Quo Vadis | Page 2

weather, and then about gems which the jeweller Idomeneus
had promised to send him for examination that day. It appeared that the
weather was beautiful, with a light breeze from the Alban hills, and that
the gems had not been brought. Petronius closed his eyes again, and
had given command to bear him to the tepidarium, when from behind
the curtain the nomenclator looked in, announcing that young Marcus
Vinicius, recently returned from Asia Minor, had come to visit him.
Petronius ordered to admit the guest to the tepidarium, to which he was
borne himself. Vinicius was the son of his oldest sister, who years

before had married Marcus Vinicius, a man of consular dignity from
the time of Tiberius. The young man was serving then under Corbulo
against the Parthians, and at the close of the war had returned to the city.
Petronius had for him a certain weakness bordering on attachment, for
Marcus was beautiful and athletic, a young man who knew how to
preserve a certain aesthetic measure in his profligacy; this, Petronius
prized above everything.
"A greeting to Petronius," said the young man, entering the tepidarium
with a springy step. "May all the gods grant thee success, but especially
Asklepios and Kypris, for under their double protection nothing evil
can meet one."
"I greet thee in Rome, and may thy rest be sweet after war," replied
Petronius, extending his hand from between the folds of soft karbas
stuff in which he was wrapped. "What's to be heard in Armenia; or
since thou wert in Asia, didst thou not stumble into Bithynia?"
Petronius on a time had been proconsul in Bithynia, and, what is more,
he had governed with energy and justice. This was a marvellous
contrast in the character of a man noted for effeminacy and love of
luxury; hence he was fond of mentioning those times, as they were a
proof of what he had been, and of what he might have become had it
pleased him.
"I happened to visit Heraklea," answered Vinicius. "Corbulo sent me
there with an order to assemble reinforcements."
"Ah, Heraklea! I knew at Heraklea a certain maiden from Colchis, for
whom I would have given all the divorced women of this city, not
excluding Poppæa. But these are old stories. Tell me now, rather, what
is to be heard from the Parthian boundary. It is true that they weary me
every Vologeses of them, and Tiridates and Tigranes,--those barbarians
who, as young Arulenus insists, walk on all fours at home, and pretend
to be human only when in our presence. But now people in Rome speak
much of them, if only for the reason that it is dangerous to speak of
aught else."

"The war is going badly, and but for Corbulo might be turned to
defeat."
"Corbulo! by Bacchus! a real god of war, a genuine Mars, a great
leader, at the same time quick-tempered, honest, and dull. I love him,
even for this,--that Nero is afraid of him."
"Corbulo is not a dull man."
"Perhaps thou art right, but for that matter it is all one. Dulness, as
Pyrrho says, is in no way worse than wisdom, and differs from it in
nothing."
Vinicius began to talk of the war; but when Petronius closed his eyes
again, the young man, seeing his uncle's tired and somewhat emaciated
face, changed the conversation, and inquired with a certain interest
about his health.
Petronius opened his eyes again.
Health!--No. He did not feel well. He had not gone so far yet, it is true,
as young Sissena, who had lost sensation to such a degree that when he
was brought to the bath in the morning he inquired, "Am I sitting?" But
he was not well. Vinicius had just committed him to the care of
Asklepios and Kypris. But he, Petronius, did not believe in Asklepios.
It was not known even whose son that Asklepios was, the son of
Arsinoe or Koronis; and if the mother was doubtful, what was to be
said of the father? Who, in that time, could be sure who his own father
was?
Hereupon Petronius began to laugh; then he continued,--"Two years
ago, it is true, I sent to Epidaurus three dozen live blackbirds and a
goblet of gold; but dost thou know why? I said to myself, 'Whether this
helps or not, it will do me no harm.' Though people make offerings to
the gods yet, I believe that all think as I do,--all, with the exception,
perhaps, of mule-drivers hired at the Porta Capena by travellers.
Besides Asklepios, I have had dealings with sons of Asklepios. When I
was troubled a little last year in the bladder, they performed an

incubation for me. I saw that they were tricksters, but I said to myself:
'What harm!