Chapter L

ON leaving Caesar, Petronius had himself borne to his house on the
Cariae, which, being surrounded on three sides by a garden, and having
in front the small Cecilian Forum, escaped the fire luckily. For this
cause other Augustians, who had lost their houses and in them vast
wealth and many works of art, called Petronius fortunate. For years it
had been repeated that he was the first-born of Fortune, and Cæsar's
growing friendship in recent times seemed to confirm the correctness of
this statement.

But that first-born of Fortune might meditate now on the fickleness of
his mother, or rather on her likeness to Chronos, who devoured his own
children.

"Were my house burnt," said he to himself, "and with it my gems,
Etruscan vases, Alexandrian glass, and Corinthian bronze, Nero might
indeed have forgotten the offence. By Pollux! And to think that it
depended on me alone to be pretorian prefect at this moment. I should
proclaim Tigellinus the incendiary, which he is really; I should array
him in the 'painful tunic,' and deliver him to the populace, protect the
Christians, rebuild Rome. Who knows even if a better epoch would not
begin thus for honest people? I ought to have taken the office, simply
out of regard for Vinicius. In case of overwork I could have
surrendered command to him, and Nero would not have even tried to
resist. Then let Vinicius baptize all the pretorians, nay, Cæsar
himself; what harm could that be to me? Nero pious, Nero virtuous and
merciful,--this would be even an amusing spectacle."

And his carelessness was so great that he began to laugh. But after a
time his thoughts turned in another direction. It seemed to him that he
was in Antium; that Paul of Tarsus was saying to him, "Ye call us
enemies of life, but answer me, Petronius: If Cæsar were a Christian,
and acted according to our religion, would not life be safer and more
certain?"

And remembering these words, he continued: "By Castor! No matter how
many Christians they murder here, Paul will find as many new ones; for
he is right, unless the world can rest on scoundrelism. But who knows
that this will not be the case soon? I myself, who have learned not a
little, did not learn how to be a great enough scoundrel; hence I shall
have to open my veins. But in every case it must have ended thus, and
if not thus, in some other way. I am sorry for Eunice and my Myrrhene
vase; but Eunice is free, and the vase will go with me. Ahenobarbus
will not get it, in any event! I am sorry also for Vinicius. But,
though I was bored less of late than before, I am ready. In the world
things are beautiful; but people are so vile for the greater part that
life is not worth a regret. He who knew how to live should know how to
die. Though I belong to the Augustians, I was freer than they supposed."
Here he shrugged his shoulders. "They may think that my knees are
trembling at this moment, and that terror has raised the hair on my
head; but on reaching home, I will take a bath in violet water, my
golden-haired herself will anoint me; then after refreshment we will
have sung to us that hymn to Apollo composed by Anthemios. I said once
to myself that it was not worth while to think of death, for death
thinks of us without our assistance. It would be a wonder if there are
really Elysian fields, and in them shades of people. Eunice would come
in time to me, and we should wander together over asphodel meadows. I
should find, too, society better than this. What buffoons, tricksters,
a vile herd without taste or polish! Tens of Arbiters Elegantiarum
could not transform those Trimalchilons into decent people. By
Persephone! I have had enough!"

And he noted with astonishment that something separated him from those
people already. He had known them well earlier, and had known what to
think of them; still they seemed to him now as farther away and more
deserving of contempt than usual. Indeed, he had had enough of them!

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 pass. 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 sturdy Bithynians bore his litter quickly through ruins, ash-heaps,
and stones with which the Carinæ 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 Cæsar'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
circumstance, 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 anticipate 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 assistance?"
Thinking of this he was consoled. True, armed resistance to the
pretorians was almost the same as war with Cæsar. 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 Cæsar, 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 goddess. 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 grass plot in the garden?"

"The cypresses and the grass 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 elæothesium 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
shell; 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
Cæsar, wishes to see thee."

The song and the sound of lutes ceased. Alarm was roused in all
present; for Cæsar, 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.

"Noble lord," said he, "here is a letter from Cæsar."

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, noble 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 gods 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."

"Cæsar 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 god, 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 Cæsar'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 space for the
litter "of the noble 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 passing 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 anticipated 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.

Cæsar, 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 assert 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 Cæsar 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 Cæsar 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 Cæsar, 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 passed from mouth to mouth that the
pursuit had continued from the forenoon, that a multitude 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 Cæsar!"
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 noble 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."

Viicius 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 multitude
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 Cæsar. 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 Cæsar. 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, Cæsar'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; Poppæa'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 Poppæa 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.

The streets were empty because of the late hour. Their further
conversation was interrupted, however, by a drunken gladiator who came
toward them. He reeled against Petronius, put one hand on his shoulder,
covering his face with a breath filled with wine, and shouted in a
hoarse voice,--

"To the lions with Christians!"

"Mirmillon," answered Petronius, quietly, "listen to good counsel; go
thy way."

With his other hand the drunken man seized him by the arm,--

"Shout with me, or I'll break thy neck: Christians to the lions!" But
the arbiter's nerves had had enough of those shouts. From the time that
he had left the Palatine they had been stifling him like a nightmare,
and rending his ears. So when he saw the fist of the giant above him,
the measure of his patience was exceeded.

"Friend," said he, "thou hint the smell of wine, and art stopping my
way."

Thus speaking, he drove into the man's breast to the hilt the short
sword which he had brought from home; then, taking the arm of Vinicius,
he continued as if nothing had happened,--

"Cæsar said to-day, 'Tell Vinicius from me to be at the games in which
Christians will appear.' Dost understand what that means? They wish to
make a spectacle of thy pain. That is a settled affair. Perhaps that is
why thou and I are not imprisoned yet. If thou art not able to get her
at once--I do not know--Acte might take thy part; but can she effect
anything? Thy Sicilian lands, too, might tempt Tigellinus. Make the
trial."

"I will give him all that I have," answered Vinicius.

From the Carinæ to the Forum was not very far; hence they arrived soon.
The night had begun to pale, and the walls of the castle came out
definitely from the shadow.

Suddenly, as they turned toward the Mamertine prison, Petronius stopped,
and said,-

"Pretorians! Too late!"

In fact the prison was surrounded by a double rank of soldiers. The
morning dawn was silvering their helmets and the points of their
javelins.

Vinicius grew as pale as marble. "Let us go on," said he.

After a while they halted before the line. Gifted with an uncommon
memory, Petronius knew not only the officers, but nearly all the
pretorian soldiers. Soon he saw an acquaintance, a leader of a cohort,
and nodded to him.

"But what is this, Niger?" asked he; "are ye commanded to watch the
prison?"

"Yes, noble Petronius. The prefect feared lest they might try to rescue
the incendiaries."

"Have ye the order to admit no one?" inquired Vinicius.

"We have not; acquaintances will visit the prisoners, and in that way we
shall seize more Christians."

"Then let me in," said Vinicius; and pressing Petronius's hand, he said,
"See Acte, I will come to learn her answer."

"Come," responded Petronius.

At that moment under the ground and beyond the thick walls was heard
singing. The hymn, at first low and muffled, rose more and more. The
voices of men, women, and children were mingled in one harmonious
chorus. The whole prison began to sound, in the calmness of dawn, like
a harp. But those were not voices of sorrow or despair; on the
contrary, gladness and triumph were heard in them.

The soldiers looked at one another with amazement. The first golden and
rosy gleams of the morning appeared in the sky.