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

the motionless cypresses and the white villas hidden among them. The

sound of hoofs on the stone flags roused dogs here and there; these

followed the strange vision with their barking; afterward, excited by

its suddenness, they fell to howling, and raised their jaws toward the

moon. The slaves hastening after Vinicius soon dropped behind, as their

horses were greatly inferior. When he had rushed like a storm through

sleeping Laurentum, he turned toward Ardea, in which, as in Aricia,

Bovillæ, and Ustrinum, he had kept relays of horses from the day of his

coming to Antium, so as to pass in the shortest time possible the

interval between Rome and him. Remembering these relays, he forced all

the strength from his horse.

Beyond Ardea it seemed to him that the sky on the northeast was covered

with a rosy reflection. That might be the dawn, for the hour was late,

and in July daybreak came early. But Vinicius could not keep down a cry

of rage and despair, for it seemed to him that that was the glare of the

conflagration. He remembered the consul’s words, “The whole city is one

sea of flame,” and for a while he felt that madness was threatening him

really, for he had lost utterly all hope that he could save Lygia, or

even reach the city before it was turned into one heap of ashes. His

thoughts were quicker now than the rush of the stallion, they flew on

ahead like a flock of birds, black, monstrous, and rousing despair. He

knew not, it is true, in what part of the city the fire had begun; but

he supposed that the Trans-Tiber division, as it was packed with

tenements, timber-yards, storehouses, and wooden sheds serving as slave

marts, might have become the first food of the flames.

In Rome fires happened frequently enough; during these fires, as

frequently, deeds of violence and robbery were committed, especially in

the parts occupied by a needy and half-barbarous population. What might

happen, therefore, in a place like the Trans-Tiber, which was the

retreat of a rabble collected from all parts of the earth? Here the

thought of Ursus with his preterhuman power flashed into Vinicius’s

head; but what could be done by a man, even were he a Titan, against the

destructive force of fire?

The fear of servile rebellion was like a nightmare, which had stifled

Rome for whole years. It was said that hundreds of thousands of those

people were thinking of the times of Spartacus, and merely waiting for a

favorable moment to seize arms against their oppressors and Rome. Now

the moment had come! Perhaps war and slaughter were raging in the city

together with fire. It was possible even that the pretorians had hurled

themselves on the city, and were slaughtering at command of Cæsar.

And that moment the hair rose from terror on his head. He recalled all

the conversations about burning cities, which for some time had been

repeated at Cæsar’s court with wonderful persistence; he recalled

Cæsar’s complaints that he was forced to describe a burning city without

having seen a real fire; his contemptuous answer to Tigellinus, who

offered to burn Antium or an artificial wooden city; finally, his

complaints against Rome, and the pestilential alleys of the Subura.

Yes; Cæsar has commanded the burning of the city! He alone could give

such a command, as Tigellinus alone could accomplish it. But if Rome is

burning at command of Cæsar, who can be sure that the population will

not be slaughtered at his command also? The monster is capable even of

such a deed. Conflagration, a servile revolt, and slaughter! What a

horrible chaos, what a letting loose of destructive elements and popular

frenzy! And in all this is Lygia.

The groans of Vinicius were mingled with the snorting and groans of his

horse; the beast, running on a road which rose continually toward

Aricia, was using the last of its breath. Who will snatch her from the

burning city; who can save her? Here Vinicius, stretching himself

entirely on the horse, thrust his fingers into his own hair, ready to

gnaw the beast’s neck from pain.

At that moment a horseman, rushing also like a whirlwind, but in the

opposite direction, toward Antium, shouted as he raced past, “Rome is

perishing!” and on he went. To the ears of Vinicius came only one more

expression: “Gods!” the rest was drowned by the thunder of hoofs. But

that expression sobered him,—“Gods!”

Vinicius raised his head suddenly, and, stretching his arms toward the

sky filled with stars, began to pray.

“Not to you do I call whose temples are burning, but to Thee! Thou

Thyself hast suffered. Thou alone art merciful! Thou alone hast

understood people’s pain; Thou didst come to this world to teach pity to

mankind; then show it now. If Thou art what Peter and Paul declare,

save for me Lygia, take her in Thy arms, bear her out of the flames.

Thou hast the power to do that! Give her to me, and I will give Thee my

blood. But if Thou art unwilling to do this for me, do it for her. She

loves Thee and trusts in Thee. Thou dost promise life and happiness

after death, but happiness after death will not pass away, and she does

not wish to die yet. Let her live. Take her in Thy arms, bear her out

of Rome. Thou canst do so, unless Thou art unwilling.”

And he stopped, for he felt that further prayer might turn to a threat;

he feared to offend Divinity at the moment when he needed favor and

mercy most. He was terrified at the very thought of that, and, so as

not to admit to his head a shade even of threat, he began to lash his

horse again, especially since the white walls of Aricia, which lay

midway to Rome, gleained up before him in the moonlight.

After a time he rushed at full speed past the temple of Mercury, which

stood in a grove before the city. Evidently people knew of the

catastrophe, for there was an uncommon movement in front of the temple.

While passing, Vinicius saw crowds on the steps and between the columns.

These people holding torches were hastening to put themselves under

protection of the deity. Moreover the road was not so empty or free as

beyond Ardea. Crowds were hurrying, it is true, to the grove by side-paths, but on the main road were groups which pushed aside hurriedly

before the onrushing horseman. From the town came the sound of voices.

Vinicius rode into Aricia like a whirlwind, overturning and trampling a

number of persons on the way. He was surrounded by shouts of “Rome is

burning!” “Rome is on fire!” “May the gods rescue Rome!”

The horse stumbled, but, reined in by a powerful hand, rose on his

haunches before the inn, where Vinicius had another beast in relay.

Slaves, as if waiting for the arrival of their master, stood before the

inn, and at his command ran one before the other to lead out a fresh

horse. Vinicius, seeing a detachment of ten mounted pretorians, going

evidently with news from the city to Antium, sprang toward them.

“What part of the city is on fire?” inquired he.

“Who art thou?” asked the decurion.

“Vinicius, a tribune of the army, an Augustian. Answer on thy head!”

“The fire broke out in the shops near the Circus Maximus. When we were

despatched, the centre of the city was on fire.”

“And the Trans-Tiber?”

“The fire has not reached the Trans-Tiber yet, but it is seizing new

parts every moment with a force which nothing can stop. People are

perishing from heat and smoke; all rescue is impossible.”

At this moment they brought the fresh horse. The young tribune sprang

to his back and rushed on. He was riding now toward Albanum, leaving

Alba Longa and its splendid lake on the right. The road from Aricia lay

at the foot of the mountain, which hid the horizon completely, and

Albanum lying on the other side of it. But Vinicius knew that on

reaching the top he should see, not only Bovillæ and Ustrinum, where

fresh horses were ready for him, but Rome as well: for beyond Albanum

the low level Campania stretched on both sides of the Appian Way, along

which only the arches of the aqueducts ran toward the city, and nothing

obstructed the view.

“From the top I shall see the flames,” said he; and he began to lash his

horse anew. But before he had reached the top of the mountain he felt

the wind on his face, and with it came the odor of smoke to his

nostrils. At the same time the summit of the height was becoming

gilded.

“The fire!” thought Vinicius.

The night had paled long since, the dawn had passed into light, and on

all the nearer summits golden and rosy gleams were shining, which might

come either from burning Rome or the rising daylight. Vinicius touched

the summit at last, and then a terrible sight struck his eyes.

The whole lower region was covered with smoke, forming as it were one

gigantic cloud lying close to the earth. In this cloud towns,

aqueducts, villas, trees, disappeared; but beyond this gray ghastly

plain the city was burning on the hills.

The conflagration had not the form of a pillar of fire, as happens when

a single building is burning, even when of the greatest size. That was a

long belt, rather, shaped like the belt of dawn. Above this belt rose a

wave of smoke, in places entirely black, in places looking rose-colored,

in places like blood, in places turning in on itself, in some places

inflated, in others squeezed and squirming, like a serpent which is

unwinding and extending. That monstrous wave seemed at times to cover

even the belt of fire, which became then as narrow as a ribbon; but

later this ribbon illuminated the smoke from beneath, changing its lower

rolls into waves of flame. The two extended from one side of the sky to

the other, hiding its lower part, as at times a stretch of forest hides

the horizon. The Sabine hills were not visible in the least.

To Vinicius it seemed at the first glance of the eye that not only the

city was burning, but the whole world, and that no living being could

save itself from that ocean of flame and smoke.

The wind blew with growing strength from the region of the fire,

bringing the smell of burnt things and of smoke, which began to hide

even nearer objects. Clear daylight had come, and the sun lighted up

the summits surrounding the Alban Lake. But the bright golden rays of

the morning appeared as it were reddish and sickly through the haze.

Vinicius, while descending toward Albanum, entered smoke which was

denser, less and less transparent. The town itself was buried in it

thoroughly. The alarmed citizens had moved out to the street. It was a

terror to think of what might be in Rome, when it was difficult to

breathe in Albanum.

Despair seized Vinicius anew, and terror began to raise the hair on his

head. But he tried to fortify himself as best he might. “It is

impossible,” thought he, “that a city should begin to burn in all places

at once. The wind is blowing from the north and bears smoke in this

direction only. On the other side there is none. But in every case it

will be enough for Ursus to go through the Janiculum gate with Lygia, to

save himself and her. It is equally impossible that a whole population

should