Chapter XXVIII
PETRONIUS to VINICIUS:--"Have pity, carissime; imitate not in thyletters the Lacedemonians or Julius Caesar! Couldst thou, like Julius,write Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered), I might understandthy brevity. But thy letter means absolutely Veni, vidi, fugi (I came, Isaw, I fled). Since such a conclusion of the affair is directly opposedto thy nature, since thou art wounded, and since, finally, uncommonthings are happening to thee, thy letter needs explanation. I couldnot believe my eyes when I read that the Lygian giant killed Croton aseasily as a Caledonian dog would kill a wolf in the defiles of Hibernia.That man is worth as much gold as he himself weighs, and it depends onhim alone to become a favorite of Caesar. When I return to the city,I must gain a nearer acquaintance with that Lygian, and have a bronzestatue of him made for myself. Ahenobarbus will burst from curiosity,when I tell him that it is from nature. Bodies really athletic arebecoming rarer in Italy and in Greece; of the Orient no mention need bemade; the Germans, though large, have muscles covered with fat, andare greater in bulk than in strength. Learn from the Lygian if he is anexception, or if in his country there are more men like him. Should ithappen sometime to thee or me to organize games officially, it would bewell to know where to seek for the best bodies.
"But praise to the gods of the Orient and the Occident that thou hastcome out of such hands alive. Thou hast escaped, of course, becausethou art a patrician, and the son of a consul; but everything which hashappened astonishes me in the highest degree,--that cemetery where thouwert among the Christians, they, their treatment of thee, the subsequentflight of Lygia; finally, that peculiar sadness and disquiet whichbreathes from thy short letter. Explain, for there are many pointswhich I cannot understand; and if thou wish the truth, I will tell theeplainly, that I understand neither the Christians nor thee nor Lygia.Wonder not that I, who care for few things on earth except my ownperson, inquire of thee so eagerly. I have contributed to all thisaffair of thine; hence it is my affair so far. Write soon, for I cannotforesee surely when we may meet. In Bronzebeard's head plans change, aswinds do in autumn. At present, while tarrying in Beneventum, he has thewish to go straightway to Greece, without returning to Rome. Tigellinus,however, advises him to visit the city even for a time, since thepeople, yearning overmuch for his person (read 'for games and bread')may revolt. So I cannot tell how it will be. Should Achaea overbalance,we may want to see Egypt. I should insist with all my might on thycoming, for I think that in thy state of mind travelling and ouramusements would be a medicine, but thou mightst not find us. Consider,then, whether in that case repose in thy Sicilian estates would notbe preferable to remaining in Rome. Write me minutely of thyself, andfarewell. I add no wish this time, except health; for, by Pollux! I knownot what to wish thee."
Vinicius, on receiving this letter, felt at first no desire to reply.He had a kind of feeling that it was not worth while to reply, that ananswer would benefit no one in any way, that it would explain nothing.Discontent, and a feeling of the vanity of life, possessed him. Hethought, moreover, that Petronius would not comprehend him in any case,and that something had happened which would remove them from each other.He could not come to an agreement with himself, even. When he returnedfrom the Trans-Tiber to his splendid "insula," he was exhausted, andfound for the first days a certain satisfaction in rest and in thecomfort and abundance about him. That satisfaction lasted but a shorttime, however. He felt soon that he was living in vanity; that all whichso far had formed the interest of his life either had ceased to existfor him or had shrunk to proportions barely perceptible. He had afeeling as if those ties which hitherto had connected him with lifehad been cut in his soul, and that no new ones had been formed. At thethought that he might go to Beneventum and thence to Achaea, to swim in alife of luxury and wild excess, he had a feeling of emptiness. "To whatend? What shall I gain from it?" These were the first questions whichpassed through his head. And for the first time in life, also, hethought that if he went, the conversation of Petronius, his wit, hisquickness, his exquisite outlining of thought, and his choice of aptphrases for every idea might annoy him.
But solitude, too, had begun to annoy him. All his acquaintances werewith Caesar in Beneventum; so he had to stay at home alone, with ahead full of thoughts, and a heart full of feelings which he could notanalyze. He had moments, however, in which he judged that if he couldconverse with some one about everything that took place in him, perhapshe might be able to grasp it all somehow, bring it to order, andestimate it better. Under the influence of this hope, and after somedays of hesitation, he decided to answer Petronius; and, though notcertain that he would send the answer, he wrote it in the followingwords:--
"It is thy wish that I write more minutely, agreed then; whether I shallbe able to do it more clearly, I cannot tell, for there are many knotswhich I know not myself how to loosen. I described to thee my stay amongthe Christians, and their treatment of enemies, among whom they had aright to count both me and Chilo; finally, of the kindness with whichthey nursed me, and of the disappearance of Lygia. No, my dear friend, Iwas not spared because of being the son of a consul. Such considerationsdo not exist for them, since they forgave even Chilo, though I urgedthem to bury him in the garden. Those are people such as the world hasnot seen hitherto, and their teaching is of a kind that the world hasnot heard up to this time. I can say nothing else, and he errs whomeasures them with our measure. I tell thee that, if I had been lyingwith a broken arm in my own house, and if my own peoples, even my ownfamily, had nursed me, I should have had more comforts, of course, but Ishould not have received half the care which I found among them.
"Know this, too, that Lygia is like the others. Had she been my sisteror my wife, she could not have nursed me more tenderly. Delight filledmy heart more than once, for I judged that love alone could inspire thelike tenderness. More than once I saw love in her look, in her face;and, wilt thou believe me? among those simple people then in that poorchamber, which was at once a culina and a triclinium, I felt happierthan ever before. No; she was not indifferent to me--and to-day even Icannot think that she was. Still that same Lygia left Miriam's dwellingin secret because of me. I sit now whole days with my head on my hands,and think, Why did she do so? Have I written thee that I volunteeredto restore her to Aulus? True, she declared that to be impossible atpresent, because Aulus and Pomponia had gone to Sicily, and because newsof her return going from house to house, through slaves, would reach thePalatine, and Caesar might take her from Aulus again. But she knew that Iwould not pursue her longer; that I had left the way of violence; that,unable to cease loving her or to live without her, I would bring herinto my house through a wreathed door, and seat her on a sacred skin atmy hearth. Still she fled! Why? Nothing was threatening her. Did she notlove me, she might have rejected me. The day before her flight, I madethe acquaintance of a wonderful man, a certain Paul of Tarsus, who spoketo me of Christ and His teachings, and spoke with such power that everyword of his, without his willing it, turns all the foundations of oursociety into ashes. That same man visited me after her flight, and said:'If God open thy eyes to the light, and take the beam from them as Hetook it from mine, thou wilt feel that she acted properly; and then,perhaps, thou wilt find her.' And now I am breaking my head over thesewords, as if I had heard them from the mouth of the Pythoness at Delphi.I seem to understand something. Though they love people, the Christiansare enemies of our life, our gods, and our crimes; hence she fled fromme, as from a man who belongs to our society, and with whom she wouldhave to share a life counted criminal by Christians. Thou wilt say thatsince she might reject me, she had no need to withdraw. But if she lovedme? In that case she desired to flee from love. At the very thought ofthis I wish to send slaves into every alley in Rome, and command themto cry throughout the houses, 'Return, Lygia!' But I cease to understandwhy she fled. I should not have stopped her from believing in herChrist, and would myself have reared an altar to Him in the atrium. Whatharm could one more god do me? Why might I not believe in h
im,--I whodo not believe overmuch in the old gods? I know with full certainty thatthe Christians do not lie; and they say that he rose from the dead.A man cannot rise from the dead. That Paul of Tarsus, who is a Romancitizen, but who, as a Jew, knows the old Hebrew writings, told me thatthe coming of Christ was promised by prophets for whole thousands ofyears. All these are uncommon things, but does not the uncommon surroundus on every side? People have not ceased talking yet of Apollonius ofTyana. Paul's statement that there is one God, not a whole assembly ofthem, seems sound to me. Perhaps Seneca is of this opinion, and beforehim many others. Christ lived, gave Himself to be crucified for thesalvation of the world, and rose from the dead. All this is perfectlycertain. I do not see, therefore, a reason why I should insist on anopposite opinion, or why I should not rear to Him an altar, if I amready to rear one to Serapis, for instance. It would not be difficultfor me even to renounce other gods, for no reasoning mind believes inthem at present. But it seems that all this is not enough yet forthe Christians. It is not enough to honor Christ, one must also liveaccording to His teachings; and here thou art on the shore of a seawhich they command thee to wade through.
"If I promised to do so, they themselves would feel that the promise wasan empty sound of words. Paul told me so openly. Thou knowest how I loveLygia, and knowest that there is nothing that I would not do for her.Still, even at her wish, I cannot raise Soracte or Vesuvius on myshoulders, or place Thrasymene Lake on the palm of my hand, or fromblack make my eyes blue, like those of the Lygians. If she so desired, Icould have the wish, but the change does not lie in my power. I am nota philosopher, but also I am not so dull as I have seemed, perhaps, morethan once to thee. I will state now the following: I know not how theChristians order their own lives, but I know that where their religionbegins, Roman rule ends, Rome itself ends, our mode of life ends, thedistinction between conquered and conqueror, between rich and poor, lordand slave, ends, government ends, Caesar ends, law and all the orderof the world ends; and in place of those appear Christ, with a certainmercy not existent hitherto, and kindness, opposed to human and ourRoman instincts. It is true that Lygia is more to me than all Rome andits lordship; and I would let society vanish could I have her in myhouse. But that is another thing. Agreement in words does not satisfythe Christians; a man must feel that their teaching is truth, and nothave aught else in his soul. But that, the gods are my witnesses, isbeyond me. Dost understand what that means? There is something in mynature which shudders at this religion; and were my lips to glorify it,were I to conform to its precepts, my soul and my reason would say thatI do so through love for Lygia, and that apart from her there is to menothing on earth more repulsive. And, a strange thing, Paul of Tarsusunderstands this, and so does that old theurgus Peter, who in spite ofall his simplicity and low origin is the highest among them, and wasthe disciple of Christ. And dost thou know what they are doing? They arepraying for me, and calling down something which they call grace; butnothing descends on me, save disquiet, and a greater yearning for Lygia.
"I have written thee that she went away secretly; but when going sheleft me a cross which she put together from twigs of boxwood. When Iwoke up, I found it near my bed. I have it now in the lararium, and Iapproach it yet, I cannot tell why, as if there were something divine init,--that is, with awe and reverence. I love it because her hand boundit, and I hate it because it divides us. At times it seems to me thatthere are enchantments of some kind in all this affair, and that thetheurgus, Peter, though he declares himself to be a simple shepherd,is greater than Apollonius, and all who preceded him, and that he hasinvolved us all--Lygia, Pomponia, and me--with them.
"Thou hast written that in my previous letter disquiet and sadness arevisible. Sadness there must be, for I have lost her again, and thereis disquiet because something has changed in me. I tell thee sincerely,that nothing is more repugnant to my nature than that religion, andstill I cannot recognize myself since I met Lygia. Is it enchantment,or love? Circe changed people's bodies by touching them, but my soulhas been changed. No one but Lygia could have done that, or rather Lygiathrough that wonderful religion which she professes. When I returnedto my house from the Christians, no one was waiting for me. The slavesthought that I was in Beneventum, and would not return soon; hence therewas disorder in the house. I found the slaves drunk, and a feast, whichthey were giving themselves, in my triclinium. They had more thoughtof seeing death than me, and would have been less terrified by it.Thou knowest with what a firm hand I hold my house; all to the last onedropped on their knees, and some fainted from terror. But dost thou knowhow I acted? At the first moment I wished to call for rods and hot iron,but immediately a kind of shame seized me, and, wilt thou lend belief?a species of pity for those wretched people. Among them are old slaveswhom my grandfather, Marcus Vinicius, brought from the Rhine in thetime of Augustus. I shut myself up alone in the library, and there camestranger thoughts still to my head; namely, that after what I had heardand seen among the Christians, it did not become me to act with slavesas I had acted hitherto--that they too were people. For a number of daysthey moved about in mortal terror, in the belief that I was delaying soas to invent punishment the more cruel, but I did not punish, and didnot punish because I was not able. Summoning them on the third day, Isaid, 'I forgive you; strive then with earnest service to correct yourfault!' They fell on their knees, covering their faces with tears,stretching forth their hands with groans, and called me lord and father;but I--with shame do I write this--was equally moved. It seemed to methat at that moment I was looking at the sweet face of Lygia, and hereyes filled with tears, thanking me for that act. And, proh pudor! Ifelt that my lips too were moist. Dost know what I will confess to thee?This--that I cannot do without her, that it is ill for me alone, that Iam simply unhappy, and that my sadness is greater than thou wilt admit.But, as to my slaves, one thing arrested my attention. The forgivenesswhich they received not only did not make them insolent, not only didnot weaken discipline, but never had fear roused them to such readyservice as has gratitude. Not only do they serve, but they seem to viewith one another to divine my wishes. I mention this to thee because,when, the day before I left the Christians, I told Paul that societywould fall apart because of his religion, as a cask without hoops, heanswered, 'Love is a stronger hoop than fear.' And now I see that incertain cases his opinion may be right. I have verified it also withreferences to clients, who, learning of my return, hurried to salute me.Thou knowest that I have never been penurious with them; but my fatheracted haughtily with clients on principle, and taught me to treat themin like manner. But when I saw their worn mantles and hungry faces, Ihad a feeling something like compassion. I gave command to bring themfood, and conversed besides with them,--called some by name, some Iasked about their wives and children,--and again in the eyes before meI saw tears; again it seemed to me that Lygia saw what I was doing, thatshe praised and was delighted. Is my mind beginning to wander, or islove confusing my feelings? I cannot tell. But this I do know; I havea continual feeling that she is looking at me from a distance, and I amafraid to do aught that might trouble or offend her.
"So it is, Caius! but they have changed my soul, and sometimes I feelwell for that reason. At times again I am tormented with the thought,for I fear that my manhood and energy are taken from me; that, perhaps,I am useless, not only for counsel, for judgment, for feasts, but forwar even. These are undoubted enchantments! And to such a degree am Ichanged that I tell thee this, too, which came to my head when I laywounded: that if Lygia were like Nigidia, Poppaea, Crispinilla, and ourdivorced women, if she were as vile, as pitiless, and as cheap as they,I should not love her as I do at present. But since I love her for thatwhich divides us, thou wilt divine what a chaos is rising in my soul, inwhat darkness I live, how it is that I cannot see certain roads beforeme, and how far I am from knowing what to begin. If life may be comparedto a spring, in my spring disquiet flows instead of water. I livethrough the hope that I shall see her, perhaps, and sometimes it seemsto me that I shal
l see her surely. But what will happen to me in a yearor two years, I know not, and cannot divine. I shall not leave Rome.I could not endure the society of the Augustians; and besides, the onesolace in my sadness and disquiet is the thought that I am near Lygia,that through Glaucus the physician, who promised to visit me, or throughPaul of Tarsus, I can learn something of her at times. No; I would notleave Rome, even were ye to offer me the government of Egypt. Know also,that I have ordered the sculptor to make a stone monument for Gulo, whomI slew in anger. Too late did it come to my mind that he had carried mein his arms, and was the first to teach me how to put an arrow on a bow.I know not why it was that a recollection of him rose in me which wassorrow and reproach. If what I write astonish thee, I reply that itastonishes me no less, but I write pure truth.--Farewell."
Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero Page 28
