Chapter V

AULUS had judged rightly that he would not be admitted to Nero's
presence. They told him that Cæsar was occupied in singing with the
lute-player, Terpnos, and that in general he did not receive those whom
he himself had not summoned. In other words, that Aulus must not
attempt in future to see him.

Seneca, though ill with a fever, received the old general with due
honor; but when he had heard what the question was, he laughed bitterly,
and said,--"I can render thee only one service, noble Plautius, not to
show Cæsar at any time that my heart feels thy pain, or that I should
like to aid thee; for should Cæsar have the least suspicion on this
head, know that he would not give thee back Lygia, though for no other
reason than to spite me."

He did not advise him, either, to go to Tigellinus or Vatinius or
Vitelius. It might be possible to do something with them through money;
perhaps, also, they would like to do evil to Petronius, whose influence
they were trying to undermine, but most likely they would disclose
before Nero how dear Lygia was to Plautius, and then Nero would all the
more resolve not to yield her to him. Here the old sage began to speak
with a biting irony, which he turned against himself: "Thou hast been
silent, Plautius, thou hast been silent for whole years, and Cæsar does
not like those who are silent. How couldst thou help being carried away
by his beauty, his virtue, his singing, his declamation, his chariot-
driving, and his verses? Why didst thou not glorify the death of
Britannicus, and repeat panegyrics in honor of the mother-slayer, and
not offer congratulations after the stifling of Octavia? Thou art
lacking in foresight, Aulus, which we who live happily at the court
possess in proper measure."

Thus speaking, he raised a goblet which he carried at his belt, took
water from a fountain at the impluvium, freshened his burning lips, and
continued,--"Ah, Nero has a grateful heart. He loves thee because thou
hast served Rome and glorified its name at the ends of the earth; he
loves me because I was his master in youth. Therefore, seest thou, I
know that this water is not poisoned, and I drink it in peace. Wine in
my own house would be less reliable. If thou art thirsty, drink boldly
of this water. The aqueducts bring it from beyond the Alban hills, and
any one wishing to poison it would have to poison every fountain in
Rome. As thou seest, it is possible yet to be safe in this world and to
have a quiet old age. I am sick, it is true, but rather in soul than in
body."

This was true. Seneca lacked the strength of soul which Cornutus
possessed, for example, or Thrasea; hence his life was a series of
concessions to crime. He felt this himself; he understood that an
adherent of the principles of Zeno, of Citium, should go by another
road, and he suffered more from that cause than from the fear of death
itself.

But the general interrupted these reflections full of grief.

"Noble Annæus," said he, "I know how Cæsar rewarded thee for the care
with which thou didst surround his years of youth. But the author of
the removal of Lygia is Petronius. Indicate to me a method against him,
indicate the influences to which he yields, and use besides with him all
the eloquence with which friendship for me of long standing can inspire
thee."

"Petronius and I," answered Seneca, "are men of two opposite camps; I
know of no method against him, he yields to no man's influence. Perhaps
with all his corruption he is worthier than those scoundrels with whom
Nero surrounds himself at present. But to show him that he has done an
evil deed is to lose time simply. Petronius has lost long since that
faculty which distinguishes good from evil. Show him that his act is
ugly, he will be ashamed of it. When I see him, I will say, 'Thy act is
worthy of a freedman.' If that will not help thee, nothing can."

"Thanks for that, even," answered the general.

Then he gave command to carry him to the house of Vinicius, whom he
found at sword practice with his domestic trainer. Aulus was borne away
by terrible anger at sight of the young man occupied calmly with fencing
during the attack on Lygia; and barely had the curtain dropped behind
the trainer when this anger burst forth in a torrent of bitter
reproaches and injuries. But Vinicius, when he learned that Lygia had
been carried away, grew so terribly pale that Aulus could not for even
an instant suspect him of sharing in the deed. The young man's forehead
was covered with sweat; the blood, which had rushed to his heart for a
moment, returned to his face in a burning wave; his eyes began to shoot
sparks, his mouth to hurl disconnected questions. Jealousy and rage
tossed him in turn, like a tempest. It seemed to him that Lygia, once
she had crossed the threshold of Cæsar's house, was lost to him
absolutely. When Aulus pronounced the name of Petronius, suspicion flew
like a lightning flash through the young soldier's mind, that Petronius
had made sport of him, and either wanted to win new favor from Nero by
the gift of Lygia, or keep her for himself. That any one who had seen
Lygia would not desire her at once, did not find a place in his head.
Impetuousness, inherited in his family, carried him away like a wild
horse, and took from him presence of mind.

"General," said he, with a broken voice, "return home and wait for me.
Know that if Petronius were my own father, I would avenge on him the
wrong done to Lygia. Return home and wait for me. Neither Petronius nor
Cæsar will have her."

Then he went with clinched fists to the waxed masks standing clothed in
the atrium, and burst out,--"By those mortal masks! I would rather kill
her and myself." When he had said this, he sent another "Wait for me"
after Aulus, then ran forth like a madman from the atrium, and flew to
Petronius's house, thrusting pedestrians aside on the way.

Aulus returned home with a certain encouragement. He judged that if
Petronius had persuaded Cæsar to take Lygia to give her to Vinicius,
Vinicius would bring her to their house. Finally, the thought was no
little consolation to him, that should Lygia not be rescued she would be
avenged and protected by death from disgrace. He believed that Vinicius
would do everything that he had promised. He had seen his rage, and he
knew the excitability innate in the whole family. He himself, though he
loved Lygia as her own father, would rather kill her than give her to
Cæsar; and had he not regarded his son, the last descendant of his
stock, he would doubtless have done so. Aulus was a soldier; he had
hardly heard of the Stoics, but in character he was not far from their
ideas,--death was more acceptable to his pride than disgrace.

When he returned home, he pacified Pomponia, gave her the consolation
that he had, and both began to await news from Vinicius. At moments
when the steps of some of the slaves were heard in the atrium, they
thought that perhaps Vinicius was bringing their beloved child to them,
and they were ready in the depth of their souls to bless both. Time
passed, however, and no news came. Only in the evening was the hammer
heard on the gate.

After a while a slave entered and handed Aulus a letter. The old
general, though he liked to show command over himself, took it with a
somewhat trembling hand, and began to read as hastily as if it were a
question of his whole house.

All at once his face darkened, as if a shadow from a passing cloud had
fallen on it.

"Read," said he, turning to Pomponia.

Pomponia took the letter and read as follows:--

"Marcus Vinicius to Aulus Plautius greeting. What has happened, has
happened by the will of Cæsar, before which incline your heads, as I and
Petronius incline ours."

A long silence followed.