Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (ebook reader macos TXT) 📕

AT last the hour was accomplished for both Apostles. But, as if to

complete his service, it was given to the fisherman of the Lord to win

two souls even in confinement. The soldiers, Processus and Martinianus,

who guarded him in the Mamertine prison, received baptism. Then came

the hour of torture. Nero was not in Rome at that time. Sentence was

passed by Helius and Polythetes, two freedmen to whom Cæsar had confided

the government of Rome during his absence.

On the aged Apostle had been inflicted the stripes prescribed by law;

and next day he was led forth beyond the walls of the city, toward the

Vatican Hill, where he was to suffer the punishment of the cross

assigned to him. Soldiers were astonished by the crowd which had

gathered before the prison, for in their minds the death of a common

man, and besides a foreigner, should not rouse such interest; they did

not understand that that retinue was composed not of sightseers, but

confessors, anxious to escort the great Apostle to the place of

execution. In the afternoon the gates of the prison were thrown open at

last, and Peter appeared in the midst of a detachment of pretorians.

The sun had inclined somewhat toward Ostia already; the day was clear

and calm. Because of his advanced age, Peter was not required to carry

the cross; it was supposed that he could not carry it; they had not put

the fork on his neck, either, so as not to retard his pace. He walked

without hindrance, and the faithful could see him perfectly.

At moments when his white head showed itself among the iron helmets of

the soldiers, weeping was heard in the crowd; but it was restrained

immediately, for the face of the old man had in it so much calmness, and

was so bright with joy, that all understood him to be not a victim going

to destruction, but a victor celebrating his triumph.

And thus it was really. The fisherman, usually humble and stooping,

walked now erect, taller than the soldiers, full of dignity. Never had

men seen such majesty in his bearing. It might have seemed that he was

a monarch attended by people and military. From every side voices were

raised,—

“There is Peter going to the Lord!”

All forgot, as it were, that torture and death were waiting for him. He

walked with solemn attention, but with calmness, feeling that since the

death on Golgotha nothing equally important had happened, and that as

the first death had redeemed the whole world, this was to redeem the

city.

Along the road people halted from wonder at sight of that old man; but

believers, laying hands on their shoulders, said with calm voices,—

“See how a just man goes to death,—one who knew Christ and proclaimed

love to the world.”

These became thoughtful, and walked away, saying to themselves, “He

cannot, indeed, be unjust!”

Along the road noise was hushed, and the cries of the street. The

retinue moved on before houses newly reared, before white columns of

temples, over whose summits hung the deep sky, calm and blue. They went

in quiet; only at times the weapons of the soldiers clattered, or the

murmur of prayer rose. Peter heard the last, and his face grew bright

with increasing joy, for his glance could hardly take in those thousands

of confessors. He felt that he had done his work, and he knew now that

that truth which he had been declaring all his life would overwhelm

everything, like a sea, and that nothing would have power to restrain

it. And thus thinking, he raised his eyes, and said: “O Lord, Thou

didst command me to conquer this world-ruling city; hence I have

conquered it. Thou hast commanded me to found here Thy capital; hence I

have founded it. This is Thy city now, O Lord, and I go to Thee, for I

have toiled greatly.”

As he passed before temples, he said to them, “Ye will be temples of

Christ.” Looking at throngs of people moving before his eyes, he said

to them, “Your children will be servants of Christ”; and he advanced

with the feeling that he had conquered, conscious of his service,

conscious of his strength, solaced,—great. The soldiers conducted him

over the Pons Triumphalis, as if giving involuntary testimony to his

triumph, and they led him farther toward the Naumachia and the Circus.

The faithful from beyond the Tiber joined the procession; and such a

throng of people was formed that the centurion commanding the pretonians

understood at last that he was leading a high-priest surrounded by

believers, and grew alarmed because of the small number of soldiers.

But no cry of indignation or rage was given out in the throng. Men’s

faces were penetrated with the greatness of the moment, solemn and full

of expectation. Some believers, remembering that when the Lord died the

earth opened from fright and the dead rose from their graves, thought

that now some evident signs would appear, after which the death of the

Apostle would not be forgotten for ages. Others said to themselves,

“Perhaps the Lord will select the hour of Peter’s death to come from

heaven as He promised, and judge the world.” With this idea they

recommended themselves to the mercy of the Redeemer.

But round about there was calm. The hills seemed to be warming

themselves, and resting in the sun. The procession stopped at last

between the Circus and the Vatican Hill. Soldiers began now to dig a

hole; others placed on the ground the cross, hammers, and nails, waiting

till all preparations were finished. The crowd, continuing quiet and

attentive, knelt round about.

The Apostle, with his head in the