Quo Vadis, Henryk Sienkiewicz [fox in socks read aloud .txt] 📗

nostrils, and, turning his nearsighted, glassy eyes on Petronius, said⁠—

“Is this the way thou payest me for the friendship which I had for thee?”

“If I am mistaken, show me my error,” said Petronius; “but know that I speak that which love for thee dictates.”

“Punish the insolent!” repeated Vitellius.

“Punish!” called a number of voices.

In the atrium there was a murmur and a movement, for people began to withdraw from Petronius. Even Tullius Senecio, his constant companion at the court, pushed away, as did young Nerva, who had shown him hitherto the greatest friendship. After a while Petronius was alone on the left side of the atrium, with a smile on his lips; and gathering with his hands the folds of his toga, he waited yet for what Caesar would say or do.

“Ye wish me to punish him,” said Caesar; “but he is my friend and comrade. Though he has wounded my heart, let him know that for friends this heart has naught but forgiveness.”

“I have lost, and am ruined,” thought Petronius.

Meanwhile Caesar rose, and the consultation was ended.

XLIX

Petronius went home. Nero and Tigellinus went to Poppaea’s atrium, where they were expected by people with whom the prefect had spoken already.

There were two Trans-Tiber rabbis in long solemn robes and mitered, a young copyist, their assistant, together with Chilo. At sight of Caesar the priests grew pale from emotion, and, raising their hands an arm’s length, bent their heads to his hands.

“Be greeted, O ruler of the earth, guardian of the chosen people, and Caesar, lion among men, whose reign is like sunlight, like the cedar of Lebanon, like a spring, like a palm, like the balsam of Jericho.”

“Do ye refuse to call me god?” inquired Nero.

The priests grew still paler. The chief one spoke again⁠—

“Thy words, O lord, are as sweet as a cluster of grapes, as a ripe fig⁠—for Jehovah filled thy heart with goodness! Thy father’s predecessor, Caesar Caius, was stern; still our envoys did not call him god, preferring death itself to violation of the law.”

“And did not Caligula give command to throw them to the lions?”

“No, lord; Caesar Caius feared Jehovah’s anger.”

And they raised their heads, for the name of the powerful Jehovah gave them courage; confident in his might, they looked into Nero’s eyes with more boldness.

“Do ye accuse the Christians of burning Rome?” inquired Caesar.

“We, lord, accuse them of this alone⁠—that they are enemies of the law, of the human race, of Rome, and of thee; that long since they have threatened the city and the world with fire! The rest will be told thee by this man, whose lips are unstained by a lie, for in his mother’s veins flowed the blood of the chosen people.”

Nero turned to Chilo: “Who art thou?”

“One who honors thee, O Cyrus; and, besides, a poor Stoic⁠—”

“I hate the Stoics,” said Nero. “I hate Thrasea; I hate Musonius and Cornutus. Their speech is repulsive to me; their contempt for art, their voluntary squalor and filth.”

“O lord, thy master Seneca has one thousand tables of citrus wood. At thy wish I will have twice as many. I am a Stoic from necessity. Dress my stoicism, O Radiant One, in a garland of roses, put a pitcher of wine before it; it will sing Anacreon in such strains as to deafen every Epicurean.”

Nero, who was pleased by the title “Radiant,” smiled and said, “Thou dost please me.”

“This man is worth his weight in gold!” cried Tigellinus.

“Put thy liberality with my weight,” answered Chilo, “or the wind will blow my reward away.”

“He would not outweigh Vitellius,” put in Caesar.

“Eheu! Silver-bowed, my wit is not of lead.”

“I see that thy faith does not hinder thee from calling me a god.”

“O Immortal! My faith is in thee; the Christians blaspheme against that faith, and I hate them.”

“What dost thou know of the Christians?”

“Wilt thou permit me to weep, O divinity?”

“No,” answered Nero; “weeping annoys me.”

“Thou art triply right, for eyes that have seen thee should be free of tears forever. O lord, defend me against my enemies.”

“Speak of the Christians,” said Poppaea, with a shade of impatience.

“It will be at thy command, O Isis,” answered Chilo. “From youth I devoted myself to philosophy, and sought truth. I sought it among the ancient divine sages, in the Academy at Athens, and in the Serapeum at Alexandria. When I heard of the Christians, I judged that they formed some new school in which I could find certain kernels of truth; and to my misfortune I made their acquaintance. The first Christian whom evil fate brought near me was one Glaucus, a physician of Naples. From him I learned in time that they worship a certain Chrestos, who promised to exterminate all people and destroy every city on earth, but to spare them if they helped him to exterminate the children of Deucalion. For this reason, O lady, they hate men, and poison fountains; for this reason in their assemblies they shower curses on Rome, and on all temples in which our gods are honored. Chrestos was crucified; but he promised that when Rome was destroyed by fire, he would come again and give Christians dominion over the world.”

“People will understand now why Rome was destroyed,” interrupted Tigellinus.

“Many understand that already, O lord, for I go about in the gardens, I go to the Campus Martius, and teach. But if ye listen to the end, ye will know my reasons for vengeance. Glaucus the physician did not reveal to me at first that their religion taught hatred. On the contrary, he told me that Chrestos was a good divinity, that the basis of their religion was love. My sensitive heart could not resist such a truth; hence I took to loving Glaucus, I trusted him, I shared every morsel of bread with him, every copper coin, and dost thou know, lady, how he repaid me? On the road from Naples to Rome he thrust a knife into my body,