Chapter XXVI

NEXT morning he woke up weak, but with a cool head and free of fever.
It seemed to him that a whispered conversation had roused him; but when
he opened his eyes, Lygia was not there. Ursus, stooping before the
chimney, was raking apart the gray ashes, and seeking live coals beneath
them. When he found some, he began to blow, not with his mouth, but as
it were with the bellows of a blacksmith. Vinicius, remembering how
that man had crushed Croton the day before, examined with attention
befitting a lover of the arena his gigantic back, which resembled the
back of a Cyclops, and his limbs strong as columns.

"Thanks to Mercury that my neck was not broken by him," thought
Vinicius. "By Pollux! if the other Lygians are like this one, the
Danubian legions will have heavy work some time!"

But aloud he said, "Hei, slave!"

Ursus drew his head out of the chimney, and, smiling in a manner almost
friendly, said,--"God give thee a good day, lord, and good health; but I
am a free man, not a slave."

On Vinicius. who wished to question Ursus touching Lygia's birthplace,
these words produced a certain pleasant impression; for discourse with a
free though a common man was less disagreeable to his Roman and
patrician pride, than with a slave, in whom neither law nor custom
recognized human nature.

"Then thou dost not belong to Aulus?" asked he.

"No, lord, I serve Callina, as I served her mother, of my own will."

Here he hid his head again in the chimney, to blow the coals, on which
he had placed some wood. When he had finished, he took it out and
said,--"With us there are no slaves."

"Where is Lygia?" inquired Vinicius.

"She has gone out, and I am to cook food for thee. She watched over
thee the whole night."

"Why didst thou not relieve her?"

"Because she wished to watch, and it is for me to obey." Here his eyes
grew gloomy, and after a while he added:

"If I had disobeyed her, thou wouldst not be living."

"Art thou sorry for not having killed me?"

"No, lord. Christ has not commanded us to kill."

"But Atacinus and Croton?"

"I could not do otherwise," muttered Ursus. And he looked with regret
on his hands, which had remained pagan evidently, though his soul had
accepted the cross. Then be put a pot on the crane, and fixed his
thoughtful eyes on the fire.

"That was thy fault, lord," said he at last. "Why didst thou raise thy
hand against her, a king's daughter?"

Pride boiled up, at the first moment, in Vinicius, because a common man
and a barbarian had not merely dared to speak to him thus familiarly,
but to blame him in addition. To those uncommon and improbable things
which had met him since yesterday, was added another. But being weak
and without his slaves, he restrained himself, especially since a wish
to learn some details of Lygia's life gained the upper hand in him.

When he had calmed himself, therefore, he inquired about the war of the
Lygians against Vannius and the Suevi. Ursus was glad to converse, but
could not add much that was new to what in his time Aulus Plautius had
told. Ursus had not been in battle, for he had attended the hostages to
the camp of Atelius Hister. He knew only that the Lygians had beaten
the Suevi and the Yazygi, but that their leader and king had fallen from
the arrows of the Yazygi. Immediately after they received news that the
Semnones had set fire to forests on their boundaries, they returned in
haste to avenge the wrong, and the hostages remained with Atelius, who
ordered at first to give them kingly honors. Afterward Lygia's mother
died. The Roman commander knew not what to do with the child. Ursus
wished to return with her to their own country, but the road was unsafe
because of wild beasts and wild tribes. When news came that an embassy
of Lygians had visited Pomponius, offering him aid against the
Marcomani, Hister sent him with Lygia to Pomponius. When they came to
him they learned, however, that no ambassadors had been there, and in
that way they remained in the camp; whence Pomponius took them to Rome,
and at the conclusion of his triumph he gave the king's daughter to
Pomponia Gręcina.

Though only certain small details of this narrative had been unknown to
Vinicius, he listened with pleasure, for his enormous pride of family
was pleased that an eye-witness had confirmed Lygia's royal descent. As
a king's daughter she might occupy a position at Cęsar's court equal to
the daughters of the very first families, all the more since the nation
whose ruler her father had been, had not warred with Rome so far, and,
though barbarian, it might become terrible; for, according to Atelius
Hister himself, it possessed an immense force of warriors. Ursus,
moreover, confirmed this completely.

"We live in the woods," said he, in answer to Vinicius, "but we have so
much land that no man knows where the end is, and there are many people
on it. There are also wooden towns in the forest, in which there is
great plenty; for what the Semnones, the Marcomani, the Vandals, and the
Quadi plunder through the world, we take from them. They dare not come
to us; but when the wind blows from their side, they burn our forests.
We fear neither them nor the Roman Cęsar."

"The gods gave Rome dominion over the earth," said Vinicius severely.

"The gods are evil spirits," replied Ursus, with simplicity, "and where
there are no Romans, there is no supremacy."

Here he fixed the fire, and said, as if to himself,--"When Cęsar took
Callina to the palace, and I thought that harm might meet her, I wanted
to go to the forest and bring Lygians to help the king's daughter. And
Lygians would have moved toward the Danube, for they are virtuous people
though pagan. There I should have given them 'good tidings.' But as it
is, if ever Callina returns to Pomponia Gręcina I will bow down to her
for permission to go to them; for Christus was born far away, and they
have not even heard of Him. He knew better than I where He should be
born; but if He had come to the world with us, in the forests, we would
not have tortured Him to death, that is certain. We would have taken
care of the Child, and guarded Him, so that never should He want for
game, mushrooms, beaver-skins, or amber. And what we plundered from the
Suevi and the Marcomani we would have given Him, so that He might have
comfort and plenty."

Thus speaking, he put near the fire the vessel with food for Vinicius,
and was silent. His thoughts wandered evidently, for a time yet,
through the Lygian wildernesses, till the liquid began to boil; then he
poured it into a shallow plate, and, cooling it properly, said,--
"Glaucus advises thee, lord, to move even thy sound arm as little as
possible; Callina has commanded me to give thee food."

Lygia commanded! There was no answer to that. It did not even come to
Vinicius's head to oppose her will, just as if she had been the daughter
of Cęsar or a goddess. He uttered not a word, therefore; and Ursus,
sitting near his bed, took out the liquid with a small cup, and put it
to his mouth. He did this so carefully, and with such a kindly smile,
that Vinicius could not believe his own eyes, could not think him the
same terrible Titan who the day before had crushed Croton, and, rushing
on him like a storm, would have torn him to pieces but for Lygia's pity.
The young patrician, for the first time in life, began to ponder over
this: What can take place in the breast of a simple man, a barbarian,
and a servant?

But Ursus proved to be a nurse as awkward as painstaking; the cup was
lost among his herculean fingers so completely that there was no place
left for the mouth of the sick man. After a few fruitless efforts the
giant was troubled greatly, and said,--"Li! it would be easier to lead
an aurochs out of a snare."

The anxiety of the Lygian amused Vinicius, but his remark did not
interest him less. He had seen in circuses the terrible urus, brought
from wildernesses of the north, against which the most daring bestiarii
went with dread, and which yielded only to elephants in size and
strength.

"Hast thou tried to take such beasts by the horns?" inquired he, with
astonishment.

"Till the twentieth winter passed over me, I was afraid," answered
Ursus; "but after that it happened."

And he began to feed Vinicius still more awkwardly than before.

"I must ask Miriam or Nazarius," said he.

But now Lygia's pale face appeared from behind the curtain.

"I will assist directly," said she. And after a while she came from the
cubiculum, in which she had been preparing to sleep, as it seemed, for
she was in a single close tunic, called by the ancients capitium,
covering the breast completely, and her hair was unbound. Vinicius,
whose heart beat with more quickness at sight of her, began to upbraid
her for not thinking of sleep yet; but she answered joyously,--"I was
just preparing to sleep, but first I will take the place of Ursus."

She took the cup, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, began to give
food to Vinicius, who felt at once overcome and delighted. When she
inclined toward him, the warmth of her body struck him, and her unbound
hair fell on his breast. He grew pale from the impression; but in the
confusion and impulse of desires he felt also that that was a head dear
above all and magnified above all, in comparison with which the whole
world was nothing. At first he had desired her; now he began to love
her with a full breast. Before that, as generally in life and in
feeling, he had been, like all people of that time, a blind,
unconditional egotist, who thought only of himself; at present he began
to think of her.

After a while, therefore, he refused further nourishment; and though he
found inexhaustible delight in her presence and in looking at her, he
said,--"Enough! Go to rest, my divine one."

"Do not address me in that way," answered Lygia; "it is not proper for
me to hear such words."

She smiled at him, however, and said that sleep had fled from her, that
she felt no toil, that she would not go to rest till Glaucus came. He
listened to her words as to music; his heart rose with increasing
delight, increasing gratitude, and his thought was struggling to show
her that gratitude.

"Lygia," said he, after a moment of silence, "I did not know thee
hitherto. But I know now that I wished to attain thee by a false way;
hence I say, return to Pomponia Gręcina, and be assured that in future
no hand will be raised against thee."

Her face became sad on a sudden. "I should be happy," answered she,
"could I look at her, even from a distance; but I cannot return to her
now."

"Why?" inquired Vinicius, with astonishment.

"We Christians know, through Acte, what is done on the Palatine. Hast
thou not heard that Cęsar, soon after my flight and before his departure
for Naples, summoned Aulus and Pomponia, and, thinking that they had
helped me, threatened them with his anger? Fortunately Aulus was able to
say to him, 'Thou knowest, lord, that a lie has never passed my lips; I
swear to thee now that we did not help her to escape, and we do not
know, as thou dost not, what has happened to her.' Cęsar believed, and
afterward forgot. By the advice of the elders I have never written to
mother where I am, so that she might take an oath boldly at all times
that she has no knowledge of me. Thou wilt not understand this,
perhaps, O Vinicius; but it is not permitted us to lie, even in a
question involving life. Such is the religion on which we fashion our
hearts; therefore I have not seen Pomponia from the hour when I left her
house. From time to time distant echoes barely reach her that I am
alive and not in danger."

Here a longing seized Lygia, and her eyes were moist with tears; but she
calmed herself quickly, and said,--"I know that Pomponia, too, yearns
for me; but we have consolation which others have not."

"Yes," answered Vinicius, "Christ is your consolation, but I do not
understand that."

"Look at us! For us there are no partings, no pains, no sufferings; or
if they come they are turned into pleasure. And death itself, which for
you is the end of life, is for us merely its beginning,--the exchange of
a lower for a higher happiness, a happiness less calm for one calmer and
eternal. Consider what must a religion be which enjoins on us love even
for our enemies, forbids falsehood, purifies our souls from hatred, and
promises happiness inexhaustible after death."

"I heard those teachings in Ostrianum, and I have seen how ye acted with
me and with Chilo; when I remember your deeds, they are like a dream,
and it seems to me that I ought not to believe my ears or eyes. But
answer me this question: Art thou happy?"

"I am," answered Lygia. "One who confesses Christ cannot be unhappy."
Vinicius looked at her, as though what she said passed every measure of
human understanding.

"And hast thou no wish to return to Pomponia?"

"I should like, from my whole soul, to return to her; and shall return,
if such be God's will."

"I say to thee, therefore, return; and I swear by my lares that I will
not raise a hand against thee."

Lygia thought for a moment, and answered,--"No, I cannot expose those
near me to danger. Cęsar does not like the Plautiuses. Should I return
--thou knowest how every news is spread throughout Rome by slaves--my
return would be noised about in the city. Nero would hear of it surely
through his slaves, and punish Aulus and Pomponia,--at least take me
from them a second time."

"True," answered Vinicius, frowning, "that would be possible. He would
do so, even to show that his will must be obeyed. It is true that he
only forgot thee, or would remember thee, because the loss was not his,
but mine. Perhaps, if he took thee from Aulus and Pomponia, he would
send thee to me and I could give thee back to them."

"Vinicius, wouldst thou see me again on the Palatine?" inquired Lygia.

He set his teeth, and answered,--"No. Thou art right. I spoke like a
fool! No!"

And all at once he saw before him a precipice, as it were without
bottom. He was a patrician, a military tribune, a powerful man; but
above every power of that world to which he belonged was a madman whose
will and malignity it was impossible to foresee. Only such people as
the Christians might cease to reckon with Nero or fear him,--people for
whom this whole world, with its separations and sufferings, was as
nothing; people for whom death itself was as nothing. All others had to
tremble before him. The terrors of the time in which they lived showed
themselves to Vinicius in all their monstrous extent. He could not
return Lygia to Aulus and Pomponia, then, through fear that the monster
would remember her, and turn on her his anger; for the very same reason,
if he should take her as wife, he might expose her, himself, and Aulus.
A moment of ill-humor was enough to ruin all. Vinicius felt, for the
first time in life, that either the world must change and be
transformed, or life would become impossible altogether. He understood
also this, which a moment before had been dark to him, that in such
times only Christians could be happy.

But above all, sorrow seized him, for he understood, too, that it was he
who had so involved his own life and Lygia's that out of the
complication there was scarcely an outcome. And under the influence of
that sorrow he began to speak:

"Dost thou know that thou art happier than I? Thou art in poverty, and
in this one chamber, among simple people, thou hast thy religion and thy
Christ; but I have only thee, and when I lacked thee I was like a beggar
without a roof above him and without bread. Thou art dearer to me than
the whole world. I sought thee, for I could not live without thee. I
wished neither feasts nor sleep. Had it not been for the hope of finding
thee, I should have cast myself on a sword. But I fear death, for if
dead I could not see thee. I speak the pure truth in saying that I
shall not be able to live without thee. I have lived so far only in the
hope of finding and beholding thee. Dost thou remember our
conversations at the house of Aulus? Once thou didst draw a fish for me
on the sand, and I knew not what its meaning was. Dost thou remember
how we played ball? I loved thee then above life, and thou hadst begun
already to divine that I loved thee. Aulus came, frightened us with
Libitina, and interrupted our talk. Pomponia, at parting, told
Petronius that God is one, all-mighty and all-merciful, but it did not
even occur to us that Christ was thy God and hers. Let Him give thee to
me and I will love Him, though He seems to me a god of slaves,
foreigners, and beggars. Thou sittest near me, and thinkest of Him
only. Think of me too, or I shall hate Him. For me thou alone art a
divinity. Blessed be thy father and mother; blessed the land which
produced thee! I should wish to embrace thy feet and pray to thee, give
thee honor, homage, offerings, thou thrice divine! Thou knowest not, or
canst not know, how I love thee."

Thus speaking, he placed his hand on his pale forehead and closed his
eyes. His nature never knew bounds in love or anger. He spoke with
enthusiasm, like a man who, having lost self-control, has no wish to
observe any measure in words or feelings. But he spoke from the depth
of his soul, and sincerely. It was to be felt that the pain, ecstasy,
desire, and homage accumulated in his breast had burst forth at last in
an irresistible torrent of words. To Lygia his words appeared
blasphemous, but still her heart began to beat as if it would tear the
tunic enclosing her bosom. She could not resist pity for him and his
suffering. She was moved by the homage with which he spoke to her. She
felt beloved and deified without bounds; she felt that that unbending
and dangerous man belonged to her now, soul and body, like a slave; and
that feeling of his submission and her own power filled her with
happiness. Her recollections revived in one moment. He was for her
again that splendid Vinicius, beautiful as a pagan god; he, who in the
house of Aulus had spoken to her of love, and roused as if from sleep
her heart half childlike at that time; he from whose embraces Ursus had
wrested her on the Palatine, as he might have wrested her from flames.
But at present, with ecstasy, and at the same time with pain in his
eagle face, with pale forehead and imploring eyes,--wounded, broken by
love, loving, full of homage and submissive,--he seemed to her such as
she would have wished him, and such as she would have loved with her
whole soul, therefore dearer than he had ever been before.

All at once she understood that a moment might come in which his love
would seize her and bear her away, as a whirlwind; and when she felt
this, she had the same impression that he had a moment before,--that she
was standing on the edge of a precipice. Was it for this that she had
left the house of Aulus? Was it for this that she had saved herself by
flight? Was it for this that she had hidden so long in wretched parts
of the city? Who was that Vinicius? An Augustian, a soldier, a
courtier of Nero! Moreover he took part in his profligacy and madness,
as was shown by that feast, which she could not forget; and he went with
others to the temples, and made offerings to vile gods, in whom he did
not believe, perhaps, but still he gave them official honor. Still more
he had pursued her to make her his slave and mistress, and at the same
time to thrust her into that terrible world of excess, luxury, crime,
and dishonor which calls for the anger and vengeance of God. He seemed
changed, it is true, but still he had just said to her that if she would
think more of Christ than of him, he was ready to hate Christ. It
seemed to Lygia that the very idea of any other love than the love of
Christ was a sin against Him and against religion. When she saw then
that other feelings and desires might be roused in the depth of her
soul, she was seized by alarm for her own future and her own heart.

At this moment of internal struggle appeared Glaucus, who had come to
care for the patient and study his health. In the twinkle of an eye,
anger and impatience were reflected on the face of Vinicius. He was
angry that his conversation with Lygia had been interrupted; and when
Glaucus questioned him, he answered with contempt almost. It is true
that he moderated himself quickly; but if Lygia had any illusions as to
this,--that what he had heard in Ostrianum might have acted on his
unyielding nature,--those illusions must vanish. He had changed only
for her; but beyond that single feeling there remained in his breast the
former harsh and selfish heart, truly Roman and wolfish, incapable not
only of the sweet sentiment of Christian teaching but even of gratitude.

She went away at last filled with internal care and anxiety. Formerly in
her prayers she had offered to Christ a heart calm, and really pure as a
tear. Now that calmness was disturbed. To the interior of the flower a
poisonous insect had come and began to buzz. Even sleep, in spite of
the two nights passed without sleep, brought her no relief. She dreamed
that at Ostrianum Nero, at the head of a whole band of Augustians,
bacchantes, corybantes, and gladiators, was trampling crowds of
Christians with his chariot wreathed in roses; and Vinicius seized her
by the arm, drew her to the quadriga, and, pressing her to his bosom,
whispered "Come with us."