Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📕

Thus conversing, he entered the wine-shop and ordered a pitcher of “dark” for himself. Seeing the skeptical look of the shopkeeper, he took a gold coin from his purse, and, putting it on the table, said⁠—“Sporus, I toiled today with Seneca from dawn till midday, and this is what my friend gave me at parting.”

The plump eyes of Sporus became plumper still at this sight, and the wine was soon before Chilo. Moistening his fingers in it, he drew a fish on the table, and said⁠—“Knowest what that means?”

“A fish? Well, a fish⁠—yes, that’s a fish.”

“Thou art dull; though thou dost add so much water to the wine that thou mightst find a fish in it. This is a symbol which, in the language of philosophers, means ‘the smile of fortune.’ If thou hadst divined it, thou too mightst have made a fortune. Honor philosophy, I tell thee, or I shall change my wine-shop⁠—an act to which Petronius, my personal friend, has been urging me this long time.”

For a number of days after the interview, Chilo did not show himself anywhere. Vinicius, since he had learned from Acte that Lygia loved him, was a hundred times more eager to find her, and began himself to search. He was unwilling, and also unable, to ask aid of Caesar, who was in great fear because of the illness of the infant Augusta.

Sacrifices in the temples did not help, neither did prayers and offerings, nor the art of physicians, nor all the means of enchantment to which they turned finally. In a week the child died. Mourning fell upon the court and Rome. Caesar, who at the birth of the infant was wild with delight, was wild now from despair, and, confining himself in his apartments, refused food for two days; and though the palace was swarming with senators and Augustians, who hastened with marks of sorrow and sympathy, he denied audience to everyone. The senate assembled in an extraordinary session, at which the dead child was pronounced divine. It was decided to rear to her a temple and appoint a special priest to her service. New sacrifices were offered in other temples in honor of the deceased; statues of her were cast from precious metals; and her funeral was one immense solemnity, during which the people wondered at the unrestrained marks of grief which Caesar exhibited; they wept with him, stretched out their hands for gifts, and above all amused themselves with the unparalleled spectacle.

That death alarmed Petronius. All knew in Rome that Poppaea ascribed it to enchantment. The physicians, who were thus enabled to explain the vanity of their efforts, supported her; the priests, whose sacrifices proved powerless, did the same, as well as the sorcerers, who were trembling for their lives, and also the people. Petronius was glad now that Lygia had fled; for he wished no evil to Aulus and Pomponia, and he wished good to himself and Vinicius; therefore when the cypress, set out before the Palatine as a sign of mourning, was removed, he went to the reception appointed for the senators and Augustians to learn how far Nero had lent ear to reports of spells, and to neutralize results which might come from his belief.

Knowing Nero, he thought, too, that though he did not believe in charms, he would feign belief, so as to magnify his own suffering, and take vengeance on someone, finally, to escape the suspicion that the gods had begun to punish him for crimes. Petronius did not think that Caesar could love really and deeply even his own child; though he loved her passionately, he felt certain, however, that he would exaggerate his suffering. He was not mistaken. Nero listened, with stony face and fixed eyes, to the consolation offered by knights and senators. It was evident that, even if he suffered, he was thinking of this: What impression would his suffering make upon others? He was posing as a Niobe, and giving an exhibition of parental sorrow, as an actor would give it on the stage. He had not the power even then to endure in his silent and as it were petrified sorrow, for at moments he made a gesture as if to cast the dust of the earth on his head, and at moments he groaned deeply; but seeing Petronius, he sprang up and cried in a tragic voice, so that all present could hear him⁠—“Eheu! And thou art guilty of her death! At thy advice the evil spirit entered these walls⁠—the evil spirit which, with one look, drew the life from her breast! Woe is me! Would that my eyes had not seen the light of Helios! Woe is me! Eheu! eheu!”

And raising his voice still more, he passed into a despairing shout; but Petronius resolved at that moment to put everything on one cast of the dice; hence, stretching out his hand, he seized the silk kerchief which Nero wore around his neck always, and, placing it on the mouth of the Imperator, said solemnly⁠—“Lord, Rome and the world are benumbed with pain; but do thou preserve thy voice for us!”

Those present were amazed; Nero himself was amazed for a moment. Petronius alone was unmoved; he knew too well what he was doing. He remembered, besides, that Terpnos and Diodorus had a direct order to close Caesar’s mouth whenever he raised his voice too much and exposed it to danger.

“O Caesar!” continued he, with the same seriousness and sorrow, “we have suffered an immeasurable loss; let even this treasure of consolation remain to us!”

Nero’s face quivered, and after a while tears came from his eyes. All at once he rested his hands on Petronius’s shoulders, and, dropping his head on his breast, began to repeat, amid sobs⁠—

“Thou alone of all thought of this⁠—thou alone, O Petronius! thou alone!”

Tigellinus grew yellow from envy; but Petronius continued⁠—

“Go to Antium! there she came to the world, there joy flowed in