suitable occupation. For instance, Domitius Arthur, famed for his honesty, will be the treasurer. I rejoice so Caesar when thou dreamest of Egypt. I am only sorry because thou hast put off thy journey. Your mortal eyes saw not, answered Nero, for the goddess becomes invisible to whom she wills. Know that when I was in the temple of Vesta she herself stood beside me, and said in my ear, Go not as yet. This unexpected thing affrighted me, though I ought to be grateful for so marked a sign of the protection of the gods. We were all affrighted, put in Tijellinus. The Vestal Rubria fainted. Rubria! cried Nero, what a snowy neck she has. But she blushes at sight of thee, Divine Caesar. Yes, I have noticed his strange. There is something divine in every Vestal, and Rubria is most beautiful. He pondered for a moment, then he resumed. Tell me, why is it that men fear Vesta more than other gods? What is the reason? I myself was affrighted today, though I am the high priest. I can just remember that I was falling backward, and should have struck the ground had not someone supported me. Who was he? I, answered Venetius. What thou? Oh, fierce Aries! Why were't thou not in benaventum? I was told that thou were't sick. In truth thy face has changed, but I heard that Croto sought to kill thee. Is this true? Yea, it is. He broke my arm, but I succeeded in defending myself. With the broken arm? A barbarian helped me, who was stronger than Croto. Nero stared with amazement. Stronger than Croto? Surely thou art jesting. Croto was the strongest of men, but now the Ethiopian Syphax hath that honour. I only tell thee, Caesar, what mine own eyes have seen. Where is the pearl? Has he become king of Nime? I know not, Caesar. I have lost him from sight. But thou knowest at least to what nation he belongs. Nay, I had a broken arm and no heart for questioning. Seek and find him for me. I will take that upon myself, said Tijalinas. Nero continued, still addressing Vinicius. I thank thee for having supported me. A fall might have broken my head. Once thou were taboon companion, but since thy campaign with Corpullo thou hast become unsociable, and I seldom see thee. He paused and then resumed. What of the maiden with the narrow hips whom thou didst love, and whom I took from the alley for thee? Vinicius grew confused. Luckily Petronius stepped into his aid. I will wager thee, O Lord, that he has forgotten her. See how confused he is. Ask him how many successors that maiden has had. He will be unable to answer. The Vinicii are good soldiers, but still better breeders. Punish him, O Lord. Invite him not to the banquet which Tijalinas has promised to prepare in thy honour on the part of a gripper. Nay, not that. I trust that Tijalinas will not allow us to lack for beauties. How could the graces be absent where Cupid is present, said Tijalinas? Splend of ours, me! sighed Nero. I have remained in Rome at the bidding of the goddess, but I cannot bear it. I will go to Antium. I suffocate in these narrow streets amid these falling houses, these foul alleys, stenches of all sorts reach even here to my house and gardens. Would that an earthquake might destroy Rome, or that some angry god might raise it to the ground? Then I would show you how a city ought to be built worthy to be the head of the world and my capital. Caesar, said Tijalinas, thou sayest, would that some angry god might destroy the city? Does thou mean this? Yes, but what then? Art thou not a god? Nero waved his hand with a gesture of weariness. We shall see what thou art preparing for us on the part of a gripper. Later I will go to Antium. Ye are small and understand not what great things I need. Then he closed his eyes as an indication that he needed rest. The Augustalis withdrew. Petronius accompanied Vinicius from the imperial presence. So it appears that thou art invited to take part in our amusements. Bronzebeard has given up his journey, but on that account he will grow madder than ever. He will treat the city as though it were simply his own house. Seek thou distraction and oblivion in the outcome of that madness. Well, by Pluto, we have conquered the whole world. We have now a right to amuse ourselves. Thou, Marcus, art a comely lad, that is one reason why I like thee. By Diana of Ephesus, couldn't thou only see thy manly brow, thy face in which shines the ancient blood of the Choirites. Others look like freedmen beside thee. Ye, were it not for her wild creed, Lygia would be to-day in thy house. Attempt no further argument with me that the Christians are not enemies of life and of humanity. They behaved well to thee, be grateful and thou wilt, but in thy place I should hate their religion and seek pleasure wherever it can be found. I repeat that thou art a comely lad, and Rome swarms with divorces. My only wonder is that this does not pain thee. Who says so? I have long been pained by it, but I am not of thy age, and I have tastes which thou dost lack. I love books, thou carest not for them. I love poetry, gyms, and myriads of things to which thou wouldst not spare a glance. I have pains in my back which thou hast not, and to conclude, I have found Eunice, and thou hast found nothing to resemble her. I feel pleasure in my own home among works of art. I will never make an esthete of thee. I know that in life I will find nothing above what I have already found. As to thee thou art constantly expecting and seeking something. Should death come to thee, not withstanding thy courage and thy melancholy, thou wouldst die with wonder at the thought of leaving the world. I, on the other hand, would accept it as a necessity, satisfied that there is no fruit in this world which I have not tasted. I neither hurry nor lag behind. I shall only strive to enjoy myself to the last. The world is full of cheerful skeptics. I look on the Stoics as fools, but Stoicism at least gives fortitude to men, while thy Christians bring gloom into the world, and gloom in life is like rain in nature. Know as thou what I have learned, that as an adjunct to the banquet which Tegelenus is preparing, temporary houses of assignation will be established on the pond of Agrippa, and therein will be gathered women from the first families in Rome. May as thou not find there someone beautiful enough to console thee? There will be virgins even, making their first steps into the world as nymphs, such is our Roman Caesar-dum. The weather is still pleasant, the south wind will warm the water, yet not bring out pimples upon nude bodies. And know, Narcissus, that not one will be there to resist thee, not one, even though she be a Vestal Virgin. Venisius tapped his hand with his palm, like a man possessed by one thought. Perchance it may be my fate to meet such a woman. It happened to thee among the Christians, but people whose symbol is a cross cannot be other than they are. Listen, Greece was beautiful and created the wisdom of the world, we created power. And what thinkest thou can this religion create? If thou knowest explain it to me, for by Pollux I cannot conceive. Venisius shrugged his shoulders. One might think that thou fierest I may become a Christian. I am afraid thou hast ruined thy life. If thou canst not be Greece be Rome possess and enjoy. Our very insanities have a certain sanity, for at least they clothe a thought. I despise Bronzebeard, because he is a Greek Mountabank. If he acted the Roman, I would assert that he was right in his worst insanity. Promise me that if on thy return thou meetest a Christian, thou will stick out thy tongue at him. If it be the physician Glockus, he will not be surprised. So fare well till we meet again on the pond of a gripper. End of Part 2, Chapter 8 Part 2, Chapter 9 of Cuovodis, A Tale of the Time of Nero This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Cuovodis, by Henrik Sinkhevich, translated by Binyonant Malevsky. Part 2, Chapter 9 The groves by the pond of a gripper were surrounded by Praetorians, so that the multitude of spectators might not be in the way of Nero and his guests. Everybody in Rome distinguished for wit, beauty, or intellect thronged to the banquet. Nothing to equal it had ever been known in the chronicles of the city. Tijalinas desired to reward Caesar for postponing the journey to Achia, to excel all who had ever feasted Nero, and to prove that no one could amuse and entertain him so magnificently. To this end, while with Caesar at Naples and later at Rome, he had made his preparations. He had sent orders to the remotest parts of the world for beasts, birds, rare fishes and plants, and for such vessels and cloths as would increase the splendor of the occasion. The revenues of entire provinces were lavished in the maddest plants. The all-powerful favorite had nothing to restrain him. His influence waxed greater every day. Tijalinas was not more beloved by Nero than others, but he had grown indispensable. Patronius incomparably excelled him in culture, intellect, and wit. His conversation was far more amusing to Caesar. Unhappily he excelled Caesar himself. He awoke the tyrant's jealousy. He knew not how to be a willing tool in all things. When it came to matters of taste Caesar feared his opinion. With Tijalinas, on the other hand, Nero felt no constraint. The very name Arbiter elegantiarum, bestowed by the general voice upon Patronius, peaked Nero's vanity, for who save himself deserved the title. Tijalinas had sense enough to recognize his own limitations. Knowing that he could not compete with Patronius or Lucan or others who were conspicuous either by lineage, talents, or knowledge, he made up his mind to extinguish them by the loyalty of his services and by the evocation of a splendor that should dazzle Nero. For the banquet itself he had prepared a monster raft built of gilded beams. Its edges were decorated with exquisite shells, fished from the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, which glittered with all the colors of the rainbow. On every side were groups of palms, groves of lotus, and roses in full bloom. Amidst these were hidden fountains that sprinkled perfumes, statues of gods, and gold and silver cages full of birds of brilliantly varied plumage. A tent, or rather the top of a tent, of Syrian purple rested on silver columns. Within the tables prepared for the guests sparkled, like miniature suns, with Alexandrian glass, crystals, and priceless vessels, all plundered from Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor. The raft, which looked like an island garden, was connected by ropes of gold and purple with boats fashioned like fishes, swans, seagulls, and flamingos, wherein, beside painted oars, sat nude oarsmen and oarswomen with forms and faces of marvellous beauty, their hair dressed in oriental modes, or caught in golden nets. On Nero's arrival with Papilla and his Augustalis on the main raft, where they seated themselves under the tent roof, the boats moved, the oars splashed into the water, the golden ropes grew taut, and the raft bearing the banquet and the guests described circles in the pond. Surrounding it were other boats and other rafts, filled with female loot-players and harpists, whose pink bodies against the blue background of the heaven and the waters, and in the reflections from golden instruments, seemed to absorb into themselves this blue and those reflections, ever changing and blooming like flowers. From the groves on the banks, from the gorgeous buildings erected for the day and hidden in the dense foliage, resounded music and song, all the neighborhood and all the groves responded, the echoes scattered around the clangor of horns and trumpets, Caesar himself with Papilla on one side and Pythagoras on the other, marvelled at the site, and marvelled the more when young maids, masquerading as sirens, and covered with green network and imitation of scales, spared no praises to tigelinas, but he glanced up at Petronius from habit, anxious for the opinion of the arbiter. The latter bore himself indifferently, and only when directly questioned made answer, It seems to me, O Lord, that ten thousand nude maidens make less impression than one. Nonetheless, the floating banquet pleased Nero as a novelty. Moreover, such exquisite dishes were served that even the imagination of Apisius would have been outdone, and wines of so many kinds that Otho, who was want to serve Ady, would have hidden under the waters for shame if this luxury had been revealed to him. Besides the women, there were only Augustalis at the tables. Among all these, Venisius was prominent in beauty. Of Yor his face and figure had indicated the soldier by profession, but now pain and sorrow had chiseled his features, as if the plastic hand of a master sculptor had passed over them. His skin had lost the sunburn that had tanned it, there remained on it the golden tinge of Numidian marble, his eyes had grown large and melancholy, but his body retained the powerful lines which had always made it seem as if created for armor. Above the body of a soldier sat the head of a Grecian god, or at least a refined patrician, at once subtle and splendid. When Petronius had told Venisius that none of the ladies of the court either could or would resist him, he spoke as a man of experience. All turned their eyes to him, even Papia, even the Vestal Rubria, whom Caesar had commanded, should be invited. Wines, chilled in mountain snows, soon warmed the hearts and heads of the guests. From out the thickets overhanging the shore shot new boats, fashioned like grasshoppers and dragonflies. The blue surface of the water seemed as if strewn with the petals of flowers, or sprinkled with butterflies. Here and there above the boats floated doves and other birds from India and Africa, held fast by threads of silver and blue. The sun had already overrun the greater part of the sky. Though it was now only the beginning of May, its rays were warm and even hot. The waters rippled with the splash of oars moving in time with the music. No breath of air was stirring. The groves stood motionless, as if lost in contemplation of the sounds and scenes in the water. The raft circled continuously on the pond bearing guests who were becoming drunker and noisier. Before the banquet was half over the order in which the guests had been ranged at table was utterly disrupted. Nero himself had set the example. Rising from his couch he ordered Venisius to yield his place, which was beside the Vestal Rubria. Into the ears of the Vestal Nero whispered in soft tones. Venisius found himself next to Papilla. She stretched out her arm to him and asked him to fasten her loosened bracelet. His hands trembled as he did so. From under her long lashes she shot glances as of modesty, shaking her golden head meanwhile as with denial. The sun, grown larger and redder, slowly sank behind the crests of the groves. Most of the guests were now boisterously intoxicated. Nero to the shore circled the craft. Groups of mummers were discovered among the trees and flowers. Disguised as fawns and satyrs, they played on flutes, bagpipes, and cymbals. They were surrounded by groups of maidens, representing nymphs, dryads, and hemidryads. Darkness closed in upon drunken shouts in honour of Luna resounding from beneath the tent. The groves were lit up with thousands of lamps. From the houses standing on the shore shone myriads of lamps. On the terraces disported new groups, naked like the others, consisting of the wives and daughters of the greatest families in Rome, with voluptuous movements they called to the guests. At last the raft touched the banks. Caesar and the Augustalis vanished in the groves, and scattered themselves through the shameful houses, or intense hidden in the foliage, and grottoes artificially made among the springs and fountains. Madness seized on everyone. No one knew whither Caesar had disappeared. No one knew who was a senator, who a knight, who a musician. Satyrs and fawns pursued the nymphs. With their bachic staffs they struck at the lamps to extinguish them. Darkness fell on many parts of the groves. Everywhere was heard the sound of laughter, or shouts, or whisperings, or the panting of human breasts. Rome had never seen like of this before. Venisius was not drunk, as at the feast in Caesar's palace where Ligia had appeared, but ashamed and bewildered by all that was going on around him, the fever of pleasure seized upon him also. Plunging into the forest he ran around with the others, seeking the dryad that might seem to him the most beautiful. New groups of naked women fled by him with songs and shouts pursued by fawns, satyrs, senators and knights, music was everywhere. At last his eyes caught a band of maidens led by one clad as Diana. He sprang forward, he sought a closer look at the goddess, and then his heart stopped in his breast. He thought that in that goddess, with the crescent moon in her hair, he recognized Ligia. They formed around him in a circling group, all frenzied with emotion. Then, as if they wished him to pursue, they flew away like a herd of antelopes. He stood rooted on the spot, his heart throbbed wildly. The Diana was not indeed Ligia. At close view she did not even resemble her. But the awful fear had exhausted him. Then there came upon him a longing for Ligia such as he had never before experienced. A tremendous wave of love surged into his breast. Never had she seemed to him dearer, purer and more beloved than in this moment of madness and debauchery. A moment ago he himself could have drunk from this cup and taken part in this dissipation and shameless sensuality. But now disgust and abhorrence mastered him. He felt himself stifling. He needed air and the sight of the stars hidden by these infamous groves. He started to fly. But air he could move, a veiled figure appeared before him. It placed its hands upon his shoulders and pouring its burning breath in his face whispered, I love thee come, none will see us, make haste. Vinicius awoke as from a dream. Who art thou? She leaned her breast against him and repeated, make haste, we are alone and I love thee come. Who art thou? Guess. And through her veil she pressed her lips to his, drawing his face to hers till at length breath failed her and she snatched her face away. Tis a night of love, a night of liberty, she cried, catching her breath with an effort. Today everything is allowed, take me. That kiss burned into Vinicius like acid. It filled him with renewed aversion. His soul and heart were elsewhere. For him in the whole world Ligia alone existed. So thrusting the veiled figure aside he cried, Whoever thou beest I love another, I wish thee not. She bent her head. Remove the veil, she said imperiously. At that moment the leaves of a nearby myrtle rustled. The figure vanished like a vision, but as she escaped in the distance her laugh rang back with a strangely ominous sound. Petronius appeared from the thickets. I have heard and seen all, he said. Let us go, hence, replied Vinicius. They passed the houses of shame all gleaming with light, passed the groves and the line of mounted praetorians. Reaching their litter, Petronius said, I will go with thee to thy house. They got into a litter together. Both were silent until they reached the great hall in Vinicius's house. Then Petronius spoke, Knowest thou who that was? he asked. Rubria? queried Vinicius, with a shudder at the very thought, for Rubria was a vestal. No. Who was it then? Petronius lowered his voice. The fire of Vesta hath been defiled, for Rubria was with Caesar, but she who spoke to thee, and he spoke still lower, was the divine Augusta. A hush fell upon them. Caesar, resumed Petronius, failed to conceal from her his passion for Rubria. So she may have wished to revenge herself, but I interrupted thee for the reason that hath thou refused the Augusta after recognizing her, nothing could have saved thee nor Ligia nor perchance myself. Vinicius broke out fiercely. Enough of Rome, enough of Caesar, of banquets of the Augusta, of Tijellinus and the rest of you. I am suffocating. I cannot live in this way. I cannot, dost thou understand? Thou art losing thy head, Vinicius. But she is the only thing I love. Well, what of it? Just this much. I want no other love. I want nothing else, neither your life, nor your banquets, nor your shamelessness, nor your crimes. What ails the art thou a Christian? The young man dropped his head in his hands, and despairingly cried, Not yet, not yet! CHAPTER X Petronius went home shrugging his shoulders. His mind was ill as ease. He saw clearly that he and Vinicius no longer understood each other, that a gulf yawned between them. Once he wielded an immense influence over the young soldier, he had been set up by the latter as a model in everything. A sarcastic word from Petronius could sway him either one way or the other. Now all was changed, so completely that Petronius dared not essay his old methods. Wit and irony, he felt, would glide ineffectually from the new lairs deposited in the mind of Vinicius by contact with those incomprehensible Christians. The experienced skeptic knew that he had lost the key to that soul, discontent and even fear followed, aggravated by the events of that night. Should it be no passing whim in the mind of Augusta, he thought, but a permanent passion, one of two things will happen. Either Vinicius will yield and possibly be ruined by some untoward accident, or what is more probable, he will resist and then he will surely perish, and I, as his relative, may perish with him. Augusta, including the whole family in her wrath, will throw her entire influence on the side of Tijelinas. Both horns of the dilemma are unpleasant. Petronius was a brave man. He had no fear of death. But as he expected nothing from death he did not court it. After long thought he at last decided that the safest course would be to send Vinicius away from Rome on a journey. Ah, could he only add Ligia as a travelling companion, how gladly would he have done it. Still he hoped it would be no hard task to induce him to go alone. He would spread the report in the Palatine that Vinicius was sick. This would save both the nephew and the uncle. Augusta could not be sure that she had been recognized by Vinicius. She might easily believe that she was not, and in that case her vanity had not yet been hopelessly wounded. But the future might open her eyes. That was the danger most to be avoided. Of all things Petronius wished to gain time. He foresaw that if Nero went to Achia, Tijelinas, who had no understanding of art, would descend to a secondary place. In Greece Petronius knew himself certain of victory over all rivals. Meanwhile he resolved to keep his eye on Vinicius and win his consent to the journey. For several days he pondered over a project to obtain from Caesar an edict banishing the Christians from Rome. Then Ligia would depart with the other confessors of Christ. After her would go Vinicius. There would be no further need for persuasion. The thing itself was possible. In fact it was not so long since that the Jews had raised disturbances against the Christians. Claudius, unable to distinguish one from the other, had ejected the Jews. Why should not Nero eject the Christians? Rome would be less crowded without them. After the floating banquet Petronius saw Nero daily, either in the Palatine or other houses. It would be easy to suggest this idea to him, for Nero never resented suggestions that would bring pain or ruin to others. After mature reflection Petronius hit upon a plan. He would give a feast in his own home. At that feast he would obtain the edict from Caesar. He had even a hope, not entirely fallacious, that Caesar might entrust him with its execution. Then he would send Ligia out of Rome with all the consideration due to the mistress of Vinicius. They might go to Bayeae if they chose and amuse themselves with love and with Christianity to their hearts content. He made frequent visits to Vinicius. With all his Roman egoism he could not forego his love for his young kinsmen. Besides he wished to urge him to the journey. Vinicius was now feigning sickness and never showed himself upon the Palatine. Their new plans were resolved every day. At last Petronius heard definitely from Caesar's own lips that in three days he would set out for Antium. Next day he reported the news to Vinicius. The latter had already heard it. That very morning a freedman had brought him a list of the people invited by Caesar. My name is among them and so is thine, he said, that I will find the same list at thy home when thou returnest. Will not I among the invited guests, returned Petronius, it would mean that I had been selected for death, but I hardly expected that such an omission would occur before the journey to Achia. There I shall be too indispensable to Nero. He examined the list. Hardly have we returned to Rome, he complained, but we must leave again and drag ourselves to Antium. There is no alternative. This is no mere invitation. It is a command. And suppose one should not obey. He would receive an invitation to quite a different journey, one from which no traveller returns. Pity thou didst not take my advice and depart from Rome in time. Now there is no help for it. Thou must go to Antium. I must go to Antium? See in what times we live, what base slaves we are. Is this the first time thou hast noticed it? No, but thy argument has been that Christianity is an enemy to life, since it casts it into shackles. Would the shackles be any harder than these we are wearing? Thou hast said Greece created wisdom and beauty and Rome power. Where is our power? Summon Kylo to thee. Converse with him. I have no inclination to philosophize to-day. By Hercules. It was not I that created these times, nor have I to answer for them. Talk we of Antium. Know that great peril awaits thee there. It might be safer to try a fall with that barbarian who strangled Croto. Nevertheless thou canst not refuse. Vinicius carefully waved his hand. Danger, he sniffed, we are all groping in the shadow of death, and every moment some head disappears in that shadow. Shall I remind thee of all those who, possessing a little sense, went safely through the times of Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, and Nero for eighty or ninety years, placed before thee as an example even such a man as Domicius Arthur. He has grown old undisturbed, though all his life long he has been a thief and a scoundrel. Perhaps that was the reason, said Vinicius. He glanced over the list and read, Tijellinus, Vatinius, Sextus Africanus, Aguilinus Regulus, Suilius, Nerolensis, Aporius Marcellus, and so on and so on. What a precious lot of blackards and scoundrels! And these men govern the world! Would they not be better employed in carrying some Egyptian or Syrian divinity through the towns for public exhibition, or in earning their bread by fortune telling or dancing? Yes, or by exhibiting educated monkeys, calculating dogs, or flute playing donkeys, added Petronius. True enough, but let us talk of something more important. Collect thy wits and listen to me. On the Palatine I have reported that thou art sick and canst not leave thy home. But thy name is on this list. Evidently somebody does not believe me and has done this with a purpose. The matter is of no importance to Nero, for thou art only a soldier, with whom at the best he could only converse about the races in the circus. Thou hast no conception of poetry and music, so it is Papilla who hath had thy name placed on the list. This means that her passion is no mere caprice of the moment, but that she wishes to win thee. She is an audacious Augusta. Audacious indeed, for she may destroy thee beyond redemption. May Venus inspire her with some other love as speedily as possible, but as she has cast a wanton eye upon thee, we must exercise the greatest caution. Bronzebeard is beginning to weary of her. He prefers rubria or Pythagoras, but his very vanity would impel him to wreak the most hideous vengeance upon you both. I knew not it was she who addressed me in the grove. Thou were listening, thou knowest my answer, that I loved another and wished nothing of her. By all the plutonian gods, I implore thee not to lose the remnant of thy reason which the Christians have left thee. How can one hesitate when the choice lies between probable and certain ruin? Have I not already explained that if thou hadst wounded the Augusta's vanity, no rescue would have been possible. By Hades, if thou art tired of life, tour better to open thy veins, or throw thyself upon thy sword. For if thou offendest Popiah, no such easy death will confront thee. Now what is thy purpose? Wilt thou lose ought on thy affair? Will it hinder thy love for Ligia? Remember one thing. Popiah saw Ligia on the Palatine. It will be easy for her to guess for whose sake thou neglectest such exalted favors. Then she will drag Ligia forth, even from the bowels of the earth. Thou wilt destroy not merely thyself, but Ligia also. Does thou comprehend? Vinicius listened as though his thoughts were elsewhere. I must see her, he said at last. Whom, Ligia? Ligia. Knowest thou where she is? No. And wilt thou resume thy search for her in old cemeteries and in the trans-tiber? I know not, but I must see her. Well, though she be a Christian, she may have more sense than thou. She may have sense enough not to wish thy destruction. Vinicius shrugged his shoulders. She saved me from the hands of Ursus. Then hurry, for Bronzebeard will not delay this journey. He can issue sentences of death in Antium as well as here. Vinicius was not listening. One only thought possessed him to obtain an interview with Ligia. He pondered ways and means. Then something happened which seemed to remove all obstacles. Kylo called upon him unexpectedly next morning. He came wretched and ragged. Signs of hunger were in his face, but as the servants had received orders to admit him at all hours of the day or night they dared not deny him admittance. He went straight to the great hall and saluted Vinicius. May the gods give thee immortality and share with thee the dominion of the world. Vinicius' first thought was to command that the Greek should be cast out of doors. His next was that the Greek might know something about Ligia. Curiosity conquered aversion. "'Tis thou,' he asked, how is it with thee? "'Badly enough, O son of Jupiter, virtue is aware which nobody prizes nowadays. The true philosopher must be content if only once in five days he is able to procure a sheep's head from the butcher and gnaw it in his garret, washing it down with tears. Master, what thou gavest me I spent on books, and I was robbed and ruined, and the slave who should have written down the book was ready to dictate fled with the remnant of thy generosity. I am destitute, but I thought to myself, wither should I turn save to thee, O Serapis, whom I love and adore, and for whom I have jeopardized my life. Why hast thou come, and what brings thee? To seek help, O Baal, I bring you my wretchedness, my tears, my love, and the news which I have gathered for love of thee. Where is thou, Master, that I once told thee that I had given to a slave of the divine Petronius a thread from the girdle of the Venus of Paphos? I sought to discover if it had helped her. Thou, O son of the Sun, who knowest all that goest on in that house, knowest what position Eunice holds there. One another such thread do I possess. I have preserved it for thee, O Serapis. He stopped short. Wrath was gathering upon the brow of Venicius. Kylo, wishing to appease the rising storm, resumed quickly. I know where the divine Ligia resides. I will show thee, Master, the alley, and the house. Venicius suppressed the emotion which this news caused him. Where is she? he asked. With Linus, the oldest of the Christian priests. Ursus is there also. He still continues visits to the miller, the namesake of thy overseer. Deimos. Yes, Deimos. Ursus works at night. Hence, if thou surround the house after dark, he will not be there. Linus is old. Besides him there are only two women still older in the house. How dost thou knowest? Thou wilt remember, Master, that the Christians had me in their power and spared me. It is true that Glockus was mistaken in imagining that I was the cause of his misfortune, but the poor devil believes this and still believes it, and in spite of all they spared me. No wonder, Master, that gratitude filled my heart. I am a relic of the good old days, so I thought to myself, should I desert my friends and better factors? Would it not be ungrateful on my part not to ask after them, not to learn how they were getting along, whether they were sick or well, where and how they live? By si-bell of pestinunt it is not in me to act thus. But I feared at first that they might possibly misconceive my motives. Affection proved stronger than fear, the more so that I was encouraged by the readiness with which they forgive injuries, and above all, Master, I thought of thee. Our last adventure ended unhappily, but can a son of fortune reconcile himself to defeat? With this idea I prepared victory for thee in advance. The house stands apart. Slaves at thy order can surround it so completely that not a mouse could escape. Oh, Master, Master, it depends only on thee whether this magnanimous king's daughter spent this night in thy house. If this should happen, remember that it was the poor and hungry son of my father who compassed thy happiness. The blood rushed to the head of Venetius. Temptation once more shook his whole being. Yes, that was the way, this time a certain one. Ligia once in his house, who could take her away? Once his mistress, what would be left her saved to remain so forever? Let religions perish. What could the Christians do for him with their charity and their gloomy creed? Had not the time come for him to shake off these dreams? Why should he not live as others lived? Ligia might find it difficult to reconcile her faith with what had befallen her, but what of that? The only important thing was that she should be his, and his that very night. Doubtless her faith would not hold out against this new world, against the delights of the passion to which she would surrender herself, and to-day was the day he had but to detain Kylo and give orders at nightfall, then would come joys without end. What has my life been, thought Venetius, save gloom, unsatisfied passion, and an endless propounding of unanswerable questions? Now he had the chance to end it all, true he had sworn not to raise a hand against Ligia, but in whose name had he sworn, not by the gods, for he no longer believed in them, not by Christ, for as yet he did not believe in him. For the rest, if she felt that she were wronged, he would marry her and so wipe out the wrong. Yea, he must do this, for he owed his life to her. He recalled the day when he and Croto had invaded her retreat. He recalled the fist of Ursus raised above him, and all that had happened thereafter. Again he saw her bending over his couch, clad in the garb of a slave, beautiful as a goddess, merciful and adorable. Unconsciously his glance fell on the sanctuary and on the cross which she had left behind her. Should he repay her for all by a renewed attack? Should he drag her by the hair like a slave to his bed? How could he do this when he not only desired but loved her, and when he loved her for the very reason that she was what she was? Then he knew that it would not be enough for him to have her in his house, not enough to clasp her in his arms by force. His love needed something more, her consent, her love, her soul. Blessed would be that roof if she came under it of her own free will. Blessed the moment, the day, life itself. Then the happiness of both would be inexhaustible as the sea and the sun. But to possess her by force would be to ruin that happiness forever, and at the same time to tarnish and make hideous the only precious and beloved thing in life. Horror seized him at the very thought. He glanced at Kylo, who, staring back, hid his hands under his rags and scratched himself uneasily. In a frenzy of unspeakable aversion, Vinicius would feign have crushed underfoot that former ally of his as one crushes a foul worm or a poisonous serpent. In an instant he made up his mind. But knowing no measure in anything, and yielding to his fierce Roman nature, he cried, I will not do as thou counselest, but that thou mayest not go forth without the reward that thou hast earned, I will order three hundred lashes to be given thee in my dungeon. Kylo paled. The handsome face of Vinicius glowed with such stern determination that he could not hope the promised reward was merely a cruel jest. He cast himself on his knees, bending himself almost double he moaned in a broken voice. Wherefore, O king of Persia, wherefore, pyramid of mercy, colossus of charity, wherefore, I am old, hungry, wretched, I have done thee a service, is this thy reward? Such is the reward thou wouldst give to the Christians, cried Vinicius. He called the overseer. Kylo fell prostrate at his feet, and embracing them convulsively, cried with deathly pallor in his face. Master, master, I am old. Fifty not three hundred. Fifty are enough. A hundred not three hundred. Mercy, mercy. Vinicius pushed him away with his foot, and gave the order. In the twinkle of an eye, two powerful quaddie appeared from behind the overseer. Seizing Kylo by the remnants of his hair, they wound his cloak around his head, and dragged him off to the dungeon. For the sake of Christ! cried the Greek as they reached the door of the corridor. Vinicius was left alone. The order he had given raised his spirits. He strove to collect his scattered thoughts and reduce them to order. The victory he had gained over himself elated him. It seemed to him that he had made a long stride towards Ligia. Some great reward must follow. At the first moment it did not occur to him that he had been guilty of grievous injustice to Kylo in ordering him to be flogged for the very thing for which formerly he had rewarded him. As yet he was too much of a Roman to feel compunction for the pain of another, or to concern himself with what happened to a wretched Greek. Had he even thought of it, he would have considered he did right in punishing the Catech. But his only thought was of Ligia. He imagined himself saying to her, I will not return the evil for good, when thou learnest what I have done to this man who would have persuaded me to raise a hand against thee, thou wilt be grateful. Then followed the thought, would Ligia approve of his treatment of Kylo? Nay, her creed commanded forgiveness. Nay, the Christians forgave the scoundrel, though they had greater reason for revenge. Then for the first time there rang through his soul the cry, For the sake of Christ! He remembered that with this cry Kylo had rescued himself from the hands of the Ligians. He resolved to remit the rest of the punishment. He was on the point of summoning the Overseer when that individual appeared before him. Master, said the Overseer, the old man has fainted, he may be dead, shall I allow him to be flogged further? Revive him and bring him hither. The Overseer disappeared behind the curtain, but the revival could not have been easy. Venisius waited for a long interval, and was growing impatient when the slaves led in the Greek and at a given signal retired. Kylo was pale as a sheet, down his legs and upon the mosaic pavement trickled streams of blood. He was conscious, however, throwing himself on his knees, he stretched out imploring hands. Thanks to thee, master! he cried, Thou art great and merciful. Dog, know that I forgave thee for the sake of that Christ to whom I myself have owed my life. Master, I will serve him and thee. Be silent and listen. Rise. Thou shalt accompany me to the house where Ligia dwells. Kylo rose, but scarce had he stood on his feet when he paled with a deadlier pallor and moaned in a broken voice. Master, I am truly hungry. Fain would I go, master, but I am too weak. Let me have even the remnants from thy dog's plate, and I will go. Venisius ordered that he should have food, a piece of gold, and a cloak. Kylo, weakened by the lashes and by hunger, could not even totter after food. Terror struck him lest Venisius might construe his weakness as obstinacy and order the flogging renewed. Give me wine to warm me, he cried, with chattering teeth, and I will go to Greece itself. In fact, after a time he recovered some of his strength, and Venisius and he went out. The road was long. Linus, like most Christians, lived in the trans-Tiber, not far from Miriam's house. Finally Kylo indicated to Venisius a small house standing apart, surrounded by an ivy-covered wall. This is the house, master, he said. Good, said Venisius, and now go thy way, but first hearken to what I have to say. Forget that thou hast served me, forget also where Miriam, Peter, and Glockus are living, forget also this house, forget the Christians. Every month thou mayest come to my house, where the freedmen Demas will pay thee two pieces of gold. But if thou spiest further upon the Christians, I will order thee to be flogged to death, or will hand thee over to the prefect of the city. Kylo bowed low and said, I will forget. But when Venisius had disappeared around the corner of the alley, he stretched out his threatening hands, and cried, Bayatis and Fioris, I will not forget! And then again he collapsed. CHAPTER X Venisius went straight to Miriam's house. At the gate he met Nazarius, who started at his sight. Venisius gave him a cordial greeting, and asked to be led to his mother's house. In the room besides Miriam he found Peter, Glockus, Crispus, and Paul of Tarsus. The latter had recently returned from Fregili. The sight of the young tribune astonished everyone. I greet ye in the name of Christ whom ye honor, said Venisius. Blessed be his name for ever, was the reply. I know your virtues and have received your kindness, therefore I come as a friend. And we greet thee as a friend, returned Peter. Sit down, master, and partake of our meal as a guest. I will sit down and eat with ye, but first give me a hearing, O Peter and Paul of Tarsus, so that ye may trust me. I know where Ligia is. I have come here from before the house of Linus, which is close to this dwelling. Caesar hath given me the right to possess her. I have nearly five hundred slaves in my house. I could surround her abode and carry her off. But I have not done this, and I will not do it. Then may the blessing of the Lord descend upon thee and purify thy heart, said Peter. I thank thee, but harken further. I did not do so though I live in a torment of longing. Before I came among ye, I would surely have carried her off and held her by force. But your virtue and your creed, though I profess it not, have made some great change in my soul, so that I dare not use force. I myself cannot comprehend it, but so it is. That is why I come to you, for ye stand to Ligia in the place of father and mother, and I say to ye, Give me Ligia for my wife, and I swear that not only will I allow her to confess Christ, but I myself will begin to learn his creed. He held his head erect. His voice was firm. Nevertheless he was moved. His legs trembled beneath his striped mantle. When he noticed the hush that followed his words, he went on as if anticipating a refusal. I know the obstacles in the way, but I love her as my own eyes. Though I am not your enemy, neither yours nor Christ's, I wish to meet you truthfully, so that you may trust me. I am staking my whole life on this issue, but I tell you the truth. Some might say baptize me, but I say give me light. I believe in Christ's resurrection, for truthful witnesses have told me this who saw him after death. I believe, for I have seen it, that your religion teaches virtue, justice, and charity, but not the crimes of which you are suspected. Still I fail to understand it as a whole. Something I have learned from your works, something from Ligia, something from my discussions with you. I claim that a change has been wrought within me. Once I ruled my servants with a rod of iron. I can do this no longer. I knew no mercy, now I know it. Once I loved pleasure. The other night I ran from it because it stifled me through very disgust. Once I believed in violence, now I renounce it. Know that I cannot recognize myself. I revolt at banquets, at songs, at symbols, at garlands, at Caesars Court, at nude bodies, at every crime. When I think Ligia is pure as mountain snow, I love her all the more. When I think that she is such as she is through your creed, I love that creed and desire it. But since I do not fully comprehend it, since I know not if I can practice it, or if my nature will endure it, I live in uncertainty and torment, as though in some dark dungeon. Hear his brows knitted with pain. A glow appeared on his cheeks. He hurried on with greater emotion. You see, I am tortured with love and doubt. I have been told that in your creed there is room for life, for human joy, for happiness, for order, for government, for the Roman dominion. Is that so? I have been told that ye are mad. Tell me what do you aim at? Is it sin to love? Is it sin to experience pleasure? Is it sin to wish for happiness? Are ye enemies of life? Need a Christian be miserable? Should I renounce Ligia? What is your view of truth? Your acts and your words are as transparent water. But what lies at the bottom of that water? You see that I am sincere. Scatter away the darkness, for I have been told this. Grease created wisdom and beauty, Rome power. But what have they brought forth? Therefore tell me what would ye bring forth? If there is light beyond your doors, open them that I may see it. We bring forth charity, said Peter. Paul of Tarsus added, If I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and have not charity, I am a sounding brass. Nevertheless the heart of the old apostle yearned to that soul in torment, which like a bird beating against its bars strove toward the air and the sun, he stretched out his hand to Vinicius. Who so knucketh to him shall be opened, he said, The grace of the Lord is upon thee. Therefore I bless thee, thy soul and thy love, in the name of the Saviour of the world. Vinicius, who had already spoken with wild enthusiasm, sprang towards Peter. Then a strange thing happened. That descendant of the Choirites, who until recently had failed to recognize any common humanity in an alien, grasped the hands of the old Galilean and pressed them gratefully to his lips. Peter was filled with joy. He saw that once more his seed had fallen on good soil, that his fishing net had gathered in another soul. All present were no less rejoiced at this sign of homage to God's apostle, with one voice they exclaimed, Glory to God in the highest! Vinicius arose with a radiant face. I see, he cried, that happiness can dwell among ye, for I myself am happy. I know that you can convince me in all other things, I will say more. This cannot happen in Rome. Caesar goes to Antium. I must accompany him, for he hath commanded it. You know that to refuse is death. But if I have found favour in your eyes, go with me and teach me your creed. You will be safer than I. In that vast concourse of people you will find opportunity to proclaim the truth in the very court of Caesar. Actia, they say, is a among the Praetorians are many Christians, for I myself have seen soldiers kneeling before the O. Peter at the Numentan gate. I have a villa in Antium, where we may assemble at the very side of Caesar to listen to your teachings. Glocus hath said that for the sake of a single soul ye are willing to travel to the ends of the world. Do then for me what ye have done for those who attracted you hither from Judea. Do so and abandon not my soul. During this they held council among themselves. With joy they thought of the victory of their creed and of the importance to the heathen world of the conversion of an Augustali, the scion of one of the oldest families in Rome. It was true that they would have wandered to the ends of the world for the sake of a single soul, since the death of the master they had done nothing else. Therefore a refusal was the furthest thing from their thoughts. But Peter was at that time the pastor of a great multitude, hence he could not go. Paul of Tarsus, however, who had recently been in Orisium and in Frageli, and who was preparing for another long journey into the Orient to visit the churches and inspire them with New Zeal, consented to accompany the young tribune to Antium, where he might readily find a vessel bound for the Grecian seas. Venisius regretted that Peter, to whom he owed so much, could not accompany him, but he thanked Paul heartily. Then he turned to the old apostle with a final request. Knowing Ligius dwelling, he said, I might myself go there and ask as his only meat whether she would accept me as a husband if my soul turned to Christ. But I prefer to ask thee, O apostle, let me see her or lead me to her. I know not how long I shall remain in Antium. Remember that by Caesar's side no one is sure of the morrow. Petronius himself has already assured me that there might be danger there for me. Let me see her ere I go. Let me feast my eyes upon her. Let me ask her to forget the evil I have done and help me to a better life. Peter the apostle smiled kindly and said, My son, who would deny thee a just joy? Once again bowed low over his hand. He could not suppress the joy that flooded his heart. The apostle took his head between his hands. Be not afraid of Caesar, he said. I tell thee no hair on thy head will be harmed. Then he sent Miriam for Ligia, but bade her not reveal whom she would find among them so that her joy might be the greater. It was not far. In a little while they assembled in the chamber and saw Miriam leading Ligia by the hand through the myrtles in the garden. Venicius would have feigned run out to greet her, but at sight of that beloved figure happiness deprived him of his strength. He stood breathless, with throbbing heart barely able to hold himself on his feet. He was a hundred times more moved than when for the first time in his life he had heard the shafts of the Parthians whizzing around his head. She ran in unsuspecting. At sight of him she stopped as if rooted to the spot. Her face flushed and then paled. Her eyes glanced around her with alarm and surprise. But only bright and kindly eyes met hers. Peter approached and asked, Ligia, dost thou still love him? There was a sudden hush. Her lips trembled as those of a child who is on the point of bursting into tears because it fears its guilt but cannot help confessing it. Answer, said the Apostle. Then with humility and fear in her voice she whispered, slowly falling to the feet of Peter. I too. Venicius at the same moment knelt beside her. Peter placed his hands on their heads and said, Love each other in the Lord and for his glory, for there is no sin in your love. CHAPTER XII Walking in the garden, Venicius poured out to Ligia in burning words all that he had previously confessed to the Apostle, the unrest of his soul, the change he had undergone, and all that infinite longing which had haunted him since he had left Miriam's house. He owned that he had tried to forget her, but could not. Days and nights had he thought of her, that little cross of boxwood branches which she had left for him and which he had deposited in his sanctuary to be adored against his will as something sacred had been a constant reminder of her. And the longing had increased with every moment, for Love was stronger than he, and had possessed his soul, even from his first sight of her at the home of the Auli. The fates spun the thread of life for others, but for him Love and melancholy had spun it. His very evil actions had their origin in Love. He had loved her at the Auli's and on the Palatine. He had loved her when he saw her at Ostronium listening to Peter, when with Croto's help he had sought to carry her off when she had watched at his bedside and when she had fled from him. Then Kylo came with news that he had discovered her abode, and suggested that he once more try to carry her off, but he preferred to punish Kylo and seek the Apostles to ask them for light and for Ligia. Blessed be the moment when he entertained the thought, for now he was by her side, and no more would she flee from him, as she had fled from the house of Miriam. I did not flee from thee, said Ligia. Then why didst thou leave me? She lifted her blue eyes to his, then bowed her blushing face and murmured, Thou knowest. Vinicius was silent from very excess of joy. Then he sought to explain to her how his eyes had slowly opened to the fact that she was entirely different from Roman women, save only Pomponia. Yet he could not express this fully, for he could not define his own feelings, that in her person a new strange beauty had entered the world, a beauty that was not a mere statue, but a soul. He told enough to fill her with happiness, for he made her understand that he loved her for the very reason that she had fled from him, and that she would be sacred to him at his hearthstone. He seized her hand, he could speak no further, he could only gaze upon her in ecstasy as upon the recovered joy of his life, and repeat her name as if to assure himself that he had again found her, and that she was by his side. Oh, Ligia! Oh, Ligia! At last he fell to inquiring of her all that had gone on in her soul. She confessed that she had loved him from the time she had first met him at the Owli, and that if he had restored her to them on the Palatine, she would have confessed that love, and striven to soften their anger against him. I swear to thee, said Venisius, that it never entered my mind to take thee from the Owli. Petronius will sometime assure thee that even then I informed him that I loved thee and wished to marry thee. Let her anoint my door with wolf-grease, I said to him, and take her seat at my hearth. But he laughed at me and suggested to Caesar that he demand thee as a hostage and hand thee over to me. Often have I cursed him in my anguish, but it may have been a favouring star which ordained it thus, for otherwise I should never have known the Christians nor understood thee. Believe me, Marcus, answered Ligia, it was Christ who so ordained it to lead thee to himself. Venisius lifted his head in some astonishment. "'Tis true,' he said brightly, for all things worked themselves out so strangely that in seeking thee I found the Christians. In Ostronium I listened thunderstruck to the Apostle. Never had I heard such words before, and thou wert praying for me?' "'Yes.' They passed the ivy-covered arbor, approaching the spot where Ursus, after strangling Croto, had fallen upon Venisius. "'Here I should have perished but for thee,' said the young man. "'Forget all that and never recall it to Ursus. Could I seek vengeance on him for his defense of thee? Were he a slave I would free him forthwith? Had he been a slave, the Owly would long since have freed him. Rememberest thou?' continued Venisius, that I would have restored thee to the Owly, but thou didst fear that Caesar might hear of it and wreak his vengeance on the Owly. Take thought of this, that now thou mayest see them as often as thou wishest. How, Marcus? I say now, for I think that thou mayest without danger see them when thou art mine. Yay, for when Caesar learns of thy visits and asks what I have done with the hostage he entrusted me, I will answer him, she is my wife, and visits the Owly at my wish. His stay in Antium will be short, for he wishes to go to Achia. But even should he remain longer, I shall not have to call on him every day. After Paul of Tarsus has completed his instructions in your creed, I shall receive baptism, and shall return here and receive the friendship of the Owly. There will be no further obstacles in our way. I will set thee by my hearth. Oh, dearest, dearest!' He raised his hand heavenwards as if to make God a witness to his love. Ligia, lifting her shining eyes to him, said, And then I shall say, Where thou art kaius, there am I kaiah. No, Ligia, I swear that never was woman so honoured in her husband's home as thou shalt be in mine. They walked in silence as though unable to realize fully their own happiness. In their deep love they seemed a pair of gods, as beautiful as though spring had brought them forth into the world with the flowers. At length they stood under the cypress growing by the door of the dwelling. Ligia leaned against its trunk. Venetius implored her with a trembling voice. Tell Ursus to go to the Owly's home, and bring therefrom thy belongings and thy childhood's toys. Blushing like a rose or like the dawn, she replied, Custom dictates otherwise. I know that. It is customary for a matron to bear these behind a bride, but do thou this for me. I will take them with me to my villa in Antium, and they will serve as constant reminders of thee. Here he clasped his hands together, and with the manner of a child begging for something repeated, Pomponia will soon return. Therefore do this, my divinity. Do this, my best beloved. Let Pomponia do as she wishes, said Ligia, blushing still further at the mention of a bridal ceremony. Again they were silent. Love deprived them of utterance. Ligia still leaned against the Cyprus, her face whitening in the shadow like a flower, her eyes downcast, her breast heaving more rapidly. Venetius's face changed, a pallor overspread it. In the noonday stillness they heard the throbbing of their own hearts, and in their mental ecstasy the Cyprus, the myrtle bushes, and the ivy of the arbor were strangely transformed, as though this were the Garden of Love. Miriam, standing in the threshold, awoke them by her call to the midday meal. The pair sat down with the apostles, who gazed on them with joy, as representatives of the young generation which, after their death, should preserve and spread still further the seeds of the new religion. Peter broke and blessed the bread, peace shown in every face. A great happiness seemed to pervade the whole room. See, said Paul, turning to Venetius, are we enemies of love and joy? I know the truth now, for never have I been so happy as I have been with you. CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XIII Returning home through the forum on the evening of that day, Venetius perceived at the entrance to the Tuscus Quarter the gilded litter of Petronius, born by eight Bithynians. He halted it by a signal of his hand, and approached the curtains. May thy dreams be pleasant, he exclaimed, with a laugh at sight of Petronius asleep. Oh, is it thou? cried Petronius, awaking. True, I have just dropped into a dream, for I have spent the night at the Palatine. I merely came to purchase something to read at Antium. What is the news? Art thou shopping in the bookstores? asked Venetius. Yes, I wish to leave no disorder in my library, so I am providing myself with a special supply for the journey. Some new works of Musonius and of Seneca may have come out. I am seeking also for Perseus and a certain edition of Virgil's echelogues which I do not at present possess. Oh, how weary I am! How my hands ache from unrolling parchment! When one is in a bookstore he is seized by curiosity to examine this and that. I have been to the shops of Avernus and of Attractus on the Argelitum, and before that I visited the Sozii in the Sandalerius Quarter, by Castor how sleepy I am. Thou art on the Palatine, then I must ask thee what is the news, or dost thou know? Here send thy litter home with the books and come to my house. We will talk of Antium or of other things. Tis well, said Petronius, emerging from the litter, thou must know that the day after tomorrow we set out for Antium. How could I know that? In what world art thou living? I see I shall be the first to bring thee news. Yes, hold thyself in readiness for the morning of the day after tomorrow. Peas with olive oil have been of no avail, a cloth on the back of the neck has been of no avail. Bronzebeard has grown horse, so delay is no longer to be thought of. He curses Rome and its air by the foundations of the world. Gladly would he raise the city to the ground or destroy it with fire. He longs for the sea as speedily as possible. He says that the stenches which the wind blows from the narrow alleys will drive him into the grave. Today huge sacrifices were offered up in all the temples for the restoration of his voice. Woe to Rome and especially to the Senate, if the gods do not grant this soon. Then wherefore should he go to Achia? But doth our godlike Caesar possess only one talent, laughed Petronius, he would vain exhibit himself in the Olympic Games, as a poet with his verses on the burning of Troy, as a charioteer, as a musician, as an athlete, nay even as a dancer, and in every role he will win all the garlands that have been bound for the victors. Knowest thou why that ape grew horse? Because yesterday the envy seized him to rival our Paris in dancing, and he danced for us the adventures of Leda. He perspired to freely and caught cold. He was as wed and slimy as an eel just taken from the water. He changed masks one after another. He spun around like a spindle. He tossed his arms like a drunken sailor. It made me sick to gaze on that big belly and those thin legs. Paris had taught him for two weeks, but picture to thyself Bronzebeard as Leda or as the god Swan. That was a swan indeed. Now he wants to come out in public with this pantomime, first in Antium and afterwards in Rome. People have already been shocked by his singing in public, but a Roman emperor coming out as a mime? No, that at least Rome will not bear. My beloved friend, Rome will bear anything. The Senate will even pass a vote of thanks to the father of his country. Then he added, and the mob will be proud that Caesar is its mount-a-bank. Tell me, cried Vinicius, can anything be more debased? Petronius shrugged his shoulders. Thou hast buried thyself in thine own home with thy thoughts of Ligia and of the Christians. Hence thou hast not heard what happened two days ago. Nero publicly married Pythagoras. Nero was the bride. Does not that seem that the full measure of madness has been surpassed? The priests were invited and they came and solemnly performed the ceremony. I was present. I can stand a good deal, but I confess that I thought that the gods, if they exist, should have given a sign. But Caesar believes not in the gods, and he is right. So in one and the same person he is the high priest, a god, and an atheist. Petronius laughed. True, that thought did not occur to me. Tis a combination never yet seen in the world. But it must be added that this high priest who does not believe in the gods, and this god who jests at gods, is afraid of them in his quality of atheist. That is proved by what happened in the temple of Vesta. What a world! As the world is, so is Caesar, but this cannot last long. They had now entered the house of Venetius. The latter cheerily called for supper. Then he turned to Petronius. No, my beloved, he said. The world must be regenerated. We at least will not regenerate it if but for this reason that man in these days of Nero is but a butterfly. He lives in the sunshine of favor, and perishes at the first breath of cold, even against his will. By the son of Maia, more than once have I asked myself by what marvel has Lucius Saturninus, for example, been able to reach the age of ninety-three, and outlived Iberius, Caligula, and Claudius. But let that go. Wilt thou not send thy litter for Eunice? My desire for sleep has passed away. Let the lyrisks appear at the supper. Afterwards we will converse about Antium. It is necessary to think of it, especially for thee. Venetius sent for Eunice, but he declared that he would not bother his head about the Antium matter. Let those bother themselves who know no other way of living than in the sunshine of Caesar's favor. The world does not end on the Palatine, especially for such as have something else to occupy heart and soul. He spoke with such indifference, yet so cheerily and fivaciously, that Patronius was struck. Staring at his nephew, he said, What has happened to thee? Today thou art as one who wears a golden boss around his neck. I am happy, said Venetius. I invited thee here in order to tell thee so. What has happened? Something which I would not exchange for the Roman Empire. He seated himself, throwing his arm around the back of the chair, and leaning his head on his arm, he spoke with a face wreathed in smiles and a bright light in his eyes. Does thou remember when we were together at the house of Aulus Plautius, and when for the first time thou didst see the divine maiden whom thou thyself did call the morning star and the spring? Does thou remember that psyche, that incomparable one, the most beautiful among virgins and among all your goddesses? Patronius stared at him, wondering if the youth's wits had forsaken him. How thou dost run on, he said at last. Of course I remember Ligia. I am her betrothed, said Venetius. What? Venetius sprang up and called his overseer, summoned the slaves to the last soul, and be quick about it. Art thou her betrothed? repeated Patronius. But before he had recovered himself the great hall of Venetius swarmed with men and women. Panting old men ran in together with men in the prime of life, women, boys, and girls. More were seeking to push their way in. In the corridors were heard voices, calling in many languages. At length all formed themselves in rows along the walls and among the columns. Venetius, standing by the fountain, turned to his freedmen Demus with the order. All who have served twenty years in this house will present themselves to-morrow before the praetor, where they will obtain their freedom. All who have not served so long will each receive three pieces of gold and double rations during the week. Send orders to the dungeons in my villas that all punishments be remitted, that the shackles be stricken from all prisoners, and that every one be sufficiently fed. Know that this is a happy day for me, and I wish joy to pervade in the house. For a moment the slaves stood in odd silence. They could hardly believe their own ears. Then all hands were uplifted simultaneously, and a cry went up from all lips, Ah, master, ah, ah! Venetius waved them away with his hand. Though they would feign have fallen at his feet to thank him, they hurried away at the signal and filled the house from basement to roof with their joyous voices. Tomorrow, said Venetius, I will summon them all into the garden, where they will draw such figures as they choose in the ground. Those who draw a fish will receive their freedom at the hands of Ligia. Petronius, who was never affected permanently by anything, now asked indifferently, A fish? Ah, yes, I remember Kylo told us it is a Christian symbol. He stretched out his hand to Venetius. Happiness always exists wherever a man sees it. May flora screw flowers before thy feet for long years. I wish thee all thou couldst wish thyself. I thank thee for those wishes. I had feared that thou wouldst seek to dissuade me, and that, as thou seest, would be merely to lose time. I dissuade thee, not in the least. On the contrary, I tell thee thou art right. Ah, turn, quote, cried Venetius joyously, hast thou forgotten what thou didst say to me when we were returning from Pomponia's house? Petronius answered coldly, I do not, but I have changed my opinion. Then he added, My beloved friend, everything changes in Rome. Husbands change wives. Wives change husbands. Why may I not change my opinion? It was a mere accident that Nero did not marry Actia, for whom a royal lineage was invented for the purpose. And why not? He would have had an honest wife, we, an honest Augusta. By Proteus and his barren wastes in the sea, I shall change my opinion as often as I find it right or convenient. As to Ligia, doubtless her lineage is more certainly royal than that of Actia, but when thou art in Antium, have a care for Papia, who is ruthless in her revenges. I fear nothing, not a hair of my head will be injured in Antium. If thou seekest to astonish me once more, thou art mistaken, but whence comes thy certainty? The Apostle Peter assured me so. Ah, the Apostle assured thee, there is no arguing against that, but at least let me take certain precautions, if only for the purpose of preventing the Apostle Peter from proving a false prophet. For should the Apostle Peter, by some mischance be mistaken, he might lose thy confidence, and thy confidence might be useful to the Apostle Peter in the future. Do as thou willst, but I confide in him, if thou imagineest that thou wilt sway me by scoffing repetitions of his name, thou art mistaken. Well, one more question, has thou become a Christian? Not yet, but Paul of Tarsus accompanies me to expound the teachings of Christ. In the end I shall be baptized. I do not accept what thou sayest that these teachings are enemies of life and happiness. So much the better for thee and for Ligia, returned Patronius. Then shrugging his shoulders he added, as though to himself, "'Tis marvellous how clever these people are in making proselytes, and how their sect is spreading!' "'Yay!' replied Vinicius, with as much ardor as if he had been baptized. There are thousands and tens of thousands in Rome, in other Italian cities, in Greece and in Asia. There are Christians in the legions and among the Praetorians, and in the very palace of Caesar. Slaves and citizens profess the creed, poor and rich, plebeian and patrician. Knowest thou that some of the Cornelii are Christians, that Pomponia Grisina is a Christian, that Actia is one? Yes, it is a creed that wins the world. It is the only thing that can regenerate it. Shrug not thy shoulders, for who knows but that in a month or a year thou also mayest not accept it. "'I,' said Patronius, "'know by the Son of Lethy I will not, not even if it contains all human and divine truth and wisdom. It would involve trouble, and I hate trouble. It would require self-denial, and I would not deny myself anything in life. In a nature like thine, which resembles boiling water over a fire, something of this sort might be expected. But I have my gems, my cameos, my vases, and my Eunice. I have no belief in Olympus, but I make one of my own on this earth. I will blossom until the shafts of the divine archer pierce me, or until Caesar orders me to open my veins. I am too fond of the odor of violets and the comforts of the dining-room. I even have a fondness for our gods as rhetorical figures, and for Achia, whither I am now about to set out with our burly, thin-legged, incomparable God-like Caesar, the august, the ever-victorious, the Hercules of our time, Nero himself. He grew hilarious at the very idea that it would be possible for him to accept the teachings of the Galilean fishermen, and hummed to himself, with the green of the mortal I circled my sword, like Hamodius and Aristogitan. He stopped short, for Eunice's arrival was now announced. This was the signal for supper. The musicians poured out harmony from their liars. Venisius now told of Kylo's visit, and how it had resulted in his going directly to the apostles. He explained how the suggestion had arisen while Kylo was being flogged. Petronius, who had grown drowsy again, woke up at this, and said, The suggestion was a good one if the result be good, as to Kylo I should have given him five pieces of gold, but if thy choice were to flog him, it were best that thou shouldst have flogged him to death, for who knows whether the time may not come when the senators will bow before him as now they bow before our cobbler knight Vatinius. Good night! And removing his garland he and Eunice made their preparations for departure. When they had left, Venisius went up into the library and wrote the following to Ligia, Would that when thou openest thy beautiful eyes, O Divinity, this letter might say to thee good morning. It is with this hope I write, though I will see thee to-morrow. Caesar goes to Antium the day after to-morrow, and I alas must accompany him. Have I not explained to thee that a refusal would imperil my life, and at present I have no courage for death, but if thou wishes that I should not go, write me only a word, and I will remain. It will be for Petronius to avert my peril. Today, the day of joy, I scattered gardens among all my slaves. Those who had served twenty years in my house I will lead to-morrow to the Pritor to give them their freedom. Thou, O Beloved, must commend me for this, because it seems to me that this will be conformable to that kindly creed which thou professest, and also because I have done this for thy sake. I shall tell them to-morrow that they owe their freedom to thee, so that they may know whom to thank, and may praise thy name. I yield myself up to the bondage of joy and of thee. May I never know freedom. May Antium be cursed, together with Bronzebeard's journey. Thrice and four times happy am I that I am not as wise as Petronius, for then I should certainly be obliged to go to Achia. Meanwhile the memory of thee will sweeten the separation. Whenever it is possible for me to leave, I will leap on a horse and hurry to Rome, to feast my eyes upon thy face, and my ears upon thy voice. When it is impossible, I will send thee a slave with a letter of inquiry about thee. I greet thee, O my divinity, and embrace thy feet. Be not angry that I call thee a divinity. If thou forbid, I will obey, but today I can do not otherwise. From thy future house I greet thee with my whole soul.