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health, inform me of thy love, know how to love, teach

how to love, and farewell.”

 

VINICIUS to PETRONIUS:

 

“Lygia is not found yet! Were it not for the hope that I shall find her

soon, thou wouldst not receive an answer; for when a man is disgusted

with life, he has no wish to write letters. I wanted to learn whether

Chilo was not deceiving me; and at night when he came to get the money

for Euricius, I threw on a military mantle, and unobserved followed him

and the slave whom I sent with him. When they reached the place, I

watched from a distance, hidden behind a portico pillar, and convinced

myself that Euricius was not invented. Below, a number of tens of

people were unloading stones from a spacious barge, and piling them up

on the bank. I saw Chilo approach them, and begin to talk with some old

man, who after a while fell at his feet. Others surrounded them with

shouts of admiration. Before my eyes the boy gave a purse to Euricius,

who on seizing it began to pray with upraised hands, while at his side

some second person was kneeling, evidently his son. Chilo said

something which I could not hear, and blessed the two who were kneeling,

as well as others, making in the air signs in the form of a cross, which

they honor apparently, for all bent their knees. The desire seized me

to go among them, and promise three such purses to him who would deliver

to me Lygia; but I feared to spoil Chilo’s work, and after hesitating a

moment went home.

 

“This happened at least twelve days after thy departure. Since then

Chilo has been a number of times with me. He says that he has gained

great significance among the Christians; that if he has not found Lygia

so far, it is because the Christians in Rome are innumerable, hence all

are not acquainted with each person in their community, and cannot know

everything that is done in it. They are cautious, too, and in general

reticent. He gives assurance, however, that when he reaches the elders,

who are called presbyters, he will learn every secret. He has made the

acquaintance of a number of these already, and has begun to inquire of

them, though carefully, so as not to rouse suspicion by haste, and not

to make the work still more difficult. Though it is hard to wait,

though patience fails, I feel that he is right, and I wait.

 

“He learned, too, that they have places of meeting for prayer,

frequently outside the city, in empty houses and even in sand-pits. There

they worship Christ, sing hymns, and have feasts. There are many such

places. Chilo supposes that Lygia goes purposely to different ones from

Pomponia, so that the latter, in case of legal proceedings or an

examination, might swear boldly that she knew nothing of Lygia’s hiding

place. It may be that the presbyters have advised caution. When Chilo

discovers those places, I will go with him; and if the gods let me see

Lygia, I swear to thee by Jupiter that she will not escape my hands this

time.

 

“I am thinking continually of those places of prayer. Chilo is

unwilling that I should go with him; he is afraid. But I cannot stay at

home. I should know her at once, even in disguise or if veiled. They

assemble in the night, but I should recognize her in the night even. I

should know her voice and motions anywhere. I will go myself in

disguise, and look at every person who goes in or out. I am thinking of

her always, and shall recognize her. Chilo is to come tomorrow, and we

shall go. I will take arms. Some of my slaves sent to the provinces

have returned empty-handed. But I am certain now that she is in the

city, perhaps not far away even. I myself have visited many houses

under pretext of renting them. She will fare better with me a hundred

times; where she is, whole legions of poor people dwell. Besides, I

shall spare nothing for her sake. Thou writest that I have chosen well.

I have chosen suffering and sorrow. We shall go first to those houses

which are in the city, then beyond the gates. Hope looks for something

every morning, otherwise life would be impossible. Thou sayest that one

should know how to love. I knew how to talk of love to Lygia. But now

I only yearn; I do nothing but wait for Chilo. Life to me is

unendurable in my own house. Farewell!”

Chapter XVI

BUT Chilo did not appear for some time, and Vinicius knew not at last

what to think of his absence. In vain he repeated to himself that

searching, if continued to a certain and successful issue, must be

gradual. His blood and impulsive nature rebelled against the voice of

judgment. To do nothing, to wait, to sit with folded arms, was so

repulsive to him that he could not be reconciled to it in any way. To

search the alleys of the city in the dark garb of a slave, through this

alone, that it was useless, seemed to him merely a mask for his own

inefficiency, and could give no satisfaction. His freedmen, persons of

experience, whom he commanded to search independently, turned out a

hundred times less expert than Chilo. Meanwhile there rose in him,

besides his love for Lygia, the stubbornness of a player resolved to

win. Vinicius had been always a person of this kind. From earliest

youth he had accomplished what he desired with the passionateness of one

who does not understand failure, or the need of yielding something. For

a time military discipline had put his self-will within bounds, but also

it had engrafted into him the conviction that every command of his to

subordinates must be fulfilled; his prolonged stay in the Orient, among

people pliant and inured to slavish obedience, confirmed in him the

faith that for his “I wish” there were no limits. At present his

vanity, too, was wounded painfully. There was, besides, in Lygia’s

opposition and resistance, and in her flight itself, which was to him

incomprehensible, a kind of riddle. In trying to solve this riddle he

racked his head terribly. He felt that Acte had told the truth, and

that Lygia was not indifferent. But if this were true, why had she

preferred wandering and misery to his love, his tenderness, and a

residence in his splendid mansion? To this question he found no answer,

and arrived only at a kind of dim understanding that between him and

Lygia, between their ideas, between the world which belonged to him and

Petronius, and the world of Lygia and Pomponia, there existed some sort

of difference, some kind of misunderstanding as deep as an abyss, which

nothing could fill up or make even. It seemed to him, then, that he

must lose Lygia; and at this thought he lost the remnant of balance

which Petronius wished to preserve in him. There were moments in which

he did not know whether he loved Lygia or hated her; he understood only

that he must find her, and he would rather that the earth swallowed her

than that he should not see and possess her. By the power of

imagination he saw her as clearly at times as if she had been before his

face. He recalled every word which he had spoken to her; every word

which he had heard from her. He felt her near; felt her on his bosom,

in his arms; and then desire embraced him like a flame. He loved her

and called to her.

 

And when he thought that he was loved, that she might do with

willingness all that he wished of her, sore and endless sorrow seized

him, and a kind of deep tenderness flooded his heart, like a mighty

wave. But there were moments, too, in which he grew pale from rage, and

delighted in thoughts of the humiliation and tortures which he would

inflict on Lygia when he found her. He wanted not only to have her, but

to have her as a trampled slave. At the same time he felt that if the

choice were left him, to be her slave or not to see her in life again,

he would rather be her slave. There were days in which he thought of the

marks which the lash would leave on her rosy body, and at the same time

he wanted to kiss those marks. It came to his head also that he would

be happy if he could kill her.

 

In this torture, torment, uncertainty, and suffering, he lost health,

and even beauty. He became a cruel and incomprehensible master. His

slaves, and even his freedmen, approached him with trembling; and when

punishments fell on them causelessly,—punishments as merciless as

undeserved,—they began to hate him in secret; while he, feeling this,

and feeling his own isolation, took revenge all the more on them. He

restrained himself with Chilo alone, fearing lest he might cease his

searches; the Greek, noting this, began to gain control of him, and grew

more and more exacting. At first he assured Vinicius at each visit that

the affair would proceed easily and quickly; now he began to discover

difficulties, and without ceasing, it is true, to guarantee the

undoubted success of the searches, he did not hide the fact that they

must continue yet for a good while.

 

At last he came, after long days of waiting, with a face so gloomy that

the young man grew pale at sight of him, and springing up had barely

strength to ask,—“Is she not among the Christians?” “She is, lord,”

answered Chilo; “but I found Glaucus among them.” “Of what art thou

speaking, and who is Glaucus?” “Thou hast forgotten, lord, it seems,

that old man with whom I journeyed from Naples to Rome, and in whose

defence I lost these two fingers,—a loss which prevents me from

writing. Robbers, who bore away his wife and child, stabbed him with a

knife. I left him dying at an inn in Minturna, and bewailed him long.

Alas! I have convinced myself that he is alive yet, and belongs in Rome

to the Christian community.”

 

Vinicius, who could not understand what the question was, understood

only that Glaucus was becoming a hindrance to the discovery of Lygia;

hence he suppressed his rising anger, and said,—“If thou didst defend

him, he should be thankful and help thee.”

 

“Ah! worthy tribune, even gods are not always grateful, and what must

the case be with men? True, he should be thankful. But, unhappily, he

is an old man, of a mind weak and darkened by age and disappointment;

for which reason, not only is he not grateful, but, as I learned from

his co-religionists, he accuses me of having conspired with the robbers,

and says that I am the cause of his misfortunes. That is the recompense

for my fingers!”

 

“Scoundrel! I am certain that it was as he says,” replied Vinicius.

 

“Then thou knowest more than he does, lord, for he only surmises that it

was so; which, however, would not prevent him from summoning the

Christians, and from revenging himself on me cruelly. He would have

done that undoubtedly, and others, with equal certainty, would have

helped him; but fortunately he does not know my name, and in the house

of prayer where we met, he did not notice me. I, however, knew him at

once, and at the first moment wished to throw myself on his neck.

Wisdom, however, and the habit of thinking before every step which I

intend to take, restrained me. Therefore, on issuing from the house

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