Chapter XXXIV

WHILE walking with Lygia through the garden, Vinicius described briefly,

in words from the depth of his heart, that which a short time before

he had confessed to the Apostles,--that is, the alarm of his soul,

the changes which had taken place in him, and, finally, that immense

yearning which had veiled life from him, beginning with the hour when

he left Miriam’s dwelling. He confessed to Lygia that he had tried to

forget her, but was not able. He thought whole days and nights of her.

That little cross of boxwood twigs which she had left reminded him

of her,--that cross, which he had placed in the lararium and revered

involuntarily as something divine. And he yearned more and more

every moment, for love was stronger than he, and had seized his soul

altogether, even when he was at the house of Aulus. The Parcæ weave the

thread of life for others; but love, yearning, and melancholy had woven

it for him. His acts had been evil, but they had their origin in love.

He had loved her when she was in the house of Aulus, when she was on the

Palatine, when he saw her in Ostrianum listening to Peter’s words, when

he went with Croton to carry her away, when she watched at his bedside,

and when she deserted him. Then came Chilo, who discovered her dwelling,

and advised him to seize her a second time; but he chose to punish

Chilo, and go to the Apostles to ask for truth and for her. And blessed

be that moment in which such a thought came to his head, for now he is

at her side, and she will not flee from him, as the last time she fled

from the house of Miriam.

“I did not flee from thee,” said Lygia.

“Then why didst thou go?”

She raised her iris-colored eyes to him, and, bending her blushing face,

said,--“Thou knowest--”

Vinicius was silent for a moment from excess of happiness, and began

again to speak, as his eyes were opened gradually to this,--that she

was different utterly from Roman women, and resembled Pomponia alone.

Besides, he could not explain this to her clearly, for he could not

define his feeling,--that beauty of a new kind altogether was coming

to the world in her, such beauty as had not been in it thus far; beauty

which is not merely a statue, but a spirit. He told her something,

however, which filled her with delight,--that he loved her just because

she had fled from him, and that she would be sacred to him at his

hearth. Then, seizing her hand, he could not continue; he merely gazed

on her with rapture as on his life’s happiness which he had won, and

repeated her name, as if to assure himself that he had found her and was

near her.

“Oh, Lygia, Lygia!”

At last he inquired what had taken place in her mind, and she confessed

that she had loved him while in the house of Aulus, and that if he had

taken her back to them from the Palatine she would have told them of her

love and tried to soften their anger against him.

“I swear to thee,” said Vinicius, “that it had not even risen in my mind

to take thee from Aulus. Petronius will tell thee sometime that I told

him then how I loved and wished to marry thee. ‘Let her anoint my door

with wolf fat, and let her sit at my hearth,’ said I to him. But he

ridiculed me, and gave Cæsar the idea of demanding thee as a hostage and

giving thee to me. How often in my sorrow have I cursed him; but

perhaps fate ordained thus, for otherwise I should not have known the

Christians, and should not have understood thee.”

“Believe me, Marcus,” replied Lygia, “it was Christ who led thee to

Himself by design.”

Vinicius raised his head with a certain astonishment.

“True,” answered he, with animation. “Everything fixed itself so

marvellously that in seeking thee I met the Christians. In Ostrianum I

listened to the Apostle with wonder, for I had never heard such words.

And there thou didst pray for me?”

“I did,” answered Lygia.

They passed near the summer-house covered with thick ivy, and approached

the place where Ursus, after stifling Croton, threw himself upon

Vinicius.

“Here,” said the young man, “I should have perished but for thee.”

“Do not mention that,” answered Lygia, “and do not speak of it to

Ursus.”

“Could I be revenged on him for defending thee? Had he been a slave, I

should have given him freedom straightway.”

“Had he been a slave, Aulus would have freed him long ago.”

“Dost thou remember,” asked Vinicius, “that I wished to take thee back

to Aulus, but the answer was, that Cæsar might hear of it and take

revenge on Aulus and Pomponia? Think of this: thou mayst see them now as

often as thou wishest.”

“How, Marcus?”

“I say ‘now,’ and I think that thou wilt be able to see them without

danger, when thou art mine. For should Cæsar hear of this, and ask what

I did with the hostage whom he gave me, I should say ‘I married her, and

she visits the house of Aulus with my consent.’ He will not remain long

in Antium, for he wishes to go to Achæa; and even should he remain, I

shall not need to see him daily. When Paul of Tarsus teaches me your

faith, I will receive baptism at once, I will come here, gain the

friendship of Aulus and Pomponia, who will return to the city by that

time, and there will be no further hindrance, I will seat thee at my

hearth. Oh, carissima! carissima!”

And he stretched forth his hand, as if taking Heaven as witness of his

love; and Lygia, raising her clear eyes to him, said,--

“And then I shall say, ‘Wherever thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.’”

“No, Lygia,” cried Vinicius, “I swear to thee that never has woman been

so honored in the house of her husband as thou shalt be in mine.”

For a time they walked on in silence, without being able to take in

with their breasts their happiness, in love with each other, like two

deities, and as beautiful as if spring had given them to the world with

the flowers.

They halted at last under the cypress growing near the entrance of the

house. Lygia leaned against his breast, and Vinicius began to entreat

again with a trembling voice,--“Tell Ursus to go to the house of Aulus

for thy furniture and playthings of childhood.”

But she, blushing like a rose or like the dawn, answered,--“Custom

commands otherwise.”

“I know that. The pronuba [The matron who accompanies the bride and

explains to her the duties of a wife] usually brings them behind the

bride, but do this for me. I will take them to my villa in Antium, and

they will remind me of thee.”

Here he placed his hands together and repeated, like a child who is

begging for something,--“It will be some days before Pomponia returns;

so do this, diva, do this, carissima.”

“But Pomponia will do as she likes,” answered Lygia, blushing still more

deeply at mention of the pronuba.

And again they were silent, for love had begun to stop the breath in

their breasts. Lygia stood with shoulders leaning against the cypress,

her face whitening in the shadow, like a flower, her eyes drooping, her

bosom heaving with more and more life. Vinicius changed in the face, and

grew pale. In the silence of the afternoon they only heard the beating

of their hearts, and in their mutual ecstasy that cypress, the myrtle

bushes, and the ivy of the summer-house became for them a paradise of

love. But Miriam appeared in the door, and invited them to the afternoon

meal. They sat down then with the Apostles, who gazed at them with

pleasure, as on the young generation which after their death would

preserve and sow still further the seed of the new faith. Peter broke

and blessed bread. There was calm on all faces, and a certain immense

happiness seemed to overflow the whole house.

“See,” said Paul at last, turning to Vinicius, “are we enemies of life

and happiness?”

“I know how that is,” answered Vinicius, “for never have I been so happy

as among you.”