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Home -> Henryk Sienkiewicz -> Quo Vadis -> Chapter XLIII

Quo Vadis - Chapter XLIII

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter II

3. Chapter III

4. Chapter IV

5. Chapter V

6. Chapter VI

7. Chapter VII

8. Chapter VIII

9. Chapter IX

10. Chapter X

11. Chapter XI

12. Chapter XII

13. Chapter XIII

14. Chapter XIV

15. Chapter XV

16. Chapter XVI

17. Chapter XVII

18. Chapter XVIII

19. Chapter XIX

20. Chapter XX

21. Chapter XXI

22. Chapter XXII

23. Chapter XXIII

24. Chapter XXIV

25. Chapter XXV

26. Chapter XXVI

27. Chapter XXVII

28. Chapter XXVIII

29. Chapter XXIX

30. Chapter XXX

31. Chapter XXXI

32. Chapter XXXII

33. Chapter XXXIII

34. Chapter XXXIV

35. Chapter XXXV

36. Chapter XXXVI

37. Chapter XXXVII

38. Chapter XXXVIII

39. Chapter XXXIX

40. Chapter XL

41. Chapter XLI

42. Chapter XLII

43. Chapter XLIII

44. Chapter XLIV

45. Chapter XLV

46. Chapter XLVI

47. Chapter XLVII

48. Chapter XLVIII

49. Chapter XLIX

50. Chapter L

51. Chapter LI

52. Chapter LII

53. Chapter LIII

54. Chapter LIV

55. Chapter LV

56. Chapter LVI

57. Chapter LVII

58. Chapter LVIII

59. Chapter LIX

60. Chapter LX

61. Chapter LXI

62. Chapter LXII

63. Chapter LXIII

64. Chapter LXIV

65. Chapter LXV

66. Chapter LXVI

67. Chapter LXVII

68. Chapter LXVIII

69. Chapter LXIX

70. Chapter LXX

71. Chapter LXXI

72. Chapter LXXII

73. Chapter LXXIII

74. Epilogue







Chapter XLIII

As Vinicius approached the walls, he found it easier to reach Rome than
penetrate to the middle of the city. It was difficult to push along the
Appian Way, because of the throng of people. Houses, fields, cemeteries,
gardens, and temples, lying on both sides of it, were turned into
camping places. In the temple of Mars, which stood near the Porta
Appia, the crowd had thrown down the doors, so as to find a refuge
within during night-hours. In the cemeteries the larger monuments were
seized, and battles fought in defence of them, which were carried to
bloodshed. Ustrinum with its disorder gave barely a slight foretaste of
that which was happening beneath the walls of the capital. All regard
for the dignity of law, for family ties, for difference of position, had
ceased. Gladiators drunk with wine seized in the Emporium gathered in
crowds, ran with wild shouts through the neighboring squares,
scattering, trampling, and robbing the people. A multitude of
barbarians, exposed for sale in the city, escaped from the booths. For
them the burning and ruin of Rome was at once the end of slavery and the
hour of revenge; so that when the permanent inhabitants, who had lost
all they owned in the fire, stretched their hands to the gods in
despair, calling for rescue, these slaves with howls of delight
scattered the crowds, dragged clothing from people's backs, and bore
away the younger women. They were joined by slaves serving in the city
from of old, wretches who had nothing on their bodies save woollen
girdles around their hips, dreadful figures from the alleys, who were
hardly ever seen on the streets in the daytime, and whose existence in
Rome it was difficult to suspect. Men of this wild and unrestrained
crowd, Asiatics, Africans, Greeks, Thracians, Germans, Britons, howling
in every language of the earth, raged, thinking that the hour had come
in which they were free to reward themselves for years of misery and
suffering. In the midst of that surging throng of humanity, in the
glitter of day and of fire, shone the helmets of pretorians, under whose
protection the more peaceable population had taken refuge, and who in
hand-to-hand battle had to meet the raging multitude in many places.
Vinicius had seen captured cities, but never had his eyes beheld a
spectacle in which despair, tears, pain, groans, wild delight, madness,
rage, and license were mingled together in such immeasurable chaos.
Above this heaving, mad human multitude roared the fire, surging up to
the hill-tops of the greatest city on earth, sending into the whirling
throng its fiery breath, and covering it with smoke, through which it
was impossible to see the blue sky. The young tribune with supreme
effort, and exposing his life every moment, forced his way at last to
the Appian Gate; but there he saw that he could not reach the city
through the division of the Porta Capena, not merely because of the
throng, but also because of the terrible heat from which the whole
atmosphere was quivering inside the gate. Besides, the bridge at the
Porta Trigenia, opposite the temple of the Bona Dea, did not exist yet,
hence whoso wished to go beyond the Tiber had to push through to the
Pons Sublicius, that is, to pass around the Aventine through a part of
the city covered now with one sea of flame. That was an impossibility.
Vinicius understood that he must return toward Ustrinum, turn from the
Appian Way, cross the river below the city, and go to the Via
Portuensis, which led straight to the Trans-Tiber. That was not easy
because of the increasing disorder on the Appian Way. He must open a
passage for himself there, even with the sword. Vinicius had no
weapons; he had left Antium just as the news of the fire had reached him
in Cæsar's villa. At the fountain of Mercury, however, he saw a
centurion who was known to him. This man, at the head of a few tens of
soldiers, was defending the precinct of the temple; he commanded him to
follow. Recognizing a tribune and an Augustian, the centurion did not
dare to disobey the order.

Vinicius took command of the detachment himself, and, forgetting for
that moment the teaching of Paul touching love for one's neighbor, he
pressed and cut the throng in front with a haste that was fatal to many
who could not push aside in season. He and his men were followed by
curses and a shower of stones; but to these he gave no heed, caring only
to reach freer spaces at the earliest. Still he advanced with the
greatest effort. People who had encamped would not move, and heaped
loud curses on Cæsar and the pretorians. The throng assumed in places a
threatening aspect. Vinicius heard voices accusing Nero of burning the
city. He and Poppæa were threatened with death. Shouts of "Sanio,"
"Histrio" (buffoon, actor), "Matricide!" were heard round about. Some
shouted to drag him to the Tiber; others that Rome had shown patience
enough. It was clear that were a leader found, these threats could be
changed into open rebellion which might break out any moment. Meanwhile
the rage and despair of the crowd turned against the pretorians, who for
another reason could not make their way out of the crowd: the road was
blocked by piles of goods, borne from the fire previously, boxes,
barrels of provisions, furniture the most costly, vessels, infants'
cradles, beds, carts, hand-packs. Here and there they fought hand to
hand; but the pretorians conquered the weaponless multitude easily.
After they had ridden with difficulty across the Viæ Latina, Numitia,
Ardea, Lavinia, and Ostia, and passed around villas, gardens,
cemeteries, and temples, Vinicius reached at last a village called Vicus
Alexandri, beyond which he crossed the Tiber. There was more open space
at this spot, and less smoke. From fugitives, of whom there was no lack
even there, he learned that only certain alleys of the Trans-Tiber were
burning, but that surely nothing could resist the fury of the
conflagration, since people were spreading the fire purposely, and
permitted no one to quench it, declaring that they acted at command.
The young tribune had not the least doubt then that Cæsar had given
command to burn Rome; and the vengeance which people demanded seemed to
him just and proper. What more could Mithridates or any of Rome's most
inveterate enemies have done? The measure had been exceeded; his
madness had grown to be too enormous, and the existence of people too
difficult because of him. Vinicius believed that Nero's hour had
struck, that those ruins into which the city was falling should and must
overwhelm the monstrous buffoon together with all those crimes of his.
Should a man be found of courage sufficient to stand at the head of the
despairing people, that might happen in a few hours. Here vengeful and
daring thoughts began to fly through his head. But if he should do
that? The house of Vinicius, which till recent times counted a whole
series of consuls, was known throughout Rome. The crowds needed only a
name. Once, when four hundred slaves of the prefect Pedanius Secundus
were sentenced, Rome reached the verge of rebellion and civil war. What
would happen to-day in view of a dreadful calamity surpassing almost
everything which Rome had undergone in the course of eight centuries?
Whoso calls the Quirites to arms, thought Vinicius, will overthrow Nero
undoubtedly, and clothe himself in purple. And why should he not do
this? He was firmer, more active, younger than other Augustians. True,
Nero commanded thirty legions stationed on the borders of the Empire;
but would not those legions and their leaders rise up at news of the
burning of Rome and its temples? And in that case Vinicius might become
Cæsar. It was even whispered among the Augustians that a soothsayer had
predicted the purple to Otho. In what way was he inferior to Otho?
Perhaps Christ Himself would assist him with His divine power; maybe
that inspiration was His? "Oh, would that it were!" exclaimed Vinicius,
in spirit. He would take vengeance on Nero for the danger of Lygia and
his own fear; he would begin the reign of truth and justice, he would
extend Christ's religion from the Euphrates to the misty shores of
Britain; he would array Lygia in the purple, and make her mistress of
the world.

But these thoughts which had burst forth in his head like a bunch of
sparks from a blazing house, died away like sparks. First of all was
the need to save Lygia. He looked now on the catastrophe from near by;
hence fear seized him again, and before that sea of flame and smoke,
before the touch of dreadful reality, that confidence with which he
believed that Peter would rescue Lygia died in his heart altogether.
Despair seized him a second time when he had come out on the Via
Portuensis, which led directly to the Trans-Tiber. He did not recover
till he came to the gate, where people repeated what fugitives had said
before, that the greater part of that division of the city was not
seized by the flames yet, but that fire had crossed the river in a
number of places.

Still the Trans-Tiber was full of smoke, and crowds of fugitives made it
more difficult to reach the interior of the place, since people, having
more time there, had saved greater quantities of goods. The main street
itself was in many parts filled completely, and around the Naumachia
Augusta great heaps were piled up. Narrow alleys, in which smoke had
collected more densely, were simply impassable. The inhabitants were
fleeing in thousands. On the way Vinicius saw wonderful sights. More
than once two rivers of people, flowing in opposite directions, met in a
narrow passage, stopped each other, men fought hand to hand, struck and
trampled one another. Families lost one another in the uproar; mothers
called on their children despairingly. The young tribune's hair stood
on end at thought of what must happen nearer the fire. Amid shouts and
howls it was difficult to inquire about anything or understand what was
said. At times new columns of smoke from beyond the river rolled toward
them, smoke black and so heavy that it moved near the ground, hiding
houses, people, and every object, just as night does. But the wind
caused by the conflagration blew it away again, and then Vinicius pushed
forward farther toward the alley in which stood the house of Linus. The
fervor of a July day, increased by the heat of the burning parts of the
city, became unendurable. Smoke pained the eyes; breath failed in men's
breasts. Even the inhabitants who, hoping that the fire would not cross
the river, had remained in their houses so far, began to leave them; and
the throng increased hourly. The pretorians accompanying Vinicius
remained in the rear. In the crush some one wounded his horse with a
hammer; the beast threw up its bloody head, reared, and refused
obedience. The crowd recognized in Vinicius an Augustian by his rich
tunic, and at once cries were raised round about: "Death to Nero and his
incendiaries!" This was a moment of terrible danger; hundreds of hands
were stretched toward Vinicius; but his frightened horse bore him away,
trampling people as he went, and the next moment a new wave of black
smoke rolled in and filled the street with darkness. Vinicius, seeing
that he could not ride past, sprang to the earth and rushed forward on
foot, slipping along walls, and at times waiting till the fleeing
multitude passed him. He said to himself in spirit that these were vain
efforts. Lygia might not be in the city; she might have saved herself
by flight. It was easier to find a pin on the seashore than her in that
crowd and chaos. Still he wished to reach the house of Linus, even at
the cost of his own life. At times he stopped and rubbed his eyes.
Tearing off the edge of his tunic, he covered his nose and mouth with it
and ran on. As he approached the river, the heat increased terribly.
Vinicius, knowing that the fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, thought
at first that that heat came from its cinders and from the Forum Boarium
and the Velabrum, which, situated near by, must be also in flames. But
the heat was growing unendurable. One old man on crutches and fleeing,
the last whom Vinicius noticed, cried: "Go not near the bridge of
Cestius! The whole island is on fire!" It was, indeed, impossible to
be deceived any longer. At the turn toward the Vicus Judæorum, on which
stood the house of Linus, vhae young tribune saw flames amid clouds of
smoke. Not only the island was burning, but the Trans-Tiber, or at
least the other end of the street on which Lygia dwelt.

Vinicius remembered that the house of Linus was surrounded by a garden;
between the garden and the Tiber was an unoccupied field of no great
size. This thought consoled him. The fire might stop at the vacant
place. In that hope he ran forward, though every breeze brought not
only smoke, but sparks in thousands, which might raise a fire at the
other end of the alley and cut off his return.

At last he saw through the smoky curtain the cypresses in Linus's
garden.

The houses beyond the unoccupied field were burning already like piles
of fuel, but Linus's little "insula" stood untouched yet. Vinicius
glanced heavenward with thankfulness, and sprang toward the house though
the very air began to burn him. The door was closed, but he pushed it
open and rushed in.

There was not a living soul in the gardrn, and the house seemed quite
empty. "Perhaps they have fainted from smoke and heat," thought
Vinicius. He began to call,--

"Lygia! Lygia!"

Silence answered him. Nothing could be heard in the stillness there
save the roar of the distant fire.

"Lygia!"

Suddenly his ear was struck by that gloomy sound which he had heard
before in that garden. Evidently the vivarium near the temple of
Esculapius, on the neighboring island, had caught fire. In this
vivarium every kind of wild beast, and among others lions, began to roar
from affright. A shiver ran through Vinicius from foot to head. Now, a
second time, at a moment when his whole being was concentrated in Lygia,
these terrible voices answered, as a herald of misfortune, as a
marvellous prophecy of an ominous future.

But this was a brief impression, for the thunder of the flames, more
terrible yet than the roaring of wild beasts, commanded him to think of
something else. Lygia did not answer his calls; but she might be in a
faint or stifled in that threatened building. Vinicius sprang to the
interior. The little atrium was empty, and dark with smoke. Feeling
for the door which led to the sleeping-rooms, he saw the gleaming flame
of a small lamp, and approaching it saw the lararium in which was a
cross instead of lares. Under the cross a taper was burning. Through
the head of the young catechumen, the thought passed with lightning
speed that that cross sent him the taper with which he could find Lygia;
hence he took the taper and searched for the sleeping-rooms. He found
one, pushed aside the curtains, and, holding the taper, looked around.

There was no one there, either. Vinicius was sure that he had found
Lygia's sleeping-room, for her clothing was on nails in the wall, and on
the bed lay a capitium, or close garment worn by women next the body.
Vinicius seized that, pressed it to his lips, and taking it on his arm
went farther. The house was small, so that he examined every room, and
even the cellar quickly. Nowhere could he find a living soul. It was
evident that Lygia, Linus, and Ursus, with other inhabitants of that
part, must have sought safety in flight.

"I must seek them among the crowd beyond the gates of the city," thought
Vinicius.

He was not astonished greatly at not meeting them on the Via Portuensis,
for they might have left the Trans-Tiber through the opposite side along
the Vatican Hill. In every case they were safe from fire at least. A
stone fell from his breast. He saw, it is true, the terrible danger
with which the flight was connected, but he was comforted at thought of
the preterhuman strength of Ursus. "I must flee now," said he, "and
reach the gardens of Agrippina through the gardens of Domitius, where I
shall find them. The smoke is not so terrible there, since the wind
blows from the Sabine Hill."

The hour had come now in which he must think of his own safety, for the
river of fire was flowing nearer and nearer from the direction of the
island, and rolls of smoke covered the alley almost completely. The
taper, which had lighted him in the house, was quenched from the current
of air. Vinicius rushed to the street, and ran at full speed toward the
Via Portuensis, whence he had come; the fire seemed to pursue him with
burning breath, now surrounding him with fresh clouds of smoke, now
covering him with sparks, which fell on his hair, neck, and clothing.
The tunic began to smoulder on him in places; he cared not, but ran
forward lest he might be stifled from smoke. He had the taste of soot
and burning in his mouth; his throat and lungs were as if on fire. The
blood rushed to his head, and at moments all things, even the smoke
itself, seemed red to him. Then he thought: "This is living fire!
Better cast myself on the ground and perish." The running tortured him
more and more. His head, neck, and shoulders were streaming with sweat,
which scalded like boiling water. Had it not been for Lygia's name,
repeated by him in thought, had it not been for her capitium, which he
wound across his mouth, he would have fallen. Some moments later he
failed to recognize the street along which he ran. Consciousness was
leaving him gradually; he remembered only that he must flee, for in the
open field beyond waited Lygia, whom Peter had promised him. And all at
once he was seized by a certain wonderful conviction, half feverish,
like a vision before death, that he must see her, marry her, and then
die.

But he ran on as if drunk, staggering from one side of the street to the
other. Meanwhile something changed in that monstrous conflagration
which had embraced the giant city. Everything which till then had only
glimmered, burst forth visibly into one sea of flame; the wind had
ceased to bring smoke. That smoke which had collected in the streets
was borne away by a mad whirl of heated air. That whirl drove with it
millions of sparks, so that Vinicius was running in a fiery cloud as it
were. But he was able to see before him all the better, and in a
moment, almost when he was ready to fall, he saw the end of the street.
That sight gave him fresh strength. Passing the corner, he found
himself in a street which led to the Via Portuensis and the Codetan
Field. The sparks ceased to drive him. He understood that if he could
run to the Via Portuensis he was safe, even were he to faint on it.

At the end of the street he saw again a cloud, as it seemed, which
stopped the exit. "If that is smoke," thought he, "I cannot pass." He
ran with the remnant of his strength. On the way he threw off his
tunic, which, on fire from the sparks, was burning him like the shirt of
Nessus, having only Lygia's capitium around his head and before his
mouth. When he had run farther, he saw that what he had taken for smoke
was dust, from which rose a multitude of cries and voices.

"The rabble are plundering houses," thought Vinicius. But he ran toward
the voices. In every case people were there; they might assist him. In
this hope he shouted for aid with all his might before he reached them.
But this was his last effort. It grew redder still in his eyes, breath
failed his lungs, strength failed his bones; he fell.

They heard him, however, or rather saw him. Two men ran with gourds
full of water. Vinicius, who had fallen from exhaustion but had not
lost consciousness, seized a gourd with both hands, and emptied one-half
of it.

"Thanks," said he; "place me on my feet, I can walk on alone."

The other laborer poured water on his head; the two not only placed him
on his feet, but raised him from the ground, and carried him to the
others, who surrounded him and asked if he had suffered seriously. This
tenderness astonished Vinicius.

"People, who are ye?" asked he.

"We are breaking down houses, so that the fire may not reach the Via
Portuensis," answered one of the laborers.

"Ye came to my aid when I had fallen. Thanks to you."

"We are not permitted to refuse aid," answered a number of voices.

Vinicius, who from early morning had seen brutal crowds, slaying and
robbing, looked with more attention on the faces around him, and said,--

"May Christ reward you."

"Praise to His name!" exclaimed a whole chorus of voices.

"Linus?" inquired Vinicius.

But he could not finish the question or hear the answer, for he fainted
from emotion and over-exertion. He recovered only in the Codetan Field
in a garden, surrounded by a number of men and women. The first words
which he uttered were,--

"Where is Linus?"

For a while there was no answer; then some voice, known to Vinicius,
said all at once,--

"He went out by the Nomentan Gate to Ostrianum two days ago. Peace be
with thee, O king of Persia!"

Vinicius rose to a sitting posture, and saw Chilo before him.

"Thy house is burned surely, O lord," said the Greek, "for the Carinæ is
in flames; but thou wilt be always as rich as Midas. Oh, what a
misfortune! The Christians, O son of Serapis, have predicted this long
time that fire would destroy the city. But Linus, with the daughter of
Jove, is in Ostrianum. Oh, what a misfortune for the city!"

Vinicius became weak again.

"Hast thou seen them?" he inquired.

"I saw them, O lord. May Christ and all the gods be thanked that I am
able to pay for thy benefactions with good news. But, O Cyrus, I shall
pay thee still more, I swear by this burning Rome."

It was evening, but in the garden one could see as in daylight, for the
conflagration had increased. It seemed that not single parts of the
city were burning, but the whole city through the length and the breadth
of it. The sky was red as far as the eye could see it, and that night
in the world was a red night.




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