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Quo Vadis, by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER XLVIII

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_ CAMPS of people were disposed in the lordly gardens of Caesar,
formerly gardens of Domitius and Agrippina; they were disposed
also on the Campus Martius, in the gardens of Pompey, Sallust,
and MRcenas, in porticos, tennis-courts, splendid summer-houses,
and buildings erected for wild beasts. Peacocks, flamingoes,
swans, ostriches, gazelles, African antelopes, and deer, which had
served as ornaments to those gardens, went under the knives of the
rabble. Provisions began to come in now from Ostria so
abundantly that one might walk, as on a bridge, over ships, boats,
and barges from one bank of the Tiber to the other. Wheat was
sold at the unheard-of low price of three sestertia, and was given
gratis to the indigent. Immense supplies of wine, olives, and
chestnuts were brought to the city; sheep and cattle were driven in
every day from the mountains. Wretches who before the fire had
been hiding in alleys of the Subura, and were perishing of hunger
in ordinary times, had a more pleasant life now. The danger of
famine was averted completely, but it was more difficult to
suppress robbery, murder, and abuses. A nomadic life insured
impunity to thieves; the more easily since they proclaimed
themselves admirers of Caesar, and were unsparing of plaudits
wherever he appeared. Moreover, when, by the pressure of events,
the authorities were in abeyance, and there was a lack of armed
force to quell insolence in a city inhabited by the dregs of
contemporary mankind, deeds were done which passed human
imagination. Every night there were battles and murders; every
night boys and women were snatched away. At the Porta
Mugionis, where there was a halting-place for herds driven in from
the Campania, it come to engagements in which people perished
by hundreds. Every morning the banks of the Tiber were covered
with drowned bodies, which no one collected; these decayed
quickly because of heat heightened by fire, and filled the air with
foul odors. Sickness broke out on the camping-grounds, and the
more timorous foresaw a great pestilence.

But the city burned on unceasingly. Only on the sixth day, when
the fire reached empty spaces on the Esquiline, where an
enormous number of houses had been demolished purposely, did it
weaken. But the piles of burning cinders gave such strong light yet
that people would not believe that the end of the catastrophe had
come. In fact the fire burst forth with fresh force on the seventh
night in the buildings of Tigellinus, but had short duration for lack
of fuel. Burnt houses, however, fell here and there, and threw up
towers of flame and pillars of sparks. But the glowing ruins began
to grow black on the surface. After sunset the heavens ceased to
gleam with bloody light, and only after dark did blue tongues
quiver above the extended black waste, tongues which rose from
piles of cinders.

Of the fourteen divisions of Rome there remained only four,
including the Trans-Tiber. Flames had consumed all the others.
When at last the piles of cinders had been turned into ashes, an
immense space was visible from the Tiber to the Esquiline, gray,
gloomy, dead. In this space stood rows of chimneys, like columns
over graves in a cemetery. Among these columns gloomy crowds
of people moved about in the daytime, some seeking for precious
objects, others f or the bones of those dear to them. In the night
dogs howled above the ashes and ruins of former dwellings.

All the bounty and aid shown by Caesar to the populace did not
restrain evil speech and indignation. Only the herd of robbers,
criminals, and homeless ruffians, who could eat, drink, and rob
enough, were contented. People who had lost all their property and
their nearest relatives were not won over by the opening of
gardens, the distribution of bread, or the promise of games and
gifts. The catastrophe had been too great and unparalleled. Others,
in whom was hidden yet some spark of love for the city and their
birthplace, were brought to despair by news that the old name
"Roma" was to vanish, and that from the ashes of the capital
Caesar would erect a new city called Neropolis. A flood of hatred
rose and swelled every day, despite the flatteries of the Augustians
and the calumnies of Tigellinus. Nero, more sensitive than any
former Caesar to the favor of the populace, thought with alarm that
in the sullen and mortal struggle which be was waging with
patricians in the Senate, he might lack support. The Augustians
themselves were not less alarmed, for any morning might bring
them destruction. Tigellinus thought of summoning certain legions
from Asia Minor. Vatinius, who laughed even when slapped on the
face, lost his humor; Vitelius lost his appetite.

Others were taking counsel among themselves how to avert the
danger, for it was no secret that were an outburst to carry off
Caesar, not one of the Augustians would escape, except, perhaps,
Petronius. To their influence were ascribed the madnesses of Nero,
to their suggestions all the crimes which he committed. Hatred for
them almost surpassed that for Nero. Hence some began to make
efforts to rid themselves of responsibility for the burning of the
city. But to free themselves they must clear Caesar also from
suspicion, or no one would believe that they had not caused the
catastrophe. Tigellinus took counsel on this subject with Domitius
Afer, and even with Seneca, though he hated him. Poppaea, who
understood that the ruin of Nero would be her own sentence, took
the opinion of her confidants and of Hebrew priests, for it had
been admitted for years that she held the faith of Jehovah. Nero
found his own methods, which, frequently terrible, were more
frequently foolish, and fell now into terror, now into childish
delight, but above all he complained.

On a time a long and fruitless consultation was held in the house
of Tiberius, which had survived the fire. Petronius thought it best
to leave troubles, go to Greece, thence to Egypt and Asia Minor.
The journey had been planned long before; why defer it, when in
Rome were sadness and danger?

Caesar accepted the counsel with eagerness; but Seneca when he
had thought awhile, said, --

"It is easy to go, but it would be more difficult to return."

"By Heracles!" replied Petronius, "we may return at the head of
Asiatic legions."

"This will I do!" exclaimed Nero.

But Tigelilinus opposed. He could discover nothing himself, and if
the arbiter's idea had come to his own head he would beyond doubt
have declared it the saving one; but with him the question was that
Petronius might not be a second time the only man who in difficult
moments could rescue all and every one.

"Hear me, divinity," said he, "this advice is destructive! Before
thou art at Ostia a civil war will break out; who knows but one of
the surviving collateral descendants of the divine Augustus will
declare himself Caesar, and what shall we do if the legions take his
side?"

"We shall try," answered Nero, "that there be no descendants of
Augustus. There are not many now; hence it is easy to rid
ourselves of them."

"It is possible to do so, but is it a question of them alone? No
longer ago than yesterday my people heard in the crowd that a man
like Thrasea should be Caesar."

Nero bit his lips. After a while he raised his eyes and said:
"Insatiable and thankless. They have grain enough, and they have
coal on which to bake cakes; what more do they want?"

"Vengeance!" replied Tigellinus.

Silence followed. Caesar rose on a sudden, extended his hand, and
began to declaim, --

"Hearts call for vengeance, and vengeance wants a victim." Then,
forgetting everything, he said, with radiant face: "Give me the
tablet and stilus to write this line. Never could Lucan have
composed the like. Have ye noticed that I found it in a twinkle?"

"O incomparable!" exclaimed a number of voices. Nero wrote
down the line, and said, --

"Yes, vengeance wants a victim." Then he cast a glance on those
around him. "But if we spread the report that Vatinius gave
command to burn the city, and devote him to the anger of the
people?"

"O divinity! Who am I?" exclaimed Vatmius.

"True! One more important than thou is demanded. Is it Vitehius?"

Vitelius grew pale, but began to laugh.

"My fat," answered he, "might start the fire again."

But Nero had something else on his mind; in his soul he was
looking for' a victim who might really satisfy the people's anger,
and he found him.

"Tigellinus," said he after a while, "it was thou who didst burn
Rome!" A shiver ran through those present. They understood that
Caesar had ceased to jest this time, and that a moment had come
which was pregnant with events.

The face of Tigellinus was wrinkled, like the lips of a dog about to
bite.

"I burnt Rome at thy command!" said he.

And the two glared at each other like a pair of devils. Such silence
followed that the buzzing of flies was heard as they flew through
the atrium.

"Tigellinus," said Nero, "dost thou love me?"

"Thou knowest, lord."

"Sacrifice thyself for me."

"O divine Caesar," answered Tigellinus, "why present the sweet
cup which I may not raise to my lips? The people are muttering
and rising; dost thou wish the pretorians also to rise?"

A feeling of terror pressed the hearts of those present. Tigellinus
was pretorian prefect, and his words had the direct meaning of a
threat. Nero himself understood this, and his face became pallid.

At that moment Epaphroditus, Caesar's freedman, entered,
announcing that the divine Augusta wished to see Tigellinus, as
there were people in her apartments whom the prefect ought to
hear.

Tigellinus bowed to Caesar, and went out with a face calm and
contemptuous. Now, when they had wished to strike him, he had
shown his teeth; he had made them understand who he was, and,
knowing Nero's cowardice, he was confident that that ruler of the
world would never dare to raise a hand against him.

Nero sat in silence for a moment; then, seeing that those present
expected some answer, he said, --

"I have reared a serpent in my bosom."

Petronius shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that it was not
difficult to pluck the head from such a serpent.

"What wilt thou say? Speak, advise!" exclaimed Nero, noticing this
motion. "I trust in thee alone, for thou hast more sense than all of
them, and thou lovest me."

Petronius had the following on his lips: "Make me pretorian
prefect, I will deliver Tigellinus to the people, and pacify the city
in a day." But his innate slothfulness prevailed. To be prefect
meant to bear on his shoulder's Caesar's person and also thousands
of public affairs. And why should he perform that labor? Was it
not better to read poetry in his splendid library, look at vases and
statues, or hold to his breast the divine body of Eunice, twining her
golden hair through his fingers, and inclining his lips to her coral
mouth? Hence he said, --

"I advise the journey to Achaea."

"Ah!" answered Nero, "I looked for something more from thee.
The Senate hates me. If I depart, who will guarantee that it will not
revolt and proclaim some one else Caesar? The people have been
faithful to me so far, but now they will follow the Senate. By
Hades! if that Senate and that people had one head! --"

"Permit me to say, O divinity, that if thou desire to save Rome,
there is need to save even a few Romans," remarked Petronius,
with a smile.

"What care I for Rome and Romans?" complained Nero. "I should
be obeyed in Achaeca. Here only treason surrounds me. All desert
me, and ye are making ready for treason. I know it, I know it. Ye
do not even imagine what future ages will say of you if ye desert
such an artist as I am."

Here he tapped his forehead on a sudden, and cried, --

"True! Amid these cares even I forget who I am."

Then he turned to Petronius with a radiant face.

"Petronius," said he, "the people murmur; but if I take my lute and
go to the Campus Martius, if I sing that song to them which I sang
during the conflagration, dost thou not think that I will move them,
as Orpheus moved wild beasts?"

To this Tullius Senecio, who was impatient to return to his slave
women brought in from Antium, and who had been impatient a
long time, replied, --

"Beyond doubt, O Caesar, if they permit thee to begin."

"Let us go to Hellas!" cried Nero, with disgust.

But at that moment Poppaea appeared, and with her Tigellimis.
The eyes of those present turned to him unconsciously, for never
had triumphator ascended the Capitol with pride such as his when
he stood before Caesar. He began to speak slowly and with
emphasis, in tones through which the bite of iron, as it were, was
heard, --

"Listen. O Caesar, for I can say: I have found! The people want
vengeance, they want not one victim, but hundreds, thousands.
Hast heard, lord, who Christos was, -- he who was crucified by
Pontius Pilate? And knowest thou who the Christians are? Have I
not told thee of their crimes and foul ceremonies, of their
predictions that fire would cause the end of the world? People hate
and suspect them. No one has seen them in a temple at any time,
for they consider our gods evil spirits; they are not in the Stadium,
for they despise horse races. Never have the hands of a Christian
done thee honor with plaudits. Never has one of them recognized
thee as god. They are enemies of the human race, of the city, and
of thee. The people murmur against thee; but thou hast given me
no command to burn Rome, and I did not burn it. The people want
vengeance; let them have it. The people want blood and games; let
them have them. The people suspect thee; let their suspicion turn
in another direction."

Nero listened with amazement at first; but as Tigellinus proceeded,
his actor's face changed, and assumed in succession expressions of
anger, sorrow, sympathy, indignation. Suddenly he rose, and,
casting off the toga, which dropped at his feet, he raised both
hands and stood silent for a time. At last he said, in the tones of a
tragedian, --

"O Zeus, Apollo, Here, Athene, Perseaehone, and all ye immortals!
why did ye not come to aid us? What has this hapless city done to
those cruel wretches that they burnt it so inhumanly?"

"They are enemies of mankind and of thee," said Poppaea.

"Do justice!" cried others. "Punish the incendiaries! The gods
themselves call for vengeance!"

Nero sat down, dropped his head to his breast, and was silent a
second time, as if stunned by the wickedness of which he had
heard. But after a while he shook his hands, and said, --

"What punishments, what tortures befit such a crime? But the gods
will inspire me, and, aided by the powers of Tartarus, I will give
my poor people such a spectacle that they will remember me for
ages with gratitude."

The forehead of Petronius was covered with a sudden cloud. He
thought of the danger hanging over Lygia and over Vinicius, whom
he loved, and over all those people whose religion he rejected, but
of whose innocence he was certain. He thought also that one of
those bloody orgies would begin which his eyes, those of an
aesthetic man, could not suffer. But above all he thought:

"I must save Vinicius, who will go mad if that maiden perishes";
and this consideration outweighed every other, for Petronius
understood well that he was beginning a game far more perilous
than any in his life. He began, however, to speak freely and
carelessly, as his wont was when criticising or ridiculing plans of
Caesar and the Augustians that were not sufficiently aesthetic,

"Ye have found victims! That is true. Ye may send them to the
arena, or array them in 'painful tunics.' That is true also. But hear
me! Ye have authority, ye have pretorians, ye have power; then be
sincere, at least, when no one is listening! Deceive the people, but
deceive not one another. Give the Christians to the populace,
condemn them to any torture ye like; but have courage to say to
yourselves that it was not they who burnt Rome. Phy! Ye call me
'arbiter elegantiarum'; hence I declare to you that I cannot endure
wretched comedies! Phy! how all this reminds me of the theatrical
booths near the Porta Asinaria, in which actors play the parts of
gods and kings to amuse the suburban rabble, and when the play is
over wash down onions with sour wine, or get blows of clubs! Be
gods and kings in reality; for I say that ye can permit yourselves
the position! As to thee, O Caesar, thou hast threatened us with the
sentence of coming ages; but think, those ages will utter judgment
concerning thee also. By the divine Clio! Nero, ruler of the world,
Nero, a god, burnt Rome, because he was as powerful on earth as
Zeus on Olympus, -- Nero the poet loved poetry so much that he
sacrificed to it his country! From the beginning of the world no
one did the like, no one ventured on thae like. I beseech thee in the
name of the double-crowned Libethrides, renounce not such glory,
for songs of thee will sound to the end of ages! What will Priam be
when compared with thee; what Agamenmon; what Achilles; what
the gods themselves? We need not say that the burning of Rome
was good, but it was colossal and uncommon. I tell thee, besides,
that the people will raise no hand against thee! It is not true that
they will. Have courage; guard thyself against acts unworthy of
thee, -- for this alone threatens thee, that future ages may say,
'Nero burned Rome; but as a timid Caesar and a timid poet he
denied the great deed out of fear, and cast the blame of it on the
innocent!'"

The arbiter's words produced the usual deep impression on Nero;
but Petronius was not deceived as to this, that what he had said
was a desperate means which in a fortunate event might save the
Christians, it is true, but might still more easily destroy himself.
He had not hesitated, however, for it was a question at once of
Vinicius whom he loved, and of hazard with which he amused
himself. "The dice are thrown," said he to himself, "and we shall
see how far fear for his own life outweighs in the monkey his love
of glory."

And in his soul he had no doubt that fear would outweigh.

Meanwhile silence fell after his words. Poppaea and all present
were looking at Nero's eyes as at a rainbow. He began to raise his
lips, drawing them to his very nostrils, as was his custom when he
knew not what to do; at last disgust and trouble were evident on
his features.

"Lord," cried Tigellinus, on noting this, "permit me to go; for when
people wish to expose thy person to destruction, and call thee,
besides, a cowardly Caesar, a cowardly poet, an incendiary, and a
comedian, my ears cannot suffer such expressions!"

"I have lost," thought Petronius. But turning to Tigellinus, he
measured him with a glance in which was that contempt for a
ruffian which is felt by a great lord who is an exquisite.

"Tigellinus," said he, "it was thou whom I called a comedian; for
thou art one at this very moment."

"Is it because I will not listen to thy insults?"

"It is because thou art feigning boundless love for Caesar, -- thou
who a short while since wert threatening him with pretorians,
which we all understood as did he!"

Tigellinus, who had not thought Petronius sufficiently daring to
throw dice such as those on the table, turned pale, lost his head,
and was speechless. This was, however, the last victory of the
arbiter over his rival, for that moment Poppaea said, --

"Lord, how permit that such a thought should even pass through
the head of any one, and all the more that any one should venture
to express it aloud in thy presence!"

"Punish the insolent!" exclaimed Vitelius.

Nero raised his lips again to his nostrils, and, turning his
near-sighted, 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 Vitelius.

"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 Caesarae "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. _

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