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

THE cry, “Christians to the lions!” was heard increasingly in every part

of the city. At first not only did no one doubt that they were the real

authors of the catastrophe, but no one wished to doubt, since their

punishment was to be a splendid amusement for the populace. Still the

opinion spread that the catastrophe would not have assumed such dreadful

proportions but for the anger of the gods; for this reason “piacula,” or

purifying sacrifices, were commanded in the temples. By advice of the

Sibylline books, the Senate ordained solemnities and public prayer to

Vulcan, Ceres, and Proserpina. Matrons made offerings to Juno; a whole

procession of them went to the seashore to take water and sprinkle with

it the statue of the goddess. Married women prepared feasts to the gods

and night watches. All Rome purified itself from sin, made offerings,

and placated the Immortals. Meanwhile new broad streets were opened

among the ruins. In one place and another foundations were laid for

magnificent houses, palaces, and temples. But first of all they built

with unheard-of haste an enormous wooden amphitheatre in which

Christians were to die. Immediately after that consultation in the house

of Tiberius, orders went to consuls to furnish wild beasts. Tigellinus

emptied the vivaria of all Italian cities, not excepting the smaller

ones. In Africa, at his command, gigantic hunts were organized, in

which the entire local population was forced to take part. Elephants

and tigers were brought in from Asia, crocodiles and hippopotamuses from

the Nile, lions from the Atlas, wolves and bears from the Pyrenees,

savage hounds from Hibernia, Molossian dogs from Epirus, bisons and the

gigantic wild aurochs from Germany. Because of the number of prisoners,

the games were to surpass in greatness anything seen up to that time.

Cæsar wished to drown all memory of the fire in blood, and make Rome

drunk with it; hence never had there been a greater promise of

bloodshed.

The willing people helped guards and pretorians in hunting Christians.

That was no difficult labor for whole groups of them camped with the

other population in the midst of the gardens, and confessed their faith

openly. When surrounded, they knelt, and while singing hymns let

themselves be borne away without resistance. But their patience only

increased the anger of the populace, who, not understanding its origin,

considered it as rage and persistence in crime. A madness seized the

persecutors. It happened that the mob wrested Christians from

pretorians, and tore them to pieces; women were dragged to prison by the

hair; children’s heads were dashed against stones. Thousands of people

rushed, howling, night and day through the streets. Victims were sought

in ruins, in chimneys, in cellars. Before the prison bacchanalian

feasts and dances were celebrated at fires, around casks of wine.

In the evening was heard with delight bellowing which was like thunder,

and which sounded throughout the city. The prisons were overflowing

with thousands of people; every day the mob and pretorians drove in new

victims. Pity had died out. It seemed that people had forgotten to

speak, and in their wild frenzy remembered one shout alone: “To the

lions with Christians!” Wonderfully hot days came, and nights more

stifling than ever before; the very air seemed filled with blood, crime,

and madness.

And that surpassing measure of cruelty was answered by an equal measure

of desire for martyrdom,—the confessors of Christ went to death

willingly, or even sought death till they were restrained by the stern

commands of superiors. By the injunction of these superiors they began

to assemble only outside the city, in excavations near the Appian Way,

and in vineyards belonging to patrician Christians, of whom none had

been imprisoned so far. It was known perfectly on the Palatine that to

the confessors of Christ belonged Flavius, Domitilla, Pomponia Græcina,

Cornelius Pudens, and Vinicius. Cæsar himself, however, feared that the

mob would not believe that such people had burned Rome, and since it was

important beyond everything to convince the mob, punishment and

vengeance were deferred till later days. Others were of the opinion,

but erroneously, that those patricians were saved by the influence of

Acte. Petronius, after parting with Vinicius, turned to Acte, it is

true, to gain assistance for Lygia; but she could offer him only tears,

for she lived in oblivion and suffering, and was endured only in so far

as she hid herself from Poppæa and Cæsar.

But she had visited Lygia in prison, she had carried her clothing and

food, and above all had saved her from injury on the part of the prison-guards, who, moreover, were bribed already.

Petronius, unable to forget that had it not been for him and his plan of

taking Lygia from the house of Aulus, probably she would not be in

prison at that moment, and, besides, wishing to win the game against

Tigellinus, spared neither time nor efforts. In the course of a few

days he saw Seneca, Domitius Afer, Crispinilla, and Diodorus, through

whom he wished to reach Poppæa; he saw Terpnos, and the beautiful

Pythagoras, and finally Aliturus and Paris, to whom Cæsar usually

refused nothing. With the help of Chrysothemis, then mistress of

Vatinius, he tried to gain even his aid, not sparing in this case and in

others promises and money.

But all these efforts were fruitless. Seneca, uncertain of the morrow,

fell to explaining to him that the Christians, even if they had not

burned Rome, should be exterminated, for the good of the city,—in a

word, he justified the coming slaughter for political reasons. Terpnos

and Diodorus took the money, and did nothing in return for it. Vatinius

reported to Cæsar that they had been trying to bribe him. Aliturus

alone, who at first was hostile to the Christians, took pity on them

then, and made bold to mention to Cæsar the imprisoned maiden, and to

implore in her behalf. He obtained nothing, however, but the answer,—

“Dost thou think that I have a soul inferior to that of Brutus, who

spared not his own sons for the good of Rome?”

When this answer was repeated to Petronius, he said,—

“Since Nero has compared himself to Brutus, there is no salvation.”

But he was sorry for Vinicius, and dread seized him lest he might

attempt his own life. “Now,” thought the arbiter, “he is upheld by the

efforts which he makes to save her, by the sight of her, and by his own

suffering; but when all means fail and the last ray of hope is quenched,

by Castor! he will not survive, he will throw himself on his sword.”

Petronius understood better how to die thus than to love and suffer like

Vinicius.

Meanwhile Vinicius did all that he could think of to save Lygia. He

visited Augustians; and he, once so proud, now begged their assistance.

Through Vitelius he offered Tigellinus all his Sicilian estates, and

whatever else the man might ask; but Tigellinus, not wishing apparently

to offend the Augusta, refused. To go to Cæsar himself, embrace his

knees and implore, would lead to nothing. Vinicius wished, it is true,

to do this; but Petronius,