Chapter VI

PETRONIUS was at home. The doorkeeper did not dare to stop Vinicius, who

burst into the atrium like a storm, and, learning that the master of

the house was in the library, he rushed into the library with the same

impetus. Finding Petronius writing, he snatched the reed from his hand,

broke it, trampled the reed on the floor, then fixed his fingers into

his shoulder, and, approaching his face to that of his uncle, asked,

with a hoarse voice,--“What hast thou done with her? Where is she?”

Suddenly an amazing thing happened. That slender and effeminate

Petronius seized the hand of the youthful athlete, which was grasping

his shoulder, then seized the other, and, holding them both in his one

hand with the grip of an iron vice, he said,--“I am incapable only in

the morning; in the evening I regain my former strength. Try to

escape. A weaver must have taught thee gymnastics, and a blacksmith thy

manners.”

On his face not even anger was evident, but in his eyes there was a

certain pale reflection of energy and daring. After a while he let

the hands of Vinicius drop. Vinicius stood before him shamefaced and

enraged.

“Thou hast a steel hand,” said he; “but if thou hast betrayed me, I

swear, by all the infernal gods, that I will thrust a knife into thy

body, though thou be in the chambers of Cæsar.”

“Let us talk calmly,” said Petronius. “Steel is stronger, as thou seest,

than iron; hence, though out of one of thy arms two as large as mine

might be made, I have no need to fear thee. On the contrary, I grieve

over thy rudeness, and if the ingratitude of men could astonish me yet,

I should be astonished at thy ingratitude.”

“Where is Lygia?”

“In a brothel,--that is, in the house of Cæsar.”

“Petronius!”

“Calm thyself, and be seated. I asked Cæsar for two things, which he

promised me,--first, to take Lygia from the house of Aulus, and second

to give her to thee. Hast thou not a knife there under the folds of thy

toga? Perhaps thou wilt stab me! But I advise thee to wait a couple of

days, for thou wouldst be taken to prison, and meanwhile Lygia would be

wearied in thy house.”

Silence followed. Vinicius looked for some time with astonished eyes on

Petronius; then he said,--“Pardon me; I love her, and love is disturbing

my faculties.”

“Look at me, Marcus. The day before yesterday I spoke to Cæsar as

follows: ‘My sister’s son, Vinicius, has so fallen in love with a lean

little girl who is being reared with the Auluses that his house is

turned into a steambath from sighs. Neither thou, O Cæsar, nor I--we who

know, each of us, what true beauty is--would give a thousand sesterces

for her; but that lad has ever been as dull as a tripod, and now he has

lost all the wit that was in him.’”

“Petronius!”

“If thou understand not that I said this to insure Lygia’s safety, I am

ready to believe that I told the truth. I persuaded Bronzebeard that a

man of his æsthetic nature could not consider such a girl beautiful; and

Nero, who so far has not dared to look otherwise than through my eyes,

will not find in her beauty, and, not finding it, will not desire her.

It was necessary to insure ourselves against the monkey and take him

on a rope. Not he, but Poppæa, will value Lygia now; and Poppæa will

strive, of course, to send the girl out of the palace at the earliest.

I said further to Bronzebeard, in passing: ‘Take Lygia and give her to

Vinicius! Thou hast the right to do so, for she is a hostage; and if

thou take her, thou wilt inflict pain on Aulus.’ He agreed; he had not

the least reason not to agree, all the more since I gave him a chance

to annoy decent people. They will make thee official guardian of the

hostage, and give into thy hands that Lygian treasure; thou, as a friend

of the valiant Lygians, and also a faithful servant of Cæsar, wilt not

waste any of the treasure, but wilt strive to increase it. Cæsar, to

preserve appearances, will keep her a few days in his house, and then

send her to thy insula. Lucky man!”

“Is this true? Does nothing threaten her there in Cæsar’s house?”

“If she had to live there permanently, Poppæa would talk about her to

Locusta, but for a few days there is no danger. Ten thousand people

live in it. Nero will not see her, perhaps, all the more since he left

everything to me, to the degree that just now the centurion was here

with information that he had conducted the maiden to the palace and

committed her to Acte. She is a good soul, that Acte; hence I gave

command to deliver Lygia to her. Clearly Pomponia Græcina is of that

opinion too, for she wrote to Acte. To-morrow there is a feast at

Nero’s. I have requested a place for thee at the side of Lygia.”

“Pardon me, Caius, my hastiness. I judged that thou hadst given command

to take her for thyself or for Cæsar.”

“I can forgive thy hastiness; but it is more difficult to forgive rude

gestures, vulgar shouts, and a voice reminding one of players at mora. I

do not like that style, Marcus, and do thou guard against it. Know that

Tigellinus is Cæsar’s pander; but know also that if I wanted the

girl for myself now, looking thee straight in the eyes, I would say,

‘Vinicius! I take Lygia from thee and I will keep her till I am tired of

her.”

Thus speaking, he began to look with his hazel eyes straight into the

eyes of Vinicius with a cold and insolent stare. The young man lost

himself completely.

“The fault is mine,” said he. “Thou art kind and worthy. I thank thee

from my whole soul. Permit me only to put one more question: Why didst

thou not have Lygia sent directly to my house?”

“Because Cæsar wishes to preserve appearances. People in Rome will talk

about this,--that we removed Lygia as a hostage. While they are talking,

she will remain in Cæsar’s palace. Afterward she will be removed quietly

to thy house, and that will be the end. Bronzebeard is a cowardly

cur. He knows that his power is unlimited, and still he tries to give

specious appearances to every act. Hast thou recovered to the degree of

being able to philosophize a little? More than once have I thought, Why

does crime, even when as powerful as Cæsar, and assured of being beyond

punishment, strive always for the appearances of truth, justice, and

virtue? Why does it take the trouble? I consider that to murder a

brother, a mother, a wife, is a thing worthy of some petty Asiatic king,

not a Roman Cæsar; but if that position were mine, I should not write

justifying letters to the Senate. But Nero writes. Nero is looking for

appearances, for Nero is a coward. But Tiberius was not a coward;

still he justified every step he took. Why is this? What a marvellous,

involuntary homage paid to virtue by evil! And knowest thou what strikes

me? This, that it is done because transgression is ugly and virtue

is beautiful. Therefore a man of genuine æsthetic feeling is also a

virtuous man. Hence I am virtuous. To-day I must pour out a little

wine to the shades of Protagoras, Prodicus, and Gorgias. It seems that

sophists too can be of service. Listen, for I am speaking yet. I took

Lygia from Aulus to give her to thee. Well. But Lysippus would have made

wonderful groups of her and thee. Ye are both beautiful; therefore my

act is beautiful, and being beautiful it cannot be bad. Marcus, here

sitting before thee is virtue incarnate in Caius Petronius! If Aristides

were living, it would be his duty to come to me and offer a hundred minæ

for a short treatise on virtue.”

But Vinicius, as a man more concerned with reality than with treatises

on virtue, replied,--“To-morrow I shall see Lygia, and then have her in

my house daily, always, and till death.”

“Thou wilt have Lygia, and I shall have Aulus on my head. He will summon

the vengeance of all the infernal gods against me. And if the beast

would take at least a preliminary lesson in good declamation! He will

blame me, however, as my former doorkeeper blamed my clients but him I

sent to prison in the country.”

“Aulus has been at my house. I promised to give him news of Lygia.”

“Write to him that the will of the ‘divine’ Cæsar is the highest law,

and that thy first son will bear the name Aulus. It is necessary that

the old man should have some consolation. I am ready to pray Bronzebeard

to invite him to-morrow to the feast. Let him see thee in the triclinium

next to Lygia.”

“Do not do that. I am sorry for them, especially for Pomponia.”

And he sat down to write that letter which took from the old general the

remnant of his hope.