Quo Vadis. Henryk Sienkiewicz

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СКАЧАТЬ light. In the triclinium a table was laid for four persons. At the feast were to sit, besides Vinicius and Lygia, Petronius and Chrysothemis. Vinicius had followed in everything the words of Petronius, who advised him not to go for Lygia, but to send Atacinus with the permission obtained from Cæsar, to receive her himself in the house, receive her with friendliness and even with marks of honor.

      “Thou wert drunk yesterday,” said he; “I saw thee. Thou didst act with her like a quarryman from the Alban Hills. Be not over-insistent, and remember that one should drink good wine slowly. Know too that it is sweet to desire, but sweeter to be desired.”

      Chrysothemis had her own and a somewhat different opinion on this point; but Petronius, calling her his vestal and his dove, began to explain the difference which must exist between a trained charioteer of the Circus and the youth who sits on the quadriga for the first time. Then, turning to Vinicius, he continued—“Win her confidence, make her joyful, be magnanimous. I have no wish to see a gloomy feast. Swear to her, by Hades even, that thou wilt return her to Pomponia, and it will be thy affair that to-morrow she prefers to stay with thee.”

      Then pointing to Chrysothemis, he added—“For five years I have acted thus more or less with this timid dove, and I cannot complain of her harshness.”

      Chrysothemis struck him with her fan of peacock feathers, and said—“But I did not resist, thou satyr!”

      “Out of consideration for my predecessor—”

      “But wert thou not at my feet?”

      “Yes; to put rings on thy toes.”

      Chrysothemis looked involuntarily at her feet, on the toes of which diamonds were really glittering; and she and Petronius began to laugh. But Vinicius did not give ear to their bantering. His heart was beating unquietly under the robes of a Syrian priest, in which he had arrayed himself to receive Lygia.

      “They must have left the palace,” said he, as if in a monologue.

      “They must,” answered Petronius. “Meanwhile I may mention the predictions of Apollonius of Tyana, or that history of Rufinus which I have not finished, I do not remember why.”

      But Vinicius cared no more for Apollonius of Tyana than for the history of Rufinus. His mind was with Lygia; and though he felt that it was more appropriate to receive her at home than to go in the rôle of a myrmidon to the palace, he was sorry at moments that he had not gone, for the single reason that he might have seen her sooner, and sat near her in the dark, in the double litter.

      Meanwhile slaves brought in a tripod ornamented with rams’ heads, bronze dishes with coals, on which they sprinkled bits of myrrh and nard.

      “Now they are turning toward the Carinæ,” said Vinicius, again.

      “He cannot wait; he will run to meet the litter, and is likely to miss them!” exclaimed Chrysothemis.

      Vinicius smiled without thinking, and said—“On the contrary, I will wait.”

      But he distended his nostrils and panted; seeing which, Petronius shrugged his shoulders, and said—“There is not in him a philosopher to the value of one sestertium, and I shall never make a man of that son of Mars.”

      “They are now in the Carinæ.”

      In fact, they were turning toward the Carinæ. The slaves called lampadarii were in front; others called pedisequii, were on both sides of the litter. Atacinus was right behind, overseeing the advance. But they moved slowly, for lamps showed the way badly in a place not lighted at all. The streets near the palace were empty; here and there only some man moved forward with a lantern, but farther on the place was uncommonly crowded. From almost every alley people were pushing out in threes and fours, all without lamps, all in dark mantles. Some walked on with the procession, mingling with the slaves; others in greater numbers came from the opposite direction. Some staggered as if drunk. At moments the advance grew so difficult that the lampadarii cried—“Give way to the noble tribune, Marcus Vinicius!”

      Lygia saw those dark crowds through the curtains which were pushed aside, and trembled with emotion. She was carried away at one moment by hope, at another by fear.

      “That is he!—that is Ursus and the Christians! Now it will happen quickly,” said she, with trembling lips. “O Christ, aid! O Christ, save!”

      Atacinus himself, who at first did not notice the uncommon animation of the street, began at last to be alarmed. There was something strange in this. The lampadarii had to cry oftener and oftener, “Give way to the litter of the noble tribune!” From the sides unknown people crowded up to the litter so much that Atacinus commanded the slaves to repulse them with clubs.

      Suddenly a cry was heard in front of the procession. In one instant all the lights were extinguished. Around the litter came a rush, an uproar, a struggle.

      Atacinus saw that this was simply an attack; and when he saw it he was frightened. It was known to all that Cæsar with a crowd of attendants made attacks frequently for amusement in the Subura and in other parts of the city. It was known that even at times he brought out of these night adventures black and blue spots; but whoso defended himself went to his death, even if a senator. The house of the guards, whose duty it was to watch over the city, was not very far; but during such attacks the guards feigned to be deaf and blind.

      Meanwhile there was an uproar around the litter; people struck, struggled, threw, and trampled one another. The thought flashed on Atacinus to save Lygia and himself, above all, and leave the rest to their fate. So, drawing her out of the litter, he took her in his arms and strove to escape in the darkness.

      But Lygia called, “Ursus! Ursus!”

      She was dressed in white; hence it was easy to see her. Atacinus, with his other arm, which was free, was throwing his own mantle over her hastily, when terrible claws seized his neck, and on his head a gigantic, crushing mass fell like a stone.

      He dropped in one instant, as an ox felled by the back of an axe before the altar of Jove.

      The slaves for the greater part were either lying on the ground, or had saved themselves by scattering in the thick darkness, around the turns of the walls. On the spot remained only the litter, broken in the onset. Ursus bore away Lygia to the Subura; his comrades followed him, dispersing gradually along the way.

      The slaves assembled before the house of Vinicius, and took counsel. They had not courage to enter. After a short deliberation they returned to the place of conflict, where they found a few corpses, and among them Atacinus. He was quivering yet; but, after a moment of more violent convulsion, he stretched and was motionless.

      They took him then, and, returning, stopped before the gate a second time. But they must declare to their lord what had happened.

      “Let Gulo declare it,” whispered some voices; “blood is flowing from his face as from ours; and the master loves him; it is safer for Gulo than for others.”

      Gulo, a German, an old slave, who had nursed Vinicius, and was inherited by him from his mother, the sister of Petronius, said—

      “I will tell him; but do ye all come. Do not let his anger fall on my head alone.”

      Vinicius was growing thoroughly impatient. Petronius and Chrysothemis were laughing; but he walked with quick step up and down the atrium.

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