Chapter XI

VINICIUS did not lie down that night. Some time after the departure of
Petronius, when the groans of his flogged slaves could allay neither his
rage nor his pain, he collected a crowd of other servants, and, though
the night was far advanced, rushed forth at the head of these to look
for Lygia. He visited the district of the Esquiline, then the Subura,
Vicus Sceleratus, and all the adjoining alleys. Passing next around the
Capitol, he went to the island over the bridge of Fabricius; after that
he passed through a part of the Trans-Tiber. But that was a pursuit
without object, for he himself had no hope of finding Lygia, and if he
sought her it was mainly to fill out with something a terrible night.
In fact he returned home about daybreak, when the carts and mules of
dealers in vegetables began to appear in the city, and when bakers were
opening their shops.

On returning he gave command to put away Gulo's corpse, which no one had
ventured to touch. The slaves from whom Lygia had been taken he sent to
rural prisons,--a punishment almost more dreadful than death. Throwing
himself at last on a couch in the atrium, he began to think confusedly
of how he was to find and seize Lygia.

To resign her, to lose her, not to see her again, seemed to him
impossible; and at this thought alone frenzy took hold of him. For the
first time in life the imperious nature of the youthful soldier met
resistance, met another unbending will, and he could not understand
simply how any one could have the daring to thwart his wishes. Vinicius
would have chosen to see the world and the city sink in ruins rather
than fail of his purpose. The cup of delight had been snatched from
before his lips almost; hence it seemed to him that something unheard of
had happened, something crying to divine and human laws for vengeance.

But, first of all, he was unwilling and unable to be reconciled with
fate, for never in life had he so desired anything as Lygia. It seemed
to him that he could not exist without her. He could not tell himself
what he was to do without her on the morrow, how he was to survive the
days following. At moments he was transported by a rage against her,
which approached madness. He wanted to have her, to beat her, to drag
her by the hair to the cubiculum, and gloat over her; then, again, he
was carried away by a terrible yearning for her voice, her form, her
eyes, and he felt that he would be ready to lie at her feet. He called
to her, gnawed his fingers, clasped his head with his hands. He strove
with all his might to think calmly about searching for her,--and was
unable. A thousand methods and means flew through his head, but one
wilder than another. At last the thought flashed on him that no one
else had intercepted her but Aulus, that in every case Aulus must know
where she was hiding. And he sprang up to run to the house of Aulus.

If they will not yield her to him, if they have no fear of his threats,
he will go to Cæsar, accuse the old general of disobedience, and obtain
a sentence of death against him; but before that, he will gain from them
a confession of where Lygia is. If they give her, even willingly, he
will be revenged. They received him, it is true, in their house and
nursed him,--but that is nothing! With this one injustice they have
freed him from every debt of gratitude. Here his vengeful and stubborn
soul began to take pleasure at the despair of Pomponia Græcina, when the
centurion would bring the death sentence to old Aulus. He was almost
certain that he would get it. Petronius would assist him. Moreover,
Cæsar never denies anything to his intimates, the Augustians, unless
personal dislike or desire enjoins a refusal.

Suddenly his heart almost died within him, under the influence of this
terrible supposition,--"But if Cæsar himself has taken Lygia?"

All knew that Nero from tedium sought recreation in night attacks. Even
Petronius took part in these amusements. Their main object was to seize
women and toss each on a soldier's mantle till she fainted. Even Nero
himself on occasions called these expeditions "pearl hunts," for it
happened that in the depth of districts occupied by a numerous and needy
population they caught a real pearl of youth and beauty sometimes. Then
the "sagatio," as they termed the tossing, was changed into a genuine
carrying away, and the pearl was sent either to the Palatine or to one
of Cæsar's numberless villas, or finally Cæsar yielded it to one of his
intimates. So might it happen also with Lygia. Cæsar had seen her
during the feast; and Vinicius doubted not for an instant that she must
have seemed to him the most beautiful woman he had seen yet. How could
it be otherwise? It is true that Lygia had been in Nero's own house on
the Palatine, and he might have kept her openly. But, as Petronius said
truly, Cæsar had no courage in crime, and, with power to act openly, he
chose to act always in secret. This time fear of Poppæa might incline
him also to secrecy. It occurred now to the young soldier that Aulus
would not have dared, perhaps, to carry off forcibly a girl given him,
Vinicius, by Cæsar. Besides, who would dare? Would that gigantic blue-
eyed Lygian, who had the courage to enter the triclinium and carry her
from the feast on his arm? But where could he hide with her; whither
could he take her? No! a slave would not have ventured that far. Hence
no one had done the deed except Cæsar.

At this thought it grew dark in his eyes, and drops of sweat covered his
forehead. In that case Lygia was lost to him forever. It was possible
to wrest her from the hands of any one else, but not from the hands of
Cæsar. Now, with greater truth than ever, could he exclaim, "Væ misero
mihi!" His imagination represented Lygia in Nero's arms, and, for the
first time in life, he understood that there are thoughts which are
simply beyond man's endurance. He knew then, for the first time, how he
loved her. As his whole life flashes through the memory of a drowning
man, so Lygia began to pass through his. He saw her, heard every word
of hers,--saw her at the fountain, saw her at the house of Aulus, and at
the feast; felt her near him, felt the odor of her hair, the warmth of
her body, the delight of the kisses which at the feast he had pressed on
her innocent lips. She seemed to him a hundred times sweeter, more
beautiful, more desired than ever,--a hundred times more the only one,
the one chosen from among all mortals and divinities. And when he
thought that all this which had become so fixed in his heart, which had
become his blood and life, might be possessed by Nero, a pain seized
him, which was purely physical, and so piercing that he wanted to beat
his head against the wall of the atrium, until he should break it. He
felt that he might go mad; and he would have gone mad beyond doubt, had
not vengeance remained to him. But as hitherto he had thought that he
could not live unless he got Lygia, he thought now that he would not die
till he had avenged her. This gave him a certain kind of comfort. "I
will be thy Cassius Chærea!" [The slayer of Caligula] said he to himself
in thinking of Nero. After a while, seizing earth in his hands from the
flower vases surrounding the impluvium, he made a dreadful vow to
Erebus, Hecate, and his own household lares, that he would have
vengeance.

And he received a sort of consolation. He had at least something to
live for and something with which to fill his nights and days. Then,
dropping his idea of visiting Aulus, he gave command to bear him to the
Palatine. Along the way he concluded that if they would not admit him
to Cæsar, or if they should try to find weapons on his person, it would
be a proof that Cæsar had taken Lygia. He had no weapons with him. He
had lost presence of mind in general; but as is usual with persons
possessed by a single idea, he preserved it in that which concerned his
revenge. He did not wish his desire of revenge to fall away
prematurely. He wished above all to see Acte, for he expected to learn
the truth from her. At moments the hope flashed on him that he might
see Lygia also, and at that thought he began to tremble. For if Cæsar
had carried her away without knowledge of whom he was taking, he might
return her that day. But after a while he cast aside this supposition.
Had there been a wish to return her to him, she would have been sent
yesterday. Acte was the only person who could explain everything, and
there was need to see her before others.

Convinced of this, he commanded the slaves to hasten; and along the road
he thought without order, now of Lygia, now of revenge. He had heard
that Egyptian priests of the goddess Pasht could bring disease on
whomever they wished, and he determined to learn the means of doing
this. In the Orient they had told him, too, that Jews have certain
invocations by which they cover their enemies' bodies with ulcers. He
had a number of Jews among his domestic slaves; hence he promised
himself to torture them on his return till they divulged the secret. He
found most delight, however, in thinking of the short Roman sword which
lets out a stream of blood such as had gushed from Caius Caligula and
made ineffaceable stains on the columns of the portico. He was ready to
exterminate all Rome; and had vengeful gods promised that all people
should die except him and Lygia, he would have accepted the promise.

In front of the arch he regained presence of mind, and thought when he
saw the pretorian guard, "If they make the least difficulty in admitting
me, they will prove that Lygia is in the palace by the will of Cæsar."

But the chief centurion smiled at him in a friendly manner, then
advanced a number of steps, and said,--"A greeting, noble tribune. If
thou desire to give an obeisance to Cæsar, thou hast found an
unfortunate moment. I do not think that thou wilt be able to see him."

"What has happened?" inquired Vinicius.

"The infant Augusta fell ill yesterday on a sudden. Cæsar and the
august Poppæa are attending her, with physicians whom they have summoned
from the whole city."

This was an important event. When that daughter was born to him, Cæsar
was simply wild from delight, and received her with extra humanum
gaudium. Previously the senate had committed the womb of Poppæa to the
gods with the utmost solemnity. A votive offering was made at Antium,
where the delivery took place; splendid games were celebrated, and
besides a temple was erected to the two Fortunes. Nero, unable to be
moderate in anything, loved the infant beyond measure; to Poppæa the
child was dear also, even for this, that it strengthened her position
and made her influence irresistible.

The fate of the whole empire might depend on the health and life of the
infant Augusta; but Vinicius was so occupied with himself, his own case
and his love, that without paying attention to the news of the centurion
he answered, "I only wish to see Acte." And he passed in.

But Acte was occupied also near the child, and he had to wait a long
time to see her. She came only about midday, with a face pale and
wearied, which grew paler still at sight of Vinicius.

"Acte!" cried Vinicius, seizing her hand and drawing her to the middle
of the atrium, "where is Lygia?"

"I wanted to ask thee touching that," answered she, looking him in the
eyes with reproach.

But though he had promised himself to inquire of her calmly, he pressed
his head with his hands again, and said, with a face distorted by pain
and anger,--"She is gone. She was taken from me on the way!"

After a while, however, he recovered, and thrusting his face up to
Acte's, said through his set teeth,--"Acte! If life be dear to thee, if
thou wish not to cause misfortunes which thou are unable even to
imagine, answer me truly. Did Cæsar take her?"

"Cæsar did not leave the palace yesterday."

"By the shade of thy mother, by all the gods, is she not in the palace?"

"By the shade of my mother, Marcus, she is not in the palace, and Cæsar
did not intercept her. The infant Augusta is ill since yesterday, and
Nero has not left her cradle."

Vinicius drew breath. That which had seemed the most terrible ceased to
threaten him.

"Ah, then," said he, sitting on the bench and clinching his fists,
"Aulus intercepted her, and in that case woe to him!"

"Aulus Plautius was here this morning. He could not see me, for I was
occupied with the child; but he inquired of Epaphroditus, and others of
Cæsar's servants, touching Lygia, and told them that he would come again
to see me."

"He wished to turn suspicion from himself. If he knew not what
happened, he would have come to seek Lygia in my house."

"He left a few words on a tablet, from which thou wilt see that, knowing
Lygia to have been taken from his house by Cæsar, at thy request and
that of Petronius, he expected that she would be sent to thee, and this
morning early he was at thy house, where they told him what had
happened."

When she had said this, she went to the cubiculum and returned soon with
the tablet which Aulus had left.

Vinicius read the tablet, and was silent; Acte seemed to read the
thoughts on his gloomy face, for she said after a while,--"No, Marcus.
That has happened which Lygia herself wished."

"It was known to thee that she wished to flee!" burst out Vinicius.

"I knew that she would not become thy concubine." And she looked at him
with her misty eyes almost sternly.

"And thou,--what hast thou been all thy life?"

"I was a slave, first of all."

But Vinicius did not cease to be enraged. Cæsar had given him Lygia;
hence he had no need to inquire what she had been before. He would find
her, even under the earth, and he would do what he liked with her. He
would indeed! She should be his concubine. He would give command to
flog her as often as he pleased. If she grew distasteful to him, he
would give her to the lowest of his slaves, or he would command her to
turn a handmill on his lands in Africa. He would seek her out now, and
find her only to bend her, to trample on her, and conquer her.

And, growing more and more excited, he lost every sense of measure, to
the degree that even Acte saw that he was promising more than he could
execute; that he was talking because of pain and anger. She might have
had even compassion on him, but his extravagance exhausted her patience,
and at last she inquired why he had come to her.

Vinicius did not find an answer immediately. He had come to her because
he wished to come, because he judged that she would give him
information; but really he had come to Cæsar, and, not being able to see
him, he came to her. Lygia, by fleeing, opposed the will of Cæsar;
hence he would implore him to give an order to search for her throughout
the city and the empire, even if it came to using for that purpose all
the legions, and to ransacking in turn every house within Roman
dominion. Petronius would support his prayer, and the search would
begin from that day.

"Have a care," answered Acte, "lest thou lose her forever the moment she
is found, at command of Cæsar."

Vinicius wrinkled his brows. "What does that mean?" inquired he.

"Listen to me, Marcus. Yesterday Lygia and I were in the gardens here,
and we met Poppæa, with the infant Augusta, borne by an African woman,
Lilith. In the evening the child fell ill, and Lilith insists that she
was bewitched; that that foreign woman whom they met in the garden
bewitched her. Should the child recover, they will forget this, but in
the opposite case Poppæa will be the first to accuse Lygia of
witchcraft, and wherever she is found there will be no rescue for her."

A moment of silence followed; then Vinicius said,--"But perhaps she did
bewitch her, and has bewitched me."

"Lilith repeats that the child began to cry the moment she carried her
past us. And really the child did begin to cry. It is certain that she
was sick when they took her out of the garden. Marcus, seek for Lygia
whenever it may please thee, but till the infant Augusta recovers, speak
not of her to Cæsar, or thou wilt bring on her Poppæa's vengeance. Her
eyes have wept enough because of thee already, and may all the gods
guard her poor head."

"Dost thou love her, Acte?" inquired Vinicius, gloomily.

"Yes, I love her." And tears glittered in the eyes of the freedwoman.

"Thou lovest her because she has not repaid thee with hatred, as she has
me."

Acte looked at him for a time as if hesitating, or as if wishing to
learn if he spoke sincerely; then she said,--"O blind and passionate
man--she loved thee."

Vinicius sprang up under the influence of those words, as if possessed.
"It is not true."

She hated him. How could Acte know? Would Lygia make a confession to
her after one day's acquaintance? What love is that which prefers
wandering, the disgrace of poverty, the uncertainty of to-morrow, or a
shameful death even, to a wreath-bedecked house, in which a lover is
waiting with a feast? It is better for him not to hear such things, for
he is ready to go mad. He would not have given that girl for all
Cæsar's treasures, and she fled. What kind of love is that which dreads
delight and gives pain? Who can understand it? Who can fathom it?
Were it not for the hope that he should find her, he would sink a sword
in himself. Love surrenders; it does not take away. There were moments
at the house of Aulus when he himself believed in near happiness, but
now he knows that she hated him, that she hates him, and will die with
hatred in her heart.

But Acte, usually mild and timid, burst forth in her turn with
indignation. How had he tried to win Lygia? Instead of bowing before
Aulus and Pomponia to get her, he took the child away from her parents
by stratagem. He wanted to make, not a wife, but a concubine of her,
the foster daughter of an honorable house, and the daughter of a king.
He had her brought to this abode of crime and infamy; he defiled her
innocent eyes with the sight of a shameful feast; he acted with her as
with a wanton. Had he forgotten the house of Aulus and Pomponia
Græcina, who had reared Lygia? Had he not sense enough to understand
that there are women different from Nigidia or Calvia Crispinilla or
Poppæa, and from all those whom he meets in Cæsar's house? Did he not
understand at once on seeing Lygia that she is an honest maiden, who
prefers death to infamy? Whence does he know what kind of gods she
worships, and whether they are not purer and better than the wanton
Venus, or than Isis, worshipped by the profligate women of Rome? No!
Lygia had made no confession to her, but she had said that she looked
for rescue to him, to Vinicius: she had hoped that he would obtain for
her permission from Cæsar to return home, that he would restore her to
Pomponia. And while speaking of this, Lygia blushed like a maiden who
loves and trusts. Lygia's heart beat for him; but he, Vinicius, had
terrified and offended her; had made her indignant; let him seek her now
with the aid of Cæsar's soldiers, but let him know that should Poppæa's
child die, suspicion will fall on Lygia, whose destruction will then be
inevitable.

Emotion began to force its way through the anger and pain of Vinicius.
The information that he was loved by Lygia shook him to the depth of his
soul. He remembered her in Aulus's garden, when she was listening to
his words with blushes on her face and her eyes full of light. It
seemed to him then that she had begun to love him; and all at once, at
that thought, a feeling of certain happiness embraced him, a hundred
times greater than that which he desired. He thought that he might have
won her gradually, and besides as one loving him. She would have
wreathed his door, rubbed it with wolf's fat, and then sat as his wife
by his hearth on the sheepskin. He would have heard from her mouth the
sacramental: "Where thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia." And she would
have been his forever. Why did he not act thus? True, he had been
ready so to act. But now she is gone, and it may be impossible to find
her; and should he find her, perhaps he will cause her death, and should
he not cause her death, neither she nor Aulus nor Pomponia Græcina will
favor him. Here anger raised the hair on his head again; but his anger
turned now, not against the house of Aulus, or Lygia, but against
Petronius. Petronius was to blame for everything. Had it not been for
him Lygia would not have been forced to wander; she would be his
betrothed, and no danger would be hanging over her dear head. But now
all is past, and it is too late to correct the evil which will not yield
to correction.

"Too late!" And it seemed to him that a gulf had opened before his
feet. He did not know what to begin, how to proceed, whither to betake
himself. Acte repeated as an echo the words, "Too late," which from
another's mouth sounded like a death sentence. He understood one thing,
however, that he must find Lygia, or something evil would happen to him.

And wrapping himself mechanically in his toga, he was about to depart
without taking farewell even of Acte, when suddenly the curtain
separating the entrance from the atrium was pushed aside, and he saw
before him the pensive figure of Pomponia Græcina.

Evidently she too had heard of the disappearance of Lygia, and, judging
that she could see Acte more easily than Aulus, had come for news to
her.

But, seeing Vinicius, she turned her pale, delicate face to him, and
said, after a pause,--"May God forgive thee the wrong, Marcus, which
thou hast done to us and to Lygia."

He stood with drooping head, with a feeling of misfortune and guilt, not
understanding what God was to forgive him or could forgive him.
Pomponia had no cause to mention forgiveness; she ought to have spoken
of revenge.

At last he went out with a head devoid of counsel, full of grievous
thoughts, immense care, and amazement.

In the court and under the gallery were crowds of anxious people. Among
slaves of the palace were knights and senators who had come to inquire
about the health of the infant, and at the same time to show themselves
in the palace, and exhibit a proof of their anxiety, even in presence of
Nero's slaves. News of the illness of the "divine" had spread quickly
it was evident, for new forms appeared in the gateway every moment, and
through the opening of the arcade whole crowds were visible. Some of
the newly arrived, seeing that Vinicius was coming from the palace,
attacked him for news; but he hurried on without answering their
questions, till Petronius, who had come for news too, almost struck his
breast and stopped him.

Beyond doubt Vinicius would have become enraged at sight of Petronius,
and let himself do some lawless act in Cæsar's palace, had it not been
that when he had left Acte he was so crushed, so weighed down and
exhausted, that for the moment even his innate irascibility had left
him. He pushed Petronius aside and wished to pass; but the other
detained him, by force almost.

"How is the divine infant?" asked he.

But this constraint angered Vinicius a second time, and roused his
indignation in an instant.

"May Hades swallow her and all this house!" said he, gritting his teeth.

"Silence, hapless man!" said Petronius, and looking around he added
hurriedly,--"If thou wish to know something of Lygia, come with me; I
will tell nothing here! Come with me; I will tell my thoughts in the
litter."

And putting his arm around the young tribune, he conducted him from the
palace as quickly as possible. That was his main concern, for he had no
news whatever; but being a man of resources, and having, in spite of his
indignation of yesterday, much sympathy for Vinicius, and finally
feeling responsible for all that had happened, he had undertaken
something already, and when they entered the litter he said,--"I have
commanded my slaves to watch at every gate. I gave them an accurate
description of the girl, and that giant who bore her from the feast at
Cæsar's,--for he is the man, beyond doubt, who intercepted her. Listen
to me: Perhaps Aulus and Pomponia wish to secrete her in some estate of
theirs; in that case we shall learn the direction in which they took
her. If my slaves do not see her at some gate, we shall know that she
is in the city yet, and shall begin this very day to search in Rome for
her."

"Aulus does not know where she is," answered Vinicius.

"Art thou sure of that?"

"I saw Pomponia. She too is looking for her."

"She could not leave the city yesterday, for the gates are closed at
night. Two of my people are watching at each gate. One is to follow
Lygia and the giant, the other to return at once and inform me. If she
is in the city, we shall find her, for that Lygian is easily recognized,
even by his stature and his shoulders. Thou art lucky that it was not
Cæsar who took her, and I can assure thee that he did not, for there are
no secrets from me on the Palatine."

But Vinicius burst forth in sorrow still more than in anger, and in a
voice broken by emotion told Petronius what he had heard from Acte, and
what new dangers were threatening Lygia,--dangers so dreadful that
because of them there would be need to hide her from Poppæa most
carefully, in case they discovered her. Then he reproached Petroruus
bitterly for his counsel. Had it not been for him, everything would
have gone differently. Lygia would have been at the house of Aulus, and
he, Vinicius, might have seen her every day, and he would have been
happier at that moment than Cæsar. And carried away as he went on with
his narrative, he yielded more and more to emotion, till at last tears
of sorrow and rage began to fall from his eyes.

Petronius, who had not even thought that the young man could love and
desire to such a degree, when he saw the tears of despair said to
himself, with a certain astonishment,--"O mighty Lady of Cyprus, thou
alone art ruler of gods and men!"