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Home -> Henryk Sienkiewicz -> Quo Vadis -> Chapter XLII

Quo Vadis - Chapter XLII

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter II

3. Chapter III

4. Chapter IV

5. Chapter V

6. Chapter VI

7. Chapter VII

8. Chapter VIII

9. Chapter IX

10. Chapter X

11. Chapter XI

12. Chapter XII

13. Chapter XIII

14. Chapter XIV

15. Chapter XV

16. Chapter XVI

17. Chapter XVII

18. Chapter XVIII

19. Chapter XIX

20. Chapter XX

21. Chapter XXI

22. Chapter XXII

23. Chapter XXIII

24. Chapter XXIV

25. Chapter XXV

26. Chapter XXVI

27. Chapter XXVII

28. Chapter XXVIII

29. Chapter XXIX

30. Chapter XXX

31. Chapter XXXI

32. Chapter XXXII

33. Chapter XXXIII

34. Chapter XXXIV

35. Chapter XXXV

36. Chapter XXXVI

37. Chapter XXXVII

38. Chapter XXXVIII

39. Chapter XXXIX

40. Chapter XL

41. Chapter XLI

42. Chapter XLII

43. Chapter XLIII

44. Chapter XLIV

45. Chapter XLV

46. Chapter XLVI

47. Chapter XLVII

48. Chapter XLVIII

49. Chapter XLIX

50. Chapter L

51. Chapter LI

52. Chapter LII

53. Chapter LIII

54. Chapter LIV

55. Chapter LV

56. Chapter LVI

57. Chapter LVII

58. Chapter LVIII

59. Chapter LIX

60. Chapter LX

61. Chapter LXI

62. Chapter LXII

63. Chapter LXIII

64. Chapter LXIV

65. Chapter LXV

66. Chapter LXVI

67. Chapter LXVII

68. Chapter LXVIII

69. Chapter LXIX

70. Chapter LXX

71. Chapter LXXI

72. Chapter LXXII

73. Chapter LXXIII

74. Epilogue







Chapter XLII

VINICIUS had barely time to command a few slaves to follow him; then,
springing on his horse, he rushed forth in the deep night along the
empty streets toward Laurentum. Through the influence of the dreadful
news he had fallen as it were into frenzy and mental distraction. At
moments he did not know clearly what was happening in his mind; he had
merely the feeling that misfortune was on the horse with him, sitting
behind his shoulders, and shouting in his ears, "Rome is burning!" that
it was lashing his horse and him, urging them toward the fire. Laying
his bare head on the beast's neck, he rushed on, in his single tunic,
alone, at random, not looking ahead, and taking no note of obstacles
against which he might perchance dash himself.

In silence and in that calm night, the rider and the horse, covered with
gleams of the moon, seemed like dream visions. The Idumean stallion,
dropping his ears and stretching his neck, shot on like an arrow past
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 on-rushing 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 perish, and the world-ruling city be swept from the face of the
earth with its inhabitants. Even in captured places, where fire and
slaughter rage together, some people survive in all cases; why, then,
should Lygia perish of a certainty? On the contrary, God watches over
her, He who Himself, conquered death." Thus reasoning, he began to pray
again, and, yielding to fixed habit, he made great vows to Christ, with
promises of gifts and sacrifices. After he had hurried through Albanum,
nearly all of whose inhabitants were on roofs and on trees to look at
Rome, he grew somewhat calm, and regained his cool blood. He
remembered, too, that Lygia was protected not only by Ursus and Linus,
but by the Apostle Peter. At the mere remembrance of this, fresh solace
entered his heart. For him Peter was an incomprehensible, an almost
superhuman being. From the time when he heard him at Ostrianum, a
wonderful impression clung to him, touching which he had written to
Lygia at the beginning of his stay in Antium,--that every word of the
old man was true, or would show its truth hereafter. The nearer
acquaintance which during his illness he had formed with the Apostle
heightened the impression, which was turned afterward into fixed faith.
Since Peter had blessed his love and promised him Lygia, Lygia could not
perish in the flames. The city might burn, but no spark from the fire
would fall on her garments. Under the influence of a sleepless night,
mad riding, and impressions, a wonderful exaltation possessed the young
tribune; in this exaltation all things seemed possible: Peter speaks to
the flame, opens it with a word, and they pass uninjured through an
alley of fire. Moreover, Peter saw future events; hence, beyond doubt,
he foresaw the fire, and in that ease how could he fail to warn and lead
forth the Christians from the city, and among others Lygia, whom he
loved, as he might his own child? And a hope, which was strengthening
every moment, entered the heart of Vinicius. If they were fleeing from
the city, he might find them in Bovillæ, or meet them on the road. The
beloved face might appear any moment from out the smoke, which was
stretching more widely over all the Campania.

This seemed to him more likely, since he met increasing numbers of
people, who had deserted the city and were going to the Alban Hills;
they had escaped the fire, and wished to go beyond the line of smoke.
Before he had reached Ustrinum he had to slacken his pace because of the
throng. Besides pedestrians with bundles on their backs, he met horses
with packs, mules and vehicles laden with effects, and finally litters
in which slaves were bearing the wealthier citizens. Ustrinum was so
thronged with fugitives from Rome that it was difficult to push through
the crowd. On the market square, under temple porticos, and on the
streets were swarms of fugitives. Here and there people were erecting
tents under which whole families were to find shelter. Others settled
down under the naked sky, shouting, calling on the gods, or cursing the
fates. In the general terror it was difficult to inquire about
anything. People to whom Vinicius applied either did not answer, or
with eyes half bewildered from terror answered that the city and the
world were perishing. New crowds of men, women, and children arrived
from the direction of Rome every moment; these increased the disorder
and outcry. Some, gone astray in the throng, sought desperately those
whom they had lost; others fought for a camping-place. Half-wild
shepherds from the Campania crowded to the town to hear news, or find
profit in plunder made easy by the uproar. Here and there crowds of
slaves of every nationality and gladiators fell to robbing houses and
villas in the town, and to fighting with the soldiers who appeared in
defence of the citizens.

Junius, a senator, whom Vinicius saw at the inn surrounded by a
detachment of Batavian slaves, was the first to give more detailed news
of the conflagration. The fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, in the
part which touches the Palatine and the Cælian Hill, but extended with
incomprehensible rapidity and seized the whole centre of the city.
Never since the time of Brennus had such an awful catastrophe come upon
Rome. "The entire Circus has burnt, as well as the shops and houses
surrounding it," said Junius; "the Aventine and Cælian Hills are on
fire. The flames surrounding the Palatine have reached the Carinæ."

Here Junius, who possessed on the Carinæ a magnificent "insula," filled
with works of art which he loved, seized a handful of foul dust, and,
scattering it on his head, began to groan despairingly.

But Vinicius shook him by the shoulder: "My house too is on the Carinæ,"
said he; "but when everything is perishing, let it perish also."

Then recollecting that at his advice Lygia might have gone to the house
of Aulus, he inquired,--

"But the Vicus Patricius?"

"On fire!" replied Junius.

"The Trans-Tiber?"

Junius looked at him with amazement.

"Never mind the Trans-Tiber," said he, pressing his aching temples with
his palms.

"The Trans-Tiber is more important to me than all other parts of Rome,"
cried Vinicius, with vehemence.

"The way is through the Via Portuensis, near the Aventine; but the heat
will stifle thee. The Trans-Tiber? I know not. The fire had not
reached it; but whether it is not there at this moment the gods alone
know." Here Junius hesitated a moment, then said in a low voice: "I
know that thou wilt not betray me, so I will tell thee that this is no
common fire. People were not permitted to save the Circus. When houses
began to burn in every direction, I myself heard thousands of voices
exclaiming, 'Death to those who save!' Certain people ran through the
city and hurled burning torches into buildings. On the other hand
people are revolting, and crying that the city is burning at command. I
can say nothing more. Woe to the city, woe to us all, and to me! The
tongue of man cannot tell what is happening there. People are perishing
in flames or slaying one another in the throng. This is the end of
Rome!"

And again he fell to repeating, "Woe! Woe to the city and to us!"
Vinicius sprang to his horse, and hurried forward along the Appian Way.
But now it was rather a struggling through the midst of a river of
people and vehicles, which was flowing from the city. The city,
embraced by a monstrous conflagration, lay before Vinicius as a thing on
the palm of his hand. From the sea of fire and smoke came a terrible
heat, and the uproar of people could not drown the roar and the hissing
of flames.




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