He awaited the next gathering of the Christians with feverish impatience—not with his first purpose of accumulating evidence for their extirpation, but rather for the sake of his own soul and that he might leave no stone unturned to save them. He was also deeply anxious to see him whom Cletus had described as ‘John the beloved.’ He longed to hear more of the Master whom the Christians worshipped with such passionate devotion, and to know wherein lay the secrets of the hope which He had kindled, of the peace which He had bequeathed, of the righteousness which He had placed within reach of attainment, not only by the noble and the learned, but by the despised and by paupers and by slaves.
It was to him a time of anxiety and trial. He had to act that week one of his favourite, most exciting, and most unworthy parts. He was pledged to it; myriads were expecting to see him in it; he had already received for it a large sum of money from Varro, the president of the games, and he had neither the courage to withdraw from it nor any appreciable excuse for doing so. He acted it with all his accustomed supremacy of skill, but he acted it mechanically and with a wounded conscience; and he listened to the thunders of applause which his grace evoked with loathing for himself and for his degraded audience. He returned to his house physically weary, but even more mentally prostrate, and, flinging himself on a couch, turned his face to the wall and wept.A summons from the Palace forced him to rouse himself, to put on a court dress, and assume his usual aspect of easy gaiety.[T16] Nero asked him with feverish eagerness whether he had succeeded in tracking the Christians to their haunts, and what evidence he had been able to collect against them.
‘Give me time, Cæsar,’ he said. ‘I went three days ago to their assembly and I heard nothing which could be construed into sedition, and I saw nothing to their discredit. I am driven to disbelieve what I told you about them.’
‘They are sly foxes,’ said Nero. ‘Poppæa has heard more about them from the Jew Josephus. You are not initiated into their mysteries, so that you did not really see what they are.’
‘And what matters it what they are?’ said Tigellinus. ‘We must have some criminals to accuse of having caused the fire; and who so handy as this secret, morose, man-hating, child-killing, flesh-eating sect of darkness, whom the people detest, and whom in any case it would be a merit to exterminate?’
‘Poor wretches!’ said Aliturus. ‘I should be sorry to do them more harm than I have done already; but after the next nundine I may have more to tell you.’
‘That man is wavering,’ said Tigellinus, when Aliturus had gone. ‘He is a Jew, and he is not so much in earnest as he was. He seems to be touched by the squeamish effeminacy of pity.’
‘Poppæa says that the Jews hate these Christians even more than we do,’ answered Nero.
‘Nevertheless, Cæsar, you may be certain that the two superstitions spring from the same root. I will find out the Christian haunts for myself. It is high time to strike a blow.’