Quo Vadis. Генрик Сенкевич

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of despair said to himself, with a certain astonishment, – “O mighty Lady of Cyprus, thou alone art ruler of gods and men!”

      Chapter XII

      WHEN they alighted in front of the arbiter’s house, the chief of the atrium answered them that of slaves sent to the gates none had returned yet. The atriensis had given orders to take food to them, and a new command, that under penalty of rods they were to watch carefully all who left the city.

      “Thou seest,” said Petronius, “that they are in Rome, beyond doubt, and in that case we shall find them. But command thy people also to watch at the gates, – those, namely, who were sent for Lygia, as they will recognize her easily.”

      “I have given orders to send them to rural prisons,” said Vinicius, “but I will recall the orders at once, and let them go to the gates.”

      And writing a few words on a wax-covered tablet, he handed it to Petronius, who gave directions to send it at once to the house of Vinicius. Then they passed into the interior portico, and, sitting on a marble bench, began to talk. The golden-haired Eunice and Iras pushed bronze footstools under their feet, and poured wine for them into goblets, out of wonderful narrow-necked pitchers from Volaterræ and Cæcina.

      “Hast thou among thy people any one who knows that giant Lygian?” asked Petronius.

      “Atacinus and Gulo knew him; but Atacinus fell yesterday at the litter, and Gulo I killed.”

      “I am sorry for him,” said Petronius. “He carried not only thee, but me, in his arms.”

      “I intended to free him,” answered Vinicius; “but do not mention him. Let us speak of Lygia. Rome is a sea-”

      “A sea is just the place where men fish for pearls. Of course we shall not find her to-day, or to-morrow, but we shall find her surely. Thou hast accused me just now of giving thee this method; but the method was good in itself, and became bad only when turned to bad. Thou hast heard from Aulus himself, that he intends to go to Sicily with his whole family. In that case the girl would be far from thee.”

      “I should follow them,” said Vinicius, “and in every case she would be out of danger; but now, if that child dies, Poppæa will believe, and will persuade Cæsar, that she died because of Lygia.”

      “True; that alarmed me, too. But that little doll may recover. Should she die, we shall find some way of escape.”

      Here Petronius meditated a while and added, – “Poppæa, it is said, follows the religion of the Jews, and believes in evil spirits. Cæsar is superstitious. If we spread the report that evil spirits carried off Lygia, the news will find belief, especially as neither Cæsar nor Aulus Plautius intercepted her; her escape was really mysterious. The Lygian could not have effected it alone; he must have had help. And where could a slave find so many people in the course of one day?”

      “Slaves help one another in Rome.”

      “Some person pays for that with blood at times. True, they support one another, but not some against others. In this case it was known that responsibility and punishment would fall on thy people. If thou give thy people the idea of evil spirits, they will say at once that they saw such with their own eyes, because that will justify them in thy sight. Ask one of them, as a test, if he did not see spirits carrying off Lygia through the air, he will swear at once by the ægis of Zeus that he saw them.”

      Vinicius, who was superstitious also, looked at Petronius with sudden and great fear.

      “If Ursus could not have men to help him, and was not able to take her alone, who could take her?”

      Petronius began to laugh.

      “See,” said he, “they will believe, since thou art half a believer thyself. Such is our society, which ridicules the gods. They, too, will believe, and they will not look for her. Meanwhile we shall put her away somewhere far off from the city, in some villa of mine or thine.”

      “But who could help her?”

      “Her co-religionists,” answered Petronius.

      “Who are they? What deity does she worship? I ought to know that better than thou.”

      “Nearly every woman in Rome honors a different one. It is almost beyond doubt that Pomponia reared her in the religion of that deity which she herself worships; what one she worships I know not. One thing is certain, that no person has seen her make an offering to our gods in any temple. They have accused her even of being a Christian; but that is not possible; a domestic tribunal cleared her of the charge. They say that Christians not only worship an ass’s head, but are enemies of the human race, and permit the foulest crimes. Pomponia cannot be a Christian, as her virtue is known, and an enemy of the human race could not treat slaves as she does.”

      “In no house are they treated as at Aulus’s,” interrupted Vinicius.

      “Ah! Pomponia mentioned to me some god, who must be one powerful and merciful. Where she has put away all the others is her affair; it is enough that that Logos of hers cannot be very mighty, or rather he must be a very weak god, since he has had only two adherents, – Pomponia and Lygia, – and Ursus in addition. It must be that there are more of those adherents, and that they assisted Lygia.”

      “That faith commands forgiveness,” said Vinicius. “At Acte’s I met Pomponia, who said to me: ‘May God forgive thee the evil which thou hast done to us and to Lygia.’”

      “Evidently their God is some curator who is very mild. Ha! let him forgive thee, and in sign of forgiveness return thee the maiden.”

      “I would offer him a hecatomb to-morrow! I have no wish for food, or the bath, or sleep. I will take a dark lantern and wander through the city. Perhaps I shall find her in disguise. I am sick.”

      Petronius looked at him with commiseration. In fact, there was blue under his eyes, his pupils were gleaming with fever, his unshaven beard indicated a dark strip on his firmly outlined jaws, his hair was in disorder, and he was really like a sick man. Iras and the golden-haired Eunice looked at him also with sympathy; but he seemed not to see them, and he and Petronius took no notice whatever of the slave women, just as they would not have noticed dogs moving around them.

      “Fever is tormenting thee,” said Petronius.

      “It is.”

      “Then listen to me. I know not what the doctor has prescribed to thee, but I know how I should act in thy place. Till this lost one is found I should seek in another that which for the moment has gone from me with her. I saw splendid forms at thy villa. Do not contradict me. I know what love is; and I know that when one is desired another cannot take her place. But in a beautiful slave it is possible to find even momentary distraction.”

      “I do not need it,” said Vinicius.

      But Petronius, who had for him a real weakness, and who wished to soften his pain, began to meditate how he might do so.

      “Perhaps thine have not for thee the charm of novelty,” said he, after a while (and here he began to look in turn at Iras and Eunice, and finally he placed his palm on the hip of the golden-haired Eunice). “Look at this grace! for whom some days since Fonteius Capiton the younger offered three wonderful boys from Clazomene. A more beautiful figure than hers even Skopas himself has not chiselled. I myself cannot tell why I have remained indifferent to her thus far, since thoughts of Chrysothemis have not restrained me. Well, I give her to thee; take her

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