But afterward he began to think over his position. Thanks to his acuteness, he knew that destruction was not threatening him directly. Nero had seized an appropriate occasion to utter a few select, lofty phrases about friendship and forgiveness, thus binding himself for the moment. "He will have to seek pretexts, and before he finds them much time may pa.s.s. First of all, he will celebrate the games with Christians," said Petronius to himself; "only then will he think of me, and if that be true, it is not worth while to take trouble or change my course of life. Nearer danger threatens Vinicius!"
And thenceforth he thought only of Vinicius, whom he resolved to rescue. Four st.u.r.dy Bithynians bore his litter quickly through ruins, ash-heaps, and stones with which the Carinae was filled yet; but he commanded them to run swiftly so as to be home at the earliest. Vinicius, whose "insula" had been burned, was living with him, and was at home, fortunately.
"Hast seen Lygia to-day?" were the first words of Petronius.
"I have just come from her."
"Hear what I tell thee, and lose no time in questions. It has been decided this morning at Caesar"s to lay the blame of burning Rome on the Christians. Persecutions and tortures threaten them. Pursuit may begin any instant. Take Lygia and flee at once beyond the Alps even, or to Africa. And hasten, for the Palatine is nearer the Trans-Tiber than is this place."
Vinicius was, indeed, too much of a soldier to lose time in useless queries. He listened with frowning brows, and a face intent and terrible, but fearless. Evidently the first feeling of his nature in presence of peril was a wish to defend and give battle.
"I go," said he.
"One word more. Take a purse of gold, take weapons, and a handful of thy Christians. In case of need, rescue her!"
Vinicius was in the door of the atrium already.
"Send me news by a slave!" cried Petronius.
When left alone, he began to walk by the columns which adorned the atrium, thinking of what had happened. He knew that Lygia and Linus had returned after the fire to the former house, which, like the greater part of the Trans-Tiber, had been saved; and that was an unfavorable circ.u.mstance, for otherwise it would have been difficult to find them among throngs of people. Petronius hoped, however, that as things were, no one in the Palatine knew where they lived, and therefore in every case Vinicius would antic.i.p.ate the pretorians. It occurred to him also that Tigellinus, wishing to seize at one attempt as many Christians as possible, would extend his net over all Rome. "If they send no more than ten people after her," thought he, "that giant Lygian will break their bones and what will it be if Vinicius comes with a.s.sistance?" Thinking of this he was consoled. True, armed resistance to the pretorians was almost the same as war with Caesar. Petronius knew also that if Vinicius hid from the vengeance of Nero, that vengeance might fall on himself; but he cared little. On the contrary, he rejoiced at the thought of crossing Nero"s plans and those of Tigellinus, and determined to spare in the matter neither men nor money. Since in Antium Paul of Tarsus had converted most of his slaves, he, while defending Christians, might count on their zeal and devotion.
The entrance of Eunice interrupted his thoughts. At sight of her all his cares and troubles vanished without a trace. He forgot Caesar, the disfavor into which he had fallen, the degraded Augustians, the persecution threatening the Christians, Vinicius, Lygia, and looked only at her with the eyes of an anthetic man enamoured of marvellous forms, and of a lover for whom love breathes from those forms. She, in a transparent violet robe called "Coa vestis," through which her maiden- like form appeared, was really as beautiful as a G.o.ddess. Feeling herself admired meanwhile, and loving him with all her soul, ever eager for his fondling, she blushed with delight as if she had been an innocent maiden.
"What wilt thou say to me, Charis?" asked Petronius, stretching his hands to her.
She, inclining her golden head to him, answered,--"Anthemios has come with his choristers, and asks if "tis thy wish to hear him."
"Let him stay; he will sing to us during dinner the hymn to Apollo. By the groves of Paphos! when I see thee in that Coan gauze, I think that Aphrodite has veiled herself with a piece of the sky, and is standing before me."
"O lord!"
"Come hither, Eunice, embrace me with thy arms, and give thy lips to me. Dost thou love me?"
"I should not have loved Zeus more."
Then she pressed her lips to his, while quivering in his arms from happiness. After a while Petronius asked,-- "But if we should have to separate?"
Eunice looked at him with fear in her eyes.
"How is that, lord?"
"Fear not; I ask, for who knows but I may have to set out on a long journey?"
"Take me with thee-"
Petronius changed the conversation quickly, and said,-- "Tell me, are there asphodels on the gra.s.s plot in the garden?"
"The cypresses and the gra.s.s plots are yellow from the fire, the leaves have fallen from the myrtles, and the whole garden seems dead."
"All Rome seems dead, and soon it will be a real graveyard. Dost thou know that an edict against the Christians is to be issued, and a persecution will begin during which thousands will perish?"
"Why punish the Christians, lord? They are good and peaceful."
"For that very reason."
"Let us go to the sea. Thy beautiful eyes do not like to see blood."
"Well, but meanwhile I must bathe. Come to the elaeothesium to anoint my arms. By the girdle of Kypris! never hast thou seemed to me so beautiful. I will give command to make a bath for thee in the form of a sh.e.l.l; thou wilt be like a costly pearl in it. Come, Golden-haired!"
He went out, and an hour later both, in garlands of roses and with misty eyes, were resting before a table covered with a service of gold. They were served by boys dressed as Cupids, they drank wine from ivy-wreathed goblets, and heard the hymn to Apollo sung to the sound of harps, under direction of Anthemios. What cared they if around the villa chimneys pointed up from the ruins of houses, and gusts of wind swept the ashes of burnt Rome in every direction? They were happy thinking only of love, which had made their lives like a divine dream. But before the hymn was finished a slave, the chief of the atrium, entered the hall.
"Lord," said he, in a voice quivering with alarm, "a centurion with a detachment of pretorians is standing before the gate, and, at command of Caesar, wishes to see thee."
The song and the sound of lutes ceased. Alarm was roused in all present; for Caesar, in communications with friends, did not employ pretorians usually, and their arrival at such times foreboded no good. Petronius alone showed not the slightest emotion, but said, like a man annoyed by continual visits,-- "They might let me dine in peace." Then turning to the chief of the atrium, he said, "Let him enter."
The slave disappeared behind the curtain; a moment later heavy steps were heard, and an acquaintance of Petronius appeared, the centurion Aper, armed, and with an iron helmet on his head.
"n.o.ble lord," said he, "here is a letter from Caesar."
Petronius extended his white hand lazily, took the tablet, and, casting his eye over it, gave it, in all calmness to Eunice.
"He will read a new book of the Troyad this evening, and invites me to come."
"I have only the order to deliver the letter," said the centurion.
"Yes, there will be no answer. But, centurion, thou mightst rest a while with us and empty a goblet of wine?"
"Thanks to thee, n.o.ble lord. A goblet of wine I will drink to thy health willingly; but rest I may not, for I am on duty."
"Why was the letter given to thee, and not sent by a slave?"
"I know not, lord. Perhaps because I was sent in this direction on other duty."
"I know, against the Christians?"
"Yes, lord."
"Is it long since the pursuit was begun?"
"Some divisions were sent to the Trans-Tiber before midday." When he had said this, the centurion shook a little wine from the goblet in honor of Mars; then he emptied it, and said,-- "May the G.o.ds grant thee, lord, what thou desirest."
"Take the goblet too," said Petronius.
Then he gave a sign to Anthemios to finish the hymn to Apollo.
"Bronzebeard is beginning to play with me and Vinicius," thought he, when the harps sounded anew. "I divine his plan! He wanted to terrify me by sending the invitation through a centurion. They will ask the centurion in the evening how I received him. No, no! thou wilt not amuse thyself overmuch, cruel and wicked prophet. I know that thou wilt not forget the offence, I know that my destruction will not fail; but if thou think that I shall look into thy eyes imploringly, that thou wilt see fear and humility on my face, thou art mistaken."
"Caesar writes, lord," said Eunice, ""Come if thou hast the wish"; wilt thou go?"
"I am in excellent health, and can listen even to his verses," answered Petronius; "hence I shall go, all the more since Vinicius cannot go."
In fact, after the dinner was finished and after the usual walk, he gave himself into the hands of hairdressers and of slaves who arranged his robes, and an hour later, beautiful as a G.o.d, he gave command to take him to the Palatine.
It was late, the evening was warm and calm; the moon shone so brightly that the lampadarii going before the litter put out their torches. On the streets and among the ruins crowds of people were pushing along, drunk with wine, in garlands of ivy and honeysuckle, bearing in their hands branches of myrtle and laurel taken from Caesar"s gardens. Abundance of grain and hopes of great games filled the hearts of all with gladness. Here and there songs were sung magnifying the "divine night" and love; here and there they were dancing by the light of the moon, and the slaves were forced repeatedly to demand s.p.a.ce for the litter "of the n.o.ble Petronius," and then the crowd pushed apart, shouting in honor of their favorite.
He was thinking of Vinicius, and wondering why he had no news from him. He was an Epicurean and an egotist, but pa.s.sing time, now with Paul of Tarsus, now with Vinicius, hearing daily of the Christians, he had changed somewhat without his own knowledge. A certain breeze from them had blown on him; this cast new seeds into his soul. Besides his own person others began to occupy him; moreover, he had been always attached to Vinicius, for in childhood he had loved greatly his sister, the mother of Vinicius; at present, therefore, when he had taken part in his affairs, he looked on them with that interest with which he would have looked on some tragedy.
Petronius did not lose hope that Vinicius had antic.i.p.ated the pretorians and fled with Lygia, or, in the worse case, had rescued her. But he would have preferred to be certain, since he foresaw that he might have to answer various questions for which he would better be prepared.
Stopping before the house of Tiberius, he alighted from the litter, and after a while entered the atrium, filled already with Augustians. Yesterday"s friends, though astonished that he was invited, still pushed back; but he moved on among them, beautiful, free, unconcerned, as self- confident as if he himself had the power to distribute favors. Some, seeing him thus, were alarmed in spirit lest they had shown him indifference too early.
Caesar, however, feigned not to see him, and did not return his obeisance, pretending to be occupied in conversation. But Tigellinus approached and said, "Good evening, Arbiter Elegantiarum. Dost thou a.s.sert still that it was not the Christians who burnt Rome?"
Petronius shrugged his shoulders, and, clapping Tigellinus on the back as he would a freedman, answered,-- "Thou knowest as well as I what to think of that."
"I do not dare to rival thee in wisdom."
"And thou art right, for when Caesar reads to us a new book from the Troyad, thou, instead of crying out like a jackdaw, wouldst have to give an opinion that was not pointless."
Tigellinus bit his lips. He was not over-rejoiced that Caesar had decided to read a new book, for that opened a field in which he could not rival Petronius. In fact, during the reading, Nero, from habit, turned his eyes involuntarily toward Petronius, looking carefully to see what he could read in his face. The latter listened, raised his brows, agreed at times, in places increased his attention as if to be sure that he heard correctly. Then he praised or criticised, demanded corrections or the smoothing of certain verses. Nero himself felt that for others in their exaggerated praises it was simply a question of themselves, that Petronius alone was occupied with poetry for its own sake; that he alone understood it, and that if he praised one could be sure that the verses deserved praise. Gradually therefore he began to discuss with him, to dispute; and when at last Petronius brought the fitness of a certain expression into doubt, he said,-- "Thou wilt see in the last book why I used it."
"Ah," thought Petronius, "then we shall wait for the last book."
More than one hearing this said in spirit: "Woe to me! Petronius with time before him may return to favor and overturn even Tigellinus." And they began again to approach him. But the end of the evening was less fortunate; for Caesar, at the moment when Petronius was taking leave, inquired suddenly, with blinking eyes and a face at once glad and malicious,-- "But why did not Vinicius come?"
Had Petronius been sure that Vinicius and Lygia were beyond the gates of the city, he would have answered, "With thy permission he has married and gone." But seeing Nero"s strange smile, he answered,-- "Thy invitation, divinity, did not find him at home."
"Say to Vinicius that I shall be glad to see him," answered Nero, "and tell him from me not to neglect the games in which Christians will appear."
These words alarmed Petronius. It seemed to him that they related to Lygia directly. Sitting in his litter, he gave command to bear him home still more quickly than in the morning. That, however, was not easy. Before the house of Tiberius stood a crowd dense and noisy, drunk as before, though not singing and dancing, but, as it were, excited. From afar came certain shouts which Petronius could not understand at once, but which rose and grew till at last they were one savage roar,-- "To the lions with Christians!"
Rich litters of courtiers pushed through the howling rabble. From the depth of burnt streets new crowds rushed forth continually; these, hearing the cry, repeated it. News pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth that the pursuit had continued from the forenoon, that a mult.i.tude of incendiaries were seized; and immediately along the newly cleared and the old streets, through alleys lying among ruins around the Palatine, over all the hills and gardens were heard through the length and breadth of Rome shouts of swelling rage,-- "To the lions with Christians!"
"Herd!" repeated Petronius, with contempt; "a people worthy of Caesar!" And he began to think that a society resting on superior force, on cruelty of which even barbarians had no conception, on crimes and mad profligacy, could not endure. Rome ruled the world, but was also its ulcer. The odor of a corpse was rising from it. Over its decaying life the shadow of death was descending. More than once this had been mentioned even among the Augustians, but never before had Petronius had a clearer view of this truth that the laurelled chariot on which Rome stood in the form of a triumphator, and which dragged behind a chained herd of nations, was going to the precipice. The life of that world- ruling city seemed to him a kind of mad dance, an orgy, which must end. He saw then that the Christians alone had a new basis of life; but he judged that soon there would not remain a trace of the Christians. And what then?
The mad dance would continue under Nero; and if Nero disappeared, another would be found of the same kind or worse, for with such a people and such patricians there was no reason to find a better leader. There would be a new orgy, and moreover a fouler and a viler one.
But the orgy could not last forever, and there would be need of sleep when it was over, even because of simple exhaustion.
While thinking of this, Petronius felt immensely wearied. Was it worth while to live, and live in uncertainty, with no purpose but to look at such a society? The genius of death was not less beautiful than the genius of sleep, and he also had wings at his shoulders.
The litter stopped before the arbiter"s door, which was opened that instant by the watchful keeper.
"Has the n.o.ble Vinicius returned?" inquired Petronius.
"Yes, lord, a moment ago," replied the slave.
"He has not rescued her," thought Petronius. And casting aside his toga, he ran into the atrium. Vinicius was sitting on a stool; his head bent almost to his knees with his hands on his head; but at the sound of steps he raised his stony face, in which the eyes alone had a feverish brightness.
"Thou wert late?" asked Petronius.
"Yes; they seized her before midday."
A moment of silence followed.
"Hast thou seen her?"
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
"In the Mamertine prison."
Petronius trembled and looked at Vinicius with an inquiring glance. The latter understood.
"No," said he. "She was not thrust down to the Tullianum [The lowest part of the prison, lying entirely underground, with a single opening in the ceiling. Jugurtha died there of hunger.] nor even to the middle prison. I paid the guard to give her his own room. Ursus took his place at the threshold and is guarding her."
"Why did Ursus not defend her?"
"They sent fifty pretorians, and Linus forbade him."
"But Linus?"
"Linus is dying; therefore they did not seize him."
"What is thy intention?"
"To save her or die with her. I too believe in Christ."
Vinicius spoke with apparent calmness; but there was such despair in his voice that the heart of Petronius quivered from pure pity.
"I understand thee," said he; "but how dost thou think to save her?"
"I paid the guards highly, first to shield her from indignity, and second not to hinder her flight."
"When can that happen?"
"They answered that they could not give her to me at once, as they feared responsibility. When the prison will be filled with a mult.i.tude of people, and when the tally of prisoners is confused, they will deliver her. But that is a desperate thing! Do thou save her, and me first! Thou art a friend of Caesar. He himself gave her to me. Go to him and save me!"
Petronius, instead of answering, called a slave, and, commanding him to bring two dark mantles and two swords, turned to Vinicius, "On the way I will tell thee," said he. "Meanwhile take the mantle and weapon, and we will go to the prison. There give the guards a hundred thousand sestertia; give them twice and five times more, if they will free Lygia at once. Otherwise it will be too late."
"Let us go," said Vinicius.
After a while both were on the street.
"Now listen to me," said Petronius. "I did not wish to lose time. I am in disfavor, beginning with to-day. My own life is hanging on a hair; hence I can do nothing with Caesar. Worse than that, I am sure that he would act in opposition to my request. If that were not the case, would I advise thee to flee with Lygia or to rescue her? Besides, if thou escape, Caesar"s wrath will turn on me. To-day he would rather do something at thy request than at mine. Do not count on that, however. Get her out of the prison, and flee! Nothing else is left. If that does not succeed, there will be time for other methods. Meanwhile know that Lygia is in prison, not alone for belief in Christ; Poppaea"s anger is pursuing her and thee. Thou hast offended the Augusta by rejecting her, dost remember? She knows that she was rejected for Lygia, whom she hated from the first cast of the eye. Nay, she tried to destroy Lygia before by ascribing the death of her own infant to her witchcraft. The hand of Poppaea is in this. How explain that Lygia was the first to be imprisoned? Who could point out the house of Linus? But I tell thee that she has been followed this long time. I know that I wring thy soul, and take the remnant of thy hope from thee, but I tell thee this purposely, for the reason that if thou free her not before they come at the idea that thou wilt try, ye are both lost."
"Yes; I understand!" muttered Vinicius.