Part 7 (1/2)
”Listen to me, Marcus. Yesterday Lygia and I were in the gardens here, and we met Poppaea, with the infant Augusta, borne by an African woman, Lilith. In the evening the child fell ill, and Lilith insists that she was bewitched; that that foreign woman whom they met in the garden bewitched her. Should the child recover, they will forget this, but in the opposite case Poppaea will be the first to accuse Lygia of witchcraft, and wherever she is found there will be no rescue for her.”
A moment of silence followed; then Vinicius said,--”But perhaps she did bewitch her, and has bewitched me.”
”Lilith repeats that the child began to cry the moment she carried her past us. And really the child did begin to cry. It is certain that she was sick when they took her out of the garden. Marcus, seek for Lygia whenever it may please thee, but till the infant Augusta recovers, speak not of her to Caesar, or thou wilt bring on her Poppaea's vengeance. Her eyes have wept enough because of thee already, and may all the G.o.ds guard her poor head.”
”Dost thou love her, Acte?” inquired Vinicius, gloomily.
”Yes, I love her.” And tears glittered in the eyes of the freedwoman.
”Thou lovest her because she has not repaid thee with hatred, as she has me.”
Acte looked at him for a time as if hesitating, or as if wis.h.i.+ng to learn if he spoke sincerely; then she said,--”O blind and pa.s.sionate man--she loved thee.”
Vinicius sprang up under the influence of those words, as if possessed. ”It is not true.”
She hated him. How could Acte know? Would Lygia make a confession to her after one day's acquaintance? What love is that which prefers wandering, the disgrace of poverty, the uncertainty of to-morrow, or a shameful death even, to a wreath-bedecked house, in which a lover is waiting with a feast? It is better for him not to hear such things, for he is ready to go mad. He would not have given that girl for all Caesar's treasures, and she fled. What kind of love is that which dreads delight and gives pain? Who can understand it? Who can fathom it? Were it not for the hope that he should find her, he would sink a sword in himself. Love surrenders; it does not take away. There were moments at the house of Aulus when he himself believed in near happiness, but now he knows that she hated him, that she hates him, and will die with hatred in her heart.
But Acte, usually mild and timid, burst forth in her turn with indignation. How had he tried to win Lygia? Instead of bowing before Aulus and Pomponia to get her, he took the child away from her parents by stratagem. He wanted to make, not a wife, but a concubine of her, the foster daughter of an honorable house, and the daughter of a king. He had her brought to this abode of crime and infamy; he defiled her innocent eyes with the sight of a shameful feast; he acted with her as with a wanton. Had he forgotten the house of Aulus and Pomponia Graecina, who had reared Lygia? Had he not sense enough to understand that there are women different from Nigidia or Calvia Crispinilla or Poppaea, and from all those whom he meets in Caesar's house? Did he not understand at once on seeing Lygia that she is an honest maiden, who prefers death to infamy? Whence does he know what kind of G.o.ds she wors.h.i.+ps, and whether they are not purer and better than the wanton Venus, or than Isis, wors.h.i.+pped by the profligate women of Rome? No! Lygia had made no confession to her, but she had said that she looked for rescue to him, to Vinicius: she had hoped that he would obtain for her permission from Caesar to return home, that he would restore her to Pomponia. And while speaking of this, Lygia blushed like a maiden who loves and trusts. Lygia's heart beat for him; but he, Vinicius, had terrified and offended her; had made her indignant; let him seek her now with the aid of Caesar's soldiers, but let him know that should Poppaea's child die, suspicion will fall on Lygia, whose destruction will then be inevitable.
Emotion began to force its way through the anger and pain of Vinicius. The information that he was loved by Lygia shook him to the depth of his soul. He remembered her in Aulus's garden, when she was listening to his words with blushes on her face and her eyes full of light. It seemed to him then that she had begun to love him; and all at once, at that thought, a feeling of certain happiness embraced him, a hundred times greater than that which he desired. He thought that he might have won her gradually, and besides as one loving him. She would have wreathed his door, rubbed it with wolf's fat, and then sat as his wife by his hearth on the sheepskin. He would have heard from her mouth the sacramental: ”Where thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.” And she would have been his forever. Why did he not act thus? True, he had been ready so to act. But now she is gone, and it may be impossible to find her; and should he find her, perhaps he will cause her death, and should he not cause her death, neither she nor Aulus nor Pomponia Graecina will favor him. Here anger raised the hair on his head again; but his anger turned now, not against the house of Aulus, or Lygia, but against Petronius. Petronius was to blame for everything. Had it not been for him Lygia would not have been forced to wander; she would be his betrothed, and no danger would be hanging over her dear head. But now all is past, and it is too late to correct the evil which will not yield to correction.
”Too late!” And it seemed to him that a gulf had opened before his feet. He did not know what to begin, how to proceed, whither to betake himself. Acte repeated as an echo the words, ”Too late,” which from another's mouth sounded like a death sentence. He understood one thing, however, that he must find Lygia, or something evil would happen to him.
And wrapping himself mechanically in his toga, he was about to depart without taking farewell even of Acte, when suddenly the curtain separating the entrance from the atrium was pushed aside, and he saw before him the pensive figure of Pomponia Graecina.
Evidently she too had heard of the disappearance of Lygia, and, judging that she could see Acte more easily than Aulus, had come for news to her.
But, seeing Vinicius, she turned her pale, delicate face to him, and said, after a pause,--”May G.o.d forgive thee the wrong, Marcus, which thou hast done to us and to Lygia.”
He stood with drooping head, with a feeling of misfortune and guilt, not understanding what G.o.d was to forgive him or could forgive him. Pomponia had no cause to mention forgiveness; she ought to have spoken of revenge.
At last he went out with a head devoid of counsel, full of grievous thoughts, immense care, and amazement.
In the court and under the gallery were crowds of anxious people. Among slaves of the palace were knights and senators who had come to inquire about the health of the infant, and at the same time to show themselves in the palace, and exhibit a proof of their anxiety, even in presence of Nero's slaves. News of the illness of the ”divine” had spread quickly it was evident, for new forms appeared in the gateway every moment, and through the opening of the arcade whole crowds were visible. Some of the newly arrived, seeing that Vinicius was coming from the palace, attacked him for news; but he hurried on without answering their questions, till Petronius, who had come for news too, almost struck his breast and stopped him.
Beyond doubt Vinicius would have become enraged at sight of Petronius, and let himself do some lawless act in Caesar's palace, had it not been that when he had left Acte he was so crushed, so weighed down and exhausted, that for the moment even his innate irascibility had left him. He pushed Petronius aside and wished to pa.s.s; but the other detained him, by force almost.
”How is the divine infant?” asked he.
But this constraint angered Vinicius a second time, and roused his indignation in an instant.
”May Hades swallow her and all this house!” said he, gritting his teeth.
”Silence, hapless man!” said Petronius, and looking around he added hurriedly,--”If thou wish to know something of Lygia, come with me; I will tell nothing here! Come with me; I will tell my thoughts in the litter.”
And putting his arm around the young tribune, he conducted him from the palace as quickly as possible. That was his main concern, for he had no news whatever; but being a man of resources, and having, in spite of his indignation of yesterday, much sympathy for Vinicius, and finally feeling responsible for all that had happened, he had undertaken something already, and when they entered the litter he said,--”I have commanded my slaves to watch at every gate. I gave them an accurate description of the girl, and that giant who bore her from the feast at Caesar's,--for he is the man, beyond doubt, who intercepted her. Listen to me: Perhaps Aulus and Pomponia wish to secrete her in some estate of theirs; in that case we shall learn the direction in which they took her. If my slaves do not see her at some gate, we shall know that she is in the city yet, and shall begin this very day to search in Rome for her.”
”Aulus does not know where she is,” answered Vinicius.
”Art thou sure of that?”
”I saw Pomponia. She too is looking for her.”
”She could not leave the city yesterday, for the gates are closed at night. Two of my people are watching at each gate. One is to follow Lygia and the giant, the other to return at once and inform me. If she is in the city, we shall find her, for that Lygian is easily recognized, even by his stature and his shoulders. Thou art lucky that it was not Caesar who took her, and I can a.s.sure thee that he did not, for there are no secrets from me on the Palatine.”
But Vinicius burst forth in sorrow still more than in anger, and in a voice broken by emotion told Petronius what he had heard from Acte, and what new dangers were threatening Lygia,--dangers so dreadful that because of them there would be need to hide her from Poppaea most carefully, in case they discovered her. Then he reproached Petronius bitterly for his counsel. Had it not been for him, everything would have gone differently. Lygia would have been at the house of Aulus, and he, Vinicius, might have seen her every day, and he would have been happier at that moment than Caesar. And carried away as he went on with his narrative, he yielded more and more to emotion, till at last tears of sorrow and rage began to fall from his eyes.
Petronius, who had not even thought that the young man could love and desire to such a degree, when he saw the tears of despair said to himself, with a certain astonishment,--”O mighty Lady of Cyprus, thou alone art ruler of G.o.ds and men!”
Chapter XII.
WHEN they alighted in front of the arbiter's house, the chief of the atrium answered them that of slaves sent to the gates none had returned yet. The atriensis had given orders to take food to them, and a new command, that under penalty of rods they were to watch carefully all who left the city.
”Thou seest,” said Petronius, ”that they are in Rome, beyond doubt, and in that case we shall find them. But command thy people also to watch at the gates,--those, namely, who were sent for Lygia, as they will recognize her easily.”
”I have given orders to send them to rural prisons,” said Vinicius, ”but I will recall the orders at once, and let them go to the gates.”
And writing a few words on a wax-covered tablet, he handed it to Petronius, who gave directions to send it at once to the house of Vinicius. Then they pa.s.sed into the interior portico, and, sitting on a marble bench, began to talk. The golden-haired Eunice and Iras pushed bronze footstools under their feet, and poured wine for them into goblets, out of wonderful narrow-necked pitchers from Volaterrae and Caecina.
”Hast thou among thy people any one who knows that giant Lygian?” asked Petronius.
”Atacinus and Gulo knew him; but Atacinus fell yesterday at the litter, and Gulo I killed.”
”I am sorry for him,” said Petronius. ”He carried not only thee, but me, in his arms.”
”I intended to free him,” answered Vinicius; ”but do not mention him. Let us speak of Lygia. Rome is a sea-”
”A sea is just the place where men fish for pearls. Of course we shall not find her to-day, or to-morrow, but we shall find her surely. Thou hast accused me just now of giving thee this method; but the method was good in itself, and became bad only when turned to bad. Thou hast heard from Aulus himself, that he intends to go to Sicily with his whole family. In that case the girl would be far from thee.”
”I should follow them,” said Vinicius, ”and in every case she would be out of danger; but now, if that child dies, Poppaea will believe, and will persuade Caesar, that she died because of Lygia.”
”True; that alarmed me, too. But that little doll may recover. Should she die, we shall find some way of escape.”
Here Petronius meditated a while and added,--”Poppaea, it is said, follows the religion of the Jews, and believes in evil spirits. Caesar is superst.i.tious. If we spread the report that evil spirits carried off Lygia, the news will find belief, especially as neither Caesar nor Aulus Plautius intercepted her; her escape was really mysterious. The Lygian could not have effected it alone; he must have had help. And where could a slave find so many people in the course of one day?”
”Slaves help one another in Rome.”
”Some person pays for that with blood at times. True, they support one another, but not some against others. In this case it was known that responsibility and punishment would fall on thy people. If thou give thy people the idea of evil spirits, they will say at once that they saw such with their own eyes, because that will justify them in thy sight. Ask one of them, as a test, if he did not see spirits carrying off Lygia through the air, he will swear at once by the aegis of Zeus that he saw them.”
Vinicius, who was superst.i.tious also, looked at Petronius with sudden and great fear.
”If Ursus could not have men to help him, and was not able to take her alone, who could take her?”
Petronius began to laugh.
”See,” said he, ”they will believe, since thou art half a believer thyself. Such is our society, which ridicules the G.o.ds. They, too, will believe, and they will not look for her. Meanwhile we shall put her away somewhere far off from the city, in some villa of mine or thine.”