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

on meeting them in the amphitheater he would be attacked by thoughts unworthy of a Christian, whose duty it was to die piously and patiently. But in this he committed himself to Christ, and found other and more agreeable thoughts to comfort him. Hearing that the “Lamb” had declared war against the powers of hell and evil spirits with which the Christian faith connected all pagan divinities, he thought that in this war he might serve the “Lamb” greatly, and serve better than others, for he could not help believing that his soul was stronger than the souls of other martyrs. Finally, he prayed whole days, rendered service to prisoners, helped overseers, and comforted his queen, who complained at times that in her short life she had not been able to do so many good deeds as the renowned Tabitha of whom Peter the Apostle had told her. Even the prison guards, who feared the terrible strength of this giant, since neither bars nor chains could restrain it, came to love him at last for his mildness. Amazed at his good temper, they asked more than once what its cause was. He spoke with such firm certainty of the life waiting after death for him, that they listened with surprise, seeing for the first time that happiness might penetrate a dungeon which sunlight could not reach. And when he urged them to believe in the “Lamb,” it occurred to more than one of those people that his own service was the service of a slave, his own life the life of an unfortunate; and he fell to thinking over his evil fate, the only end to which was death.

But death brought new fear, and promised nothing beyond; while that giant and that maiden, who was like a flower cast on the straw of the prison, went toward it with delight, as toward the gates of happiness.

LXIV

One evening Scevinus, a Senator, visited Petronius and began a long conversation, touching the grievous times in which they were living, and also touching Caesar. He spoke so openly that Petronius, though his friend, began to be cautious. Scevinus complained that the world was living madly and unjustly, that all must end in some catastrophe more dreadful still than the burning of Rome. He said that even Augustians were dissatisfied; that Faenius Rufus, second prefect of the pretorians, endured with the greatest effort the vile orders of Tigellinus; and that all Seneca’s relatives were driven to extremes by Caesar’s conduct as well toward his old master as toward Lucan. Finally, he began to hint of the dissatisfaction of the people, and even of the pretorians, the greater part of whom had been won by Faenius Rufus.

“Why dost thou say this?” inquired Petronius.

“Out of care for Caesar,” said Scevinus. “I have a distant relative among the pretorians, also Scevinus; through him I know what takes place in the camp. Disaffection is growing there also; Caligula, knowest thou, was mad too, and see what happened. Cassius Chaerea appeared. That was a dreadful deed, and surely there is no one among us to praise it; still Chaerea freed the world of a monster.”

“Is thy meaning as follows: ‘I do not praise Chaerea, but he was a perfect man, and would that the gods had given us as many such as possible’?” inquired Petronius.

But Scevinus changed the conversation, and began all at once to praise Piso, exalting his family, his nobility of mind, his attachment to his wife, and, finally, his intellect, his calmness, and his wonderful gift of winning people.

“Caesar is childless,” said he, “and all see his successor in Piso. Doubtless, too, every man would help him with whole soul to gain power. Faenius Rufus loves him; the relatives of Annaeus are devoted to him altogether. Plautius Lateranus and Tullius Senecio would spring into fire for him; as would Natalis, and Subrius Flavus, and Sulpicius Asper, and Afranius Quinetianus, and even Vestinius.”

“From this last man not much will result to Piso,” replied Petronius. “Vestinius is afraid of his own shadow.”

“Vestinius fears dreams and spirits,” answered Scevinus, “but he is a practical man, whom people wish wisely to make consul. That in his soul he is opposed to persecuting Christians, thou shouldst not take ill of him, for it concerns thee too that this madness should cease.”

“Not me, but Vinicius,” answered Petronius. “Out of concern for Vinicius, I should like to save a certain maiden; but I cannot, for I have fallen out of favor with Ahenobarbus.”

“How is that? Dost thou not notice that Caesar is approaching thee again, and beginning to talk with thee? And I will tell thee why. He is preparing again for Achaea, where he is to sing songs in Greek of his own composition. He is burning for that journey; but also he trembles at thought of the cynical genius of the Greeks. He imagines that either the greatest triumph may meet him or the greatest failure. He needs good counsel, and he knows that no one can give it better than thou. This is why thou art returning to favor.”

“Lucan might take my place.”

“Bronzebeard hates Lucan, and in his soul has written down death for the poet. He is merely seeking a pretext, for he seeks pretexts always.”

“By Castor!” said Petronius, “that may be. But I might have still another way for a quick return to favor.”

“What?”

“To repeat to Bronzebeard what thou hast told me just now.”

“I have said nothing!” cried Scevinus, with alarm.

Petronius placed his hand upon the Senator’s shoulder. “Thou hast called Caesar a madman, thou hast foreseen the heirship of Piso, and hast said, ‘Lucan understands that there is need to hasten.’ What wouldst thou hasten, carissime?”

Scevinus grew pale, and for a moment each looked into the eyes of the other.

“Thou wilt not repeat!”

“By the hips of Cypris, I will not! How well thou knowest me! No; I will not repeat. I have heard nothing, and, moreover, I wish to hear