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 passed 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 Volaterræ and

Cæcina.

“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, Poppæa will believe, and

will persuade Cæsar, 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,--“Poppæa, it is said,

follows the religion of the Jews, and believes in evil spirits. Cæsar

is superstitious. If we spread the report that evil spirits carried off

Lygia, the news will find belief, especially as neither Cæsar 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 ægis of Zeus that he saw

them.”

Vinicius, who was superstitious 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 gods. 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.”

“But who could help her?”

“Her co-religionists,” answered Petronius.

“Who are they? What deity does she worship? I ought to know that better

than thou.”

“Nearly every woman in Rome honors a different one. It is almost beyond

doubt that Pomponia reared her in the religion of that deity which

she herself worships; what one she worships I know not. One thing is

certain, that no person has seen her make an offering to our gods in any

temple. They have accused her even of being a Christian; but that is not

possible; a domestic tribunal cleared her of the charge. They say that

Christians not only worship an ass’s head, but are enemies of the human

race, and permit the foulest crimes. Pomponia cannot be a Christian,

as her virtue is known, and an enemy of the human race could not treat

slaves as she does.”

“In no house are they treated as at Aulus’s,” interrupted Vinicius.

“Ah! Pomponia mentioned to me some god, who must be one powerful and

merciful. Where she has put away all the others is her affair; it is

enough that that Logos of hers cannot be very mighty, or rather he must

be a very weak god, since he has had only two adherents,--Pomponia and

Lygia,--and Ursus in addition. It must be that there are more of those

adherents, and that they assisted Lygia.”

“That faith commands forgiveness,” said Vinicius. “At Acte’s I met

Pomponia, who said to me: ‘May God forgive thee the evil which thou hast

done to us and to Lygia.’”

“Evidently their God is some curator who is very mild. Ha! let him

forgive thee, and in sign of forgiveness return thee the maiden.”

“I would offer him a hecatomb to-morrow! I have no wish for food, or the

bath, or sleep. I will take a dark lantern and wander through the city.

Perhaps I shall find her in disguise. I am sick.”

Petronius looked at him with commiseration. In fact, there was blue

under his eyes, his pupils were gleaming with fever, his unshaven beard

indicated a dark strip on his firmly outlined jaws, his hair was in

disorder, and he was really like a sick man. Iras and the golden-haired

Eunice looked at him also with sympathy; but he seemed not to see them,

and he and Petronius took no notice whatever of the slave women, just as

they would not have noticed dogs moving around them.

“Fever is tormenting thee,” said Petronius.

“It is.”

“Then listen to me. I know not what the doctor has prescribed to thee,

but I know how I should act in thy place. Till this lost one is found I

should seek in another that which for the moment has gone from me with

her. I saw splendid forms at thy villa. Do not contradict me. I know

what love is; and I know that when one is desired another cannot

take her place. But in a beautiful slave it is possible to find even

momentary distraction.”

“I do not need it,” said Vinicius.

But Petronius, who had for him a real weakness, and who wished to soften

his pain, began to meditate how he might do so.

“Perhaps thine have not for thee the charm of novelty,” said he, after a

while (and here he began to look in turn at Iras and Eunice, and finally

he placed his palm on the hip of the golden-haired Eunice). “Look

at this grace! for whom some days since Fonteius Capiton the younger

offered three wonderful boys from Clazomene. A more beautiful figure

than hers even Skopas himself has not chiselled. I myself cannot tell

why I have remained indifferent to her thus far, since thoughts of

Chrysothemis have not restrained me. Well, I give her to thee; take her

for thyself!”

When the golden-haired Eunice heard this, she grew pale in one moment,

and, looking with frightened eyes on Vinicius, seemed to wait for his

answer without breath in her breast.

But he sprang up suddenly, and, pressing his temples with his hands,

said quickly, like a man who is tortured by disease, and will not hear

anything,--“No, no! I care not for her! I care not for others! I thank

thee, but I do not want her. I will seek that one through the city. Give

command to bring me a Gallic cloak with a hood. I will go beyond the

Tiber--if I could see even Ursus.”

And he hurried away. Petronius, seeing that he could not remain in one

place, did not try to detain him. Taking, however, his refusal as a

temporary dislike for all women save Lygia, and not wishing his own

magnanimity to go for naught, he said, turning to the slave,--“Eunice,

thou wilt bathe and anoint thyself, then dress: after that thou wilt go

to the house of Vinicius.”

But she dropped before him on her knees, and with joined palms implored

him not to remove her from the house. She would not go to Vinicius, she

said. She would rather carry fuel to the hypocaustum in his house than

be chief servant in that of Vinicius. She would not, she could not go;

and she begged him to have pity on her. Let him give command to flog her

daily, only not send her away.

And trembling like a leaf with fear and excitement, she stretched her

hands to him, while he listened with amazement. A slave who ventured to

beg relief from the fulfilment of a command, who said “I will not and

I cannot,” was something so unheard-of in Rome that Petronius could not

believe his own ears at first. Finally he frowned. He was too refined

to be cruel. His slaves, especially in the department of pleasure,

were freer than others, on condition of performing their service in an

exemplary manner, and honoring the will of their master, like that of a

god. In case they failed in these two respects, he was able not to spare

punishment, to which, according to general custom, they were subject.

Since, besides this, he could not endure opposition, nor anything which

ruffled his calmness, he looked for a while at the kneeling girl, and

then said,--“Call Tiresias, and return with him.”

Eunice rose, trembling, with tears in her eyes, and went out; after a

time she returned with the chief of the atrium, Tiresias, a Cretan.

“Thou wilt take Eunice,” said Petronius, “and give her five-and-twenty

lashes, in such fashion, however, as not to harm her skin.”

When he had said this, he passed into the library, and, sitting down

at a table of rose-colored marble, began to work on his “Feast of

Trimalchion.” But the flight of Lygia and the illness of the infant

Augusta had disturbed his mind so much that he could not work long. That

illness, above all, was important. It occurred to Petronius that

were Cæsar to believe that Lygia had cast spells on the infant, the

responsibility might fall on him also, for the girl had been brought

at his request to the palace. But he could reckon on this, that at the

first interview with Cæsar he would be able in some way to show the

utter absurdity of such an idea; he counted a little, too, on a certain

weakness which Poppæa had for him,--a weakness hidden carefully, it is

true, but not so carefully that he could not divine it. After a while

he shrugged his shoulders at these fears, and decided to go to the

triclinium to strengthen himself, and then order the litter to bear him

once more to the palace, after that to the Campus Martius, and then to

Chrysothemis.

But on the way to the triclinium at the entrance to the corridor

assigned to servants, he saw unexpectedly the slender form of Eunice

standing, among other slaves, at the wall; and forgetting that he had

given Tiresias no order beyond flogging her, he wrinkled his brow again,

and looked around for the atriensis. Not seeing him among the servants,

he turned to Eunice.

“Hast thou received the lashes?”

She cast herself at his feet a second time, pressed the border of his

toga to her lips, and said,--“Oh, yes, lord, I have received them! Oh,

yes, lord!” In her voice were heard, as it were, joy and gratitude. It

was clear that she looked on the lashes as a substitute for her removal

from the house, and that now she might stay there. Petronius, who

understood this, wondered at the passionate resistance of the girl; but

he was too deeply versed in human nature not to know that love alone

could call forth such resistance.

“Dost thou love some one in this house?” asked he.

She raised her blue, tearful eyes to him, and answered, in a voice so

low that it was hardly possible to hear her,--“Yes, lord.”

And with those eyes, with that golden hair thrown back, with fear

and hope in her face, she was so beautiful, she looked at him so

entreatingly, that Petronius, who, as a philosopher, had proclaimed the

might of love, and who, as a man of æsthetic nature, had given homage to

all beauty, felt for her a certain species of compassion.

“Whom of those dost thou love?” inquired he, indicating the servants

with his head.

There was no answer to that question. Eunice inclined her head to his

feet and remained motionless.

Petronius looked at the slaves, among whom were beautiful and stately

youths. He could read nothing on any face; on the contrary, all had

certain strange smiles. He looked then for a while on Eunice lying at

his feet, and went in silence to the triclinium.

After he had eaten, he gave command to bear him to the palace, and then

to Chrysothemis, with whom he remained till late at night. But when he

returned, he gave command to call Tiresias.

“Did Eunice receive the flogging?” inquired he.

“She did, lord. Thou didst not let the skin be cut, however.”

“Did I give no other command touching her?”

“No, lord,” answered the atriensis with alarm.

“That is well. Whom of the slaves does she love?”

“No one, lord.”

“What dost thou know of her?”

Tiresias began to speak in a somewhat uncertain voice:

“At night Eunice never leaves the cubiculum in which she lives with

old Acrisiona and Ifida; after thou art dressed she never goes to the

bath-rooms. Other slaves ridicule her, and call her Diana.”

“Enough,” said Petronius. “My relative, Vinicius, to whom I offered her

to-day, did not accept her; hence she may stay in the house. Thou art

free to go.”

“Is it permitted me to speak more of Eunice, lord?”

“I have commanded thee to say all thou knowest.”

“The whole familia are speaking of the flight of the maiden who was to

dwell in the house of the noble Vinicius. After thy departure, Eunice

came to me and said that she knew a man who could find her.”

“Ah! What kind of man is he?”

“I know not, lord; but I thought that I ought to inform thee of this

matter.”

“That is well. Let that man wait to-morrow in my house for the arrival

of the tribune, whom thou wilt request in my name to meet me here.”

The atriensis bowed and went out. But Petronius began to think of

Eunice. At first it seemed clear to him that the young slave wished

Vinicius to find Lygia for this reason only, that she would not be

forced from his house. Afterward, however, it occurred to him that the

man whom Eunice was pushing forward might be her lover, and all at once

that thought seemed to him disagreeable. There was, it is true, a simple

way of learning the truth, for it was enough to summon Eunice; but

the hour was late, Petronius felt tired after his long visit with

Chrysothemis, and was in a hurry to sleep. But on the way to the

cubiculum he remembered--it is unknown why--that he had noticed

wrinkles, that day, in the corners of Chrysothemis’s eyes. He thought,

also, that her beauty was more celebrated in Rome than it deserved; and

that Fonteius Capiton, who had offered him three boys from Clazomene for

Eunice, wanted to buy her too cheaply.