Chapter II: Part 2

"Yes! over there, far off I see a mass moving, like a band of travellers seeking the way. _She_ is there!... They are making a mistake." (_Calling._)

"This way! Come! Come!"

(_Echo repeats: Come! Come! he lets his arms fall, stupefied._)

"What shame for me! Alas! poor Anthony."

(_And all of a sudden he hears a whisper:--"Poor Anthony"!_)

"Who is there? Speak!"

(_The wind passing through the intervals between the rocks, makes modulations; and in those confused sonorities he distinguishes Voices, as though the air itself were speaking. They are low, insinuating, hissing._)

_The First_: "Dost thou desire women?"

_The Second_: "Great heaps of money, rather!"

_The Third_: "A glittering sword?" (_and_)

_The Others_: "All the people admire thee! Sleep!"

"Thou shalt slay them all, aye, thou shalt slay them!"

(_At the same moment objects become transformed. At the edge of the cliff, the old palm tree with its tuft of yellow leaves, changes into the torso of a woman leaning over the abyss, her long hair waving in the wind.

Anthony turns toward his cabin; and the stool supporting the great book whose pages are covered with black letters, seems to him changed into a bush all covered with nightingales._)

"It must be the torch which is making this strange play of light.... Let us put it out!"

(_He extinguishes it; the obscurity becomes deeper, the darkness profound._

_And suddenly in the air above there appear and disappear successively--first, a stretch of water; then the figure of a prostitute; the corner of a temple, a soldier; a chariot with two white horses, prancing._

_These images appear suddenly, as in flashes--outlined against the background of the night, like scarlet paintings executed upon ebony._

_Their motion accelerates. They defile by with vertiginous rapidity. Sometimes again, they pause and gradually pale and melt away; or else float off out of sight, to be immediately succeeded by others._

_Anthony closes his eyelids._

_They multiply, surround him, besiege him. An unspeakable fear takes possession of him; and he feels nothing more of living sensation, save a burning contraction of the epigastrium. In spite of the tumult in his brain, he is aware of an enormous silence which separates him from the world. He tries to speak;--impossible! He feels as though all the bands of his life were breaking and dissolving;--and, no longer able to resist, Anthony falls prostrate upon his mat._)

[1] Acts X: 11-13--T.

[2] Esther IX: 5--T.

[3] Daniel II: 46.--T.

[4] Kings XX: 13 (Vulg.).--T.

[5] III Kings X: I (Vulg.).--T.

II

(_Then a great shadow, subtler than any natural shadow, and festooned by other shadows along its edges, defines itself upon the ground._

_It is the Devil, leaning upon the roof of the hut, and bearing beneath his wings--like some gigantic bat suckling its little ones--the Seven Deadly Sins, whose grimacing heads are dimly distinguishable._

_With eyes still closed, Anthony yields to the pleasure of inaction; and stretches his limbs upon the mat._

_It seems to him quite soft, and yet softer--so that it becomes as if padded; it rises up; it becomes a bed. The bed becomes a shallop; water laps against its sides._

_To right and left rise two long tongues of land, overlooking low cultivated plains, with a sycamore tree here and there. In the distance there is a tinkling of bells, a sound of drums and of singers. It is a party going to Canopus to sleep upon the temple of Serapis, in order to have dreams. Anthony knows this; and impelled by the wind, his boat glides along between the banks. Papyrus-leaves and the red flowers of the nymphæa, larger than the body of a man, bend over him. He is lying at the bottom of the boat; one oar at the stem, drags in the water. From time to time, a lukewarm wind blows; and the slender reeds rub one against the other, and rustle. Then the sobbing of the wavelets becomes indistinct. A heavy drowsiness falls upon him. He dreams that he is a Solitary of Egypt._

_Then he awakes with a start._)

"Did I dream? It was all so vivid that I can scarcely believe I was dreaming! My tongue burns. I am thirsty."

(_He enters the cabin, and gropes at random in the dark._)

"The ground is wet; can it have been raining? What can this mean! My pitcher is broken into atoms! But the goatskin?" (_He finds it._)

"Empty!--completely empty! In order to get down to the river, I should have to walk for at least three hours; and the night is so dark that I could not see my way.

"There is a gnawing in my entrails. Where is the bread!"

(_After long searching, he picks up a crust not so large as an egg._)

"What? Have the jackals taken it? Ah! malediction!"

(_And he flings the bread upon the ground with fury._

_No sooner has the action occurred than a table makes its appearance, covered with all things that are good to eat._

_The byssus cloth, striated like the bandelets of the sphinx, produces of itself luminous undulations. Upon it are enormous quarters of red meats; huge fish; birds cooked in their plumage, and quadrupeds in their skins; fruits with colors and tints almost human in appearance; while fragments of cooling ice, and flagons of violet crystal reflect each other's glittering. Anthony notices in the middle of the table a boar smoking at every pore--with legs doubled up under its belly, and eyes half closed--and the idea of being able to eat so formidable an animal greatly delights him. Then many things appear which he has never seen before--black hashes, jellies, the color of gold, ragouts in which mushrooms float like nenuphars upon ponds, dishes of whipt cream light as clouds._

_And the aroma of all this comes to him together with the salt smell of the ocean, the coolness of mountains, the great perfumes of the woods. He dilates his nostrils to their fullest extent; his mouth waters; he thinks to himself that he has enough before him for a year, for ten years, for his whole life!_

_As he gazes with widely-opened eyes at all these viands, others appear; they accumulate, forming a pyramid crumbling at all its angles. The wines begin to flow over--the fish palpitate--the blood seethes in the dishes--the pulp of the fruit protrudes like amorous lips--and the table rises as high as his breast, up to his very chin at last--now bearing only one plate and a single loaf of bread, placed exactly in front of him._

_He extends his hand to seize the loaf. Other loaves immediately present themselves to his grasp._)

"For me!... all these! But ..." (_Anthony suddenly draws back._)

"Instead of one which was there, lo! there are many! It must be a miracle, then, the same as our Lord wrought!

"Yet for what purpose?... Ah! all the rest of these things are equally incomprehensible! Demon, begone from me! depart! begone!"

(_He kicks the table from him. It disappears._)

"Nothing more?--no!" (_He draws a lung breath._)

"Ah! the temptation was strong! But how well I delivered myself from it!"

(_He lifts his head, and at the same time stumbles over some sonorous object._)

"Why! what can that be?" (_Anthony stoops down._)

"How! a cup! Some traveller must have lost it here. There is nothing extraordinary...."

(_He wets his finger, and rubs._)

"It glitters!--metal! Still, I cannot see very clearly...."

(_He lights his torch, and examines the cup._)

"It is silver, ornamented with ovules about the rim, with a medal at the bottom of it."

(_He detaches the medal with his nail!_)

"It is a piece of money worth about seven or eight drachmas--not more! It matters not! even with that I could easily buy myself a sheepskin."

(_A sudden flash of the torch lights up the cup._)

"Impossible! gold? Yes, all gold, solid gold!"

(_A still larger piece of money appears at the bottom. Under it he perceives several others._)

"Why, this is a sum ... large enough to purchase three oxen ... and a little field!"

(_The cup is now filled with pieces of gold._)

"What! what!... a hundred slaves, soldiers, a host ... enough to buy...."

(_The granulations of the rim, detaching themselves form a necklace of pearls._)

"With such a marvel of jewelry as that, one could win even the wife of the Emperor!"

(_By a sudden jerk, Anthony makes the necklace slip down over his wrist. He holds the cup in his left hand, and with his right lifts up the torch so as to throw the light upon it. As water streams overflowing from the basin of a fountain, so diamonds, carbuncles, and sapphires, all mingled with broad pieces of gold bearing the effigies of Kings, overflow from the cup in never ceasing streams, to form a glittering hillock upon the sand._)

"What! how! Staters, cycles, dariacs, aryandics; Alexander, Demetrius, the Ptolemies, Cæsar!--yet not one of them all possessed so much! Nothing is now impossible! no more suffering for me! how these gleams dazzle my eyes! Ah! my heart overflows! how delightful it is! yes--yes!--more yet! never could there be enough! Vainly I might continually fling it into the sea, there would always be plenty remaining for me. Why should I lose any of it? I will keep all, and say nothing to any one about it; I will have a chamber hollowed out for me in the rock, and lined with plates of bronze, and I will come here from time to time to feel the gold sinking down under the weight of my heel; I will plunge my arms into it as into sacks of grain! I will rub my face with it, I will lie down upon it!"

(_He flings down the torch in order to embrace the glittering heap, and falls flat upon the ground._

_He rises to his feet. The place is wholly empty._)

"What have I done!

"Had I died during those moments, I should have gone to hell--to irrevocable damnation."

(_He trembles in every limb._)

"Am I, then, accursed? Ah! no; it is my own fault! I allow myself to be caught in every snare! No man could be more imbecile, more infamous! I should like to beat myself, or rather to tear myself out of my own body! I have restrained myself too long. I feel the want of vengeance--the necessity of striking, of killing!--as though I had a pack of wild beasts within me! Would that I could hew my way with an axe, through the midst of a multitude.... Ah, a poniard!..."

(_He perceives his knife, and rushes to seize it. The knife slips from his hand; and Anthony remains leaning against the wall of his hut, with wide-open mouth, motionless, cataleptic._

_Everything about him has disappeared._

_He thinks himself at Alexandria, upon the Paneum--an artificial mountain in the centre of the city, encircled by a winding stairway._

_Before him lies Lake Mareolis; on his right hand is the sea, on his left the country; and immediately beneath him a vast confusion of flat roofs, traversed from north to south and from east to west by two streets which intercross, and which offer throughout their entire length the spectacle of files of porticoes with Corinthian columns. The houses overhanging this double colonnade have windows of stained glass. Some of them support exteriorly enormous wooden cages, into which the fresh air rushes from without._

_Monuments of various architecture tower up in close proximity. Egyptian pylons dominate Greek temples. Obelisks appear like lances above battlements of red brick. In the middle of public squares there are figures of Hermes with pointed ears, and of Anubis with the head of a dog. Anthony can distinguish the mosaic pavements of the courtyards, and tapestries suspended from the beams of ceilings._

_He beholds at one glance, the two ports (the Great Port and the Eunostus), both round as circuses, and separated by a mole connecting Alexandria with the craggy island upon which the Pharos-tower rises--quadrangular, five hundred cubits high, nine storied, having at its summit a smoking heap of black coals._

_Small interior ports open into the larger ones. The mole terminates at each end in a bridge supported upon marble columns planted in the sea. Sailing vessels pass beneath it, while heavy lighters overladen with merchandise, thalamegii[1] inlaid with ivory, gondolas covered with awnings, triremes, biremes, and all sorts of vessels are moving to and fro, or lie moored at the wharves._

_About the Great Port extends an unbroken array of royal construction: the palace of the Ptolomies, the Museum, the Posidium, the Cæsareum, the Timonium where Mark Anthony sought refuge, the Soma which contains the tomb of Alexander; while at the other extremity of the city, beyond the Eunostus, the great glass factories, perfume factories, and papyrus factories may be perceived in a suburban quarter._

_Strolling peddlers, porters, ass-drivers run and jostle together. Here and there one observes some priest of Isis wearing a panther skin on his shoulders, a Roman soldier with his bronze helmet, and many negroes. At the thresholds of the shops women pause, artisans ply their trades; and the grinding noise of chariot wheels puts to flight the birds that devour the detritus of the butcher-shops and the morsels of fish left upon the ground._

_The general outline of the streets seems like a black network flung upon the white uniformity of the houses. The markets stocked with herbs make green bouquets in the midst of it; the drying-yards of the dyers, blotches of color; the golden ornaments of the temple-pediments, luminous points--all comprised within the oval enclosure of the grey ramparts, under the vault of the blue heaven, beside the motionless sea._

_But suddenly the movement of the crowd ceases; all turn their eyes toward the west, whence enormous whirlwinds of dust are seen approaching._

_It is the coming of the monks of the Thebaid, all clad in goatskins, armed with cudgels, roaring a canticle of battle and of faith with the refrain_:

"Where are they? Where are they?"

_Anthony understands that they are coming to kill the Arians._

_The streets are suddenly emptied--only flying feet are visible._

_The Solitaries are now in the city. Their formidable cudgels, studded with nails, whirl in the air like suns of steel. The crash of things broken in the houses is heard. There are intervals of silence. Then great screams arise._

_From one end of the street to the other there is a continual eddy of terrified people._

_Many grasp pikes. Sometimes two bands meet, rush into one; and this mass of men slips upon the pavement--fighting, disjointing, knocking down. But the men with the long hair always reappear._

_Threads of smoke begin to escape from the corners of edifices! folding doors burst open. Portions of walls crumble down. Architraves fall._

_Anthony finds all his enemies again, one after the other. He even recognizes some whom he had altogether forgotten; before killing them he outrages them. He disembowels--he severs throats--he fells as in a slaughter house--he hales old men by the beard, crushes children, smites the wounded. And vengeance is taken upon luxury, those who do not know how to read tear up hooks; others smash and deface the statues, paintings, furniture, caskets,--a thousand dainty things the use of which they do not know, and which simply for that reason exasperates them. At intervals they pause, out of breath, in the work of destruction; then they recommence._

_The inhabitants moan in the courtyards where they have sought refuge. The women raise their tearful eyes and lift their naked arms to heaven. In hope of moving the Solitaries they embrace their knees; the men cast them off and fling them down, and the blood gushes to the ceilings, falls back upon the walls like sheets of rain, streams from the trunks of decapitated corpses, fills the aqueducts, forms huge red pools upon the ground._

_Anthony is up to his knees in it. He wades in it; he sucks up the blood-spray on his lips; he is thrilled with joy as he feels it upon his limbs, under his hair-tunic which is soaked through with it._

_Night comes. The immense uproar dies away._

_The Solitaries have disappeared._

_Suddenly, upon the outer galleries corresponding to each of the nine stories of the Pharos, Anthony observes thick black lines forming, like lines of crows perching. He hurries thither; and soon finds himself at the summit._

_A huge mirror of brass turned toward the open sea, reflects the forms of the vessels in the offing._

_Anthony amuses himself by watching them; and while he watches, their number increases._

_They are grouped together within a gulf which has the form of a crescent. Upon a promontory in the background, towers a new city of Roman architecture, with cupolas of stone, conical roofs, gleams of pink and blue marbles, and a profusion of brazen ornamentation applied to the volutes of the capitals, to the angles of the cornices, to the summits of the edifices. A cypress-wood overhangs the city. The line of the sea is greener, the air colder. The mountains lining the horizon are capped with snow._

_Anthony is trying to find his way, when a man approaches him, and says_:

"Come! they are waiting for you."

_He traverses a forum, enters a great court, stoops beneath a low door; and he arrives before the facade of the palace, decorated with a group in wax, representing Constantine overcoming a dragon. There is a porphyry basin, from the centre of which rises a golden conch-shell full of nuts. His guide tells him that he may take some of them. He does so. Then he is lost, as it were, in a long succession of apartments._

_There are mosaics upon the walls representing generals presenting the Emperor with conquered cities, which they hold out upon the palms of their hands. And there are columns of basalt everywhere, trellis-work in silver filigree, ivory chairs, tapestries embroidered with pearls. The light falls from the vaults above; Anthony still proceeds. Warm exhalations circulate about him; occasionally he hears the discreet clapping sound of sandals upon the pavement. Posted in the anti-chambers are guards, who resemble automata, holding wands of vermillion upon their shoulders._

_At last he finds himself in a great hall, with hyacinth-colored curtains at the further end. They part, and display the Emperor seated on a throne, clad in a violet tunic, and wearing red shoes striped with bands of black._

_A diadem of pearls surround his head; his locks are arranged symmetrically in rouleaux. He has a straight nose, drooping eyelids, a heavy and cunning physiognomy. At the four corners of the dais stretched above his head are placed four golden doves; and at the foot of the throne are two lions in enamel crouching. The doves begin to sing, the lions to roar. The Emperor rolls his eyes; Anthony advances; and forthwith, without preamble, they commence to converse about recent events. In the cities of Antioch, Ephesus, and Alexandria, the temples have been sacked, and the statues of the gods converted into pots and cooking utensils; the Emperor laughs heartily about it. Anthony reproaches him with his tolerance toward the Novations. But the Emperor becomes vexed. Novations, Arians or Meletians--he is sick of them all! Nevertheless, he admires the episcopate; for inasmuch as the Christians maintain bishops, who depend for their position upon five or six important personages, it is only necessary to gain over the latter, in order to have all the rest on one's side. Therefore he did not fail to furnish them with large sums. But he detests the Fathers of the Council of Nicæa._

"Let us go and see them!"

_Anthony follows him._

_And they find themselves on a terrace, upon the same floor._

_It overlooks a hippodrome thronged with people, and surmounted by porticoes where other spectators are walking to and fro. From the centre of the race-course rises a narrow platform of hewn stone, supporting a little temple of Mercury, the statue of Constantine, and three serpents of brass twisted into a column; there are three huge wooden eggs at one end, and at the other a group of seven dolphins with their tails in the air._

_Behind the imperial pavilion sit the Prefects of the Chambers, the Counts of the Domestics, and the Patricians--in ranks rising by tiers to the first story of a church whose windows are thronged with women. On the right is the tribune of the Blue Faction; on the left, that of the Green; below, a picket of soldiers is stationed; and on a level with the arena is a row of Corinthian arches, forming the entrances to the stables._

_The races are about to commence; the horses are drawn up in line. Lofty plumes, fastened between their ears, bend to the wind like saplings; and with every restive bound, they shake their chariots violently, which are shell-shaped, and conducted by charioteers clad in a sort of multi-colored cuirass, having sleeves tight at the wrist and wide in the arms; their legs are bare; their beards, faces and foreheads are shaven after the manner of the Huns._

_Anthony is at first deafened by the billowy sound of voices. From the summit of the hippodrome to its lowest tiers, he sees only faces painted with rouge, garments checkered and variegated with many colors, flashing jewelry; and the sand of the arena, all white, gleams like a mirror._

_The Emperor entertains him. He confides to him many matters of high importance, many secrets; he confesses the assassination of his son Criopus, and even asks Anthony for advice regarding his health._

_Meanwhile Anthony notices some slaves in the rear portion of the stables below. They are the Fathers of Nicæa, ragged and abject. The martyr Paphnutius is brushing the mane of one horse; Theophilus is washing the legs of another; John is painting the hoofs of a third; Alexander is collecting dung in a basket._

_Anthony passes through the midst of them. They range themselves on either side respectfully; they beseech his intercession; they kiss his hands. The whole assemblage of spectators hoots at them; and he enjoys the spectacle with immeasurable pleasure. Lo! he is now one of the grandees of the Court--the Emperor's confidant--the prime minister! Constantine places his own diadem upon his brows. Anthony allows it to remain upon his head, thinking this honor quite natural._

_And suddenly in the midst of the darkness a vast hall appears, illuminated by golden candelabra._

_Candles so lofty that they are half lost in the darkness, stretch away in huge files beyond the lines of banquet-tables, which seem to extend to the horizon, where through a luminous haze loom superpositions of stairways, suites of arcades, colossi, towers, and beyond all a vague border of palace walls, above which rise the crests of cedars, making yet blacker masses of blackness against the darkness._

_The guests, crowned with violet wreaths, recline upon very low couches and are leaning upon their elbows. Along the whole length of this double line of couches, wine is being poured out from amphoræ, and at the further end, all alone, coiffed with the tiara and blazing with carbuncles, King Nebuchadnezzar eats and drinks._

_On his right and left, two bands of priests in pointed caps are swinging censers. On the pavement below crawl the captive kings whose hands and feet have been cut off; from time to time he flings them bones to gnaw. Further off sit his brothers, with bandages across their eyes, being all blind._

_From the depths of the ergastula arise moans of ceaseless pain. Sweet slow sounds of a hydraulic organ alternate with choruses of song; and one feels that all about the palace without extends an immeasurable city--an ocean of human life whose waves break against the walls. The slaves run hither and thither carrying dishes. Women walk between the ranks of guests, offering drinks to all; the baskets groan under their burthen of loaves; and a dromedary, laden with perforated water-skins: passes and repasses through the hall, sprinkling and cooling the pavement with vervain._

_Lion tamers are leading tamed lions about. Dancing girls--their hair confined in nets--balance themselves and turn upon their hands, emitting fire through their nostrils; negro boatmen are juggling; naked children pelt each other with pellets of snow, which burst against the bright silverware. There is an awful clamor as of a tempest; and a huge cloud hangs over the banquet--so numerous are the meats and breaths. Sometimes a flake of fire torn from the great flambeaux by the wind, traverses the night like a shooting star._

_The king wipes the perfumes from his face with his arm. He eats from the sacred vessels--then breaks them; and secretly reckons up the number of his fleets, his armies, and his subjects. By and by, for a new caprice, he will burn his palace with all its guests. He dreams of rebuilding the tower of Babel, and dethroning God._

_Anthony, from afar off, reads all these thoughts upon his brow. They penetrate his own brain, and he becomes Nebuchadnezzar. Immediately he is cloyed with orgiastic excesses, sated with fury of extermination; and a great desire comes upon him to wallow in vileness. For the degradation of that which terrifies men is an outrage inflicted upon their minds--it affords yet one more way to stupefy them; and as nothing is viler than a brute, Anthony goes upon the table on all fours, and bellows like a bull._

_He feels a sudden pain in his hand--a pebble has accidentally wounded him--and he finds himself once more in front of his cabin._

_The circle of the rocks is empty. The stars are glowing in the sky. All is hushed._)

"Again have I allowed myself to be deceived! Why these things? They come from the rebellion of the flesh. Ah! wretch!"

(_He rushes into his cabin, and seizes a bunch of thongs, with metallic hooks attached to their ends, strips himself to the waist and, lifting his eyes to heaven exclaims_:)

"Accept my penance, O my God: disdain it not for its feebleness. Render it sharp, prolonged, excessive! It is time, indeed!--to the work!"

(_He gives himself a vigorous lash--and shrieks._)

"No! no!--without mercy it must be."

(_He recommences._)

"Oh! oh! oh! each lash tears my skin, rends my limbs! It burns me horribly!"

"Nay!--it is not so very terrible after all!--one becomes accustomed to it. It even seems to me...."

(_Anthony pauses._)

"Continue, coward! continue! Good! good!--upon the arms, on the back, on the breast, on the belly--everywhere! Hiss, ye thongs! bite me! tear me! I would that my blood could spurt to the stars!--let my bones crack!--let my tendons be laid bare! O for pincers, racks, and melted lead! The martyrs have endured far worse; have they not, Ammonaria?"

(_The shadow of the Devil's horns reappears._)

"I might have been bound to the column opposite to thine,--face to face--under thy eyes--answering thy shrieks by my sighs; and our pangs might have been interblended, our souls intermingled."

(_He lashes himself with fury._)

"What! what! again. Take that!--But how strange a titillation thrills me! What punishment! what pleasure! I feel as though receiving invisible kisses; the very marrow of my bones seems to melt. I die...."

_And he sees before him three cavaliers, mounted upon onagers, clad in robes of green--each holding a lily in his hand, and all resembling each other in feature._

_Anthony turns round, and beholds three other cavaliers exactly similar, riding upon similar onagers, and preserving the same attitude._

_He draws back. Then all the onagers advance one pace at the same time, and rub their noses against him, trying to bite his garment. Voices shout_:--

"Here! here! this way!"

_And between the clefts of the mountain, appear standards,--camels' heads with halters of red silk--mules laden with baggage, and women covered with yellow veils, bestriding piebald horses._

_The panting beasts lie down; the slaves rush to the bales and packages, motley-striped carpets are unrolled; precious glimmering things are laid upon the ground._

_A white elephant, caparisoned with a golden net, trots forward, shaking the tuft of ostrich plumes attached to his head-band._

_Upon his back, perched on cushions of blue wool, with her legs crossed, her eyes half closed, her comely head sleepily nodding, is a woman so splendidly clad that she radiates light about her. The crowd falls prostrate; the elephant bends his knees; and_

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA

_letting herself glide down from his shoulder upon the carpets spread to receive her, approaches Saint Anthony._

_Her robe of gold brocade, regularly divided by furbelows of pearls, of jet, and of sapphires, sheaths her figure closely with its tight-fitting bodice, set off by colored designs representing the twelve signs of the Zodiac. She wears very high pattens--one of which is black, and sprinkled with silver stars, with a moon crescent; the other, which is white, is sprinkled with a spray of gold, with a golden sun in the middle._

_Her wide sleeves, decorated with emeralds and bird-plumes, leave exposed her little round bare arms, clasped at the wrist by ebony bracelets; and her hands, loaded with precious rings, are terminated by nails so sharply pointed that the ends of her fingers seem almost like needles._

_A chain of dead gold, passing under her chin, is caught up on either side of her face, and spirally coiled about her coiffure, whence, redescending, it grazes her shoulders and is attached upon her bosom to a diamond scorpion, which protrudes a jewelled tongue between her breasts. Two immense blond pearls depend heavily from her ears. The borders of her eyelids are painted black. There is a natural brown spot upon her left cheek; and she opens her mouth in breathing, as if her corset inconvenienced her._

_She shakes, as she approaches, a green parasol with an ivory handle, and silver-gilt bells attached to its rim; twelve little woolly-haired negro-boys support the long train of her robe, whereof an ape holds the extremity, which it raises up from time to time. She exclaims_:

"Ah! handsome hermit! handsome hermit!--my heart swoons!

"By dint of stamping upon the ground with impatience, callosities have formed upon my heel, and I have broken one of my nails. I sent out shepherds, who remained upon the mountain tops, shading their eyes with their hands--and hunters who shouted thy name in all the forests--and spies who travelled along the highways, asking every passer-by:

"'Hast thou seen him?'

"By night I wept, with my face turned to the wall. And at last my tears made two little holes in the mosaic, like two pools of water among the rocks;--for I love thee!--oh! how I love thee!"

(_She takes him by the beard._)

"Laugh now, handsome hermit! laugh! I am very joyous, very gay: thou shalt soon see! I play the lyre; I dance like a bee; and I know a host of merry tales to tell, each more diverting than the other.

"Thou canst not even imagine how mighty a journey we have made. See! the onagers upon which the green couriers rode are dead with fatigue!"

(_The onagers are lying motionless upon the ground._)

"For three long moons they never ceased to gallop on with the same equal pace, holdings flints between their teeth to cut the wind, their tails ever streaming out behind them, their sinews perpetually strained to the uttermost, always galloping, galloping. Never can others be found like them. They were bequeathed me by my paternal grand-father, the Emperor Saharil, son of Iakhschab, son of Iaarab, son of Kastan. Ah! if they were still alive, we should harness them to a litter that they might bear us back speedily to the palace! But ... what ails thee?--of what art thou dreaming?"

(_She stares at him, examines him closely._)

"Ah, when thou shalt be my husband, I will robe thee, I will perfume thee, I will depilate thee."

(_Anthony remains motionless, more rigid than a stake, more pallid than a corpse._)

"Thou hast a sad look--is it because of leaving thy hermitage? Yet I have left everything for thee--even King Solomon, who, nevertheless, possesses much wisdom, twenty thousand chariots of war, and a beautiful beard. I have brought thee my wedding gifts. Choose!"

(_She walks to and fro among the ranks of slaves and the piles of precious goods._)

"Here is Genezareth balm, incense from Cape Gardefui, labdanum, cinnamon, and silphium--good to mingle with sauces. In that bale are Assyrian embroideries, ivory from the Ganges, purple from Elissa; and that box of snow contains a skin of chalybon, the wine, which is reserved for the Kings of Assyria, and which is drunk from the horn of a unicorn. Here are necklaces, brooches, nets for the hair, parasols, gold powder from Baasa, cassiteria from Tartessus, blue wood from Pandio, white furs from Issidonia, carbuncles from the Island Palæsimondus, and toothpicks made of the bristles of the tachas--that lost animal which is found under the earth. These cushions come from Emath, and these mantle-fringes from Palmyra. On this Babylonian carpet there is.... But come hither! come! come!"

(_She pulls Saint Anthony by the sleeve. He resists. She continues_:)

"This thin tissue which crackles under the finger with a sound as of sparks, is the famous yellow cloth which the merchants of Bactria bring us. I will have robes made of it for thee, which thou shalt wear in the house. Unfasten the hooks of that sycamore box, and hand me also the little ivory casket tied to my elephant's shoulder."

(_They take something round out of a box--something covered with a cloth--and also bring a little ivory casket covered with carving._)

"Dost thou desire the buckler of Dgian-ben-Dgian, who built the pyramids?--behold it!--It is formed of seven dragon-skins laid one over the other, tanned in the bile of parricides, and fastened together by adamantine screws. Upon one side are represented all the wars that have taken place since the invention of weapons; and upon the other, all the wars that will take place until the end of the world. The lightning itself rebounds from it like a ball of cork. I am going to place it upon thy arm; and thou wilt carry it during the chase.

"But if thou didst only know what I have in this little box of mine! Turn it over and over again! try to open it! No one could ever succeed in doing that. Kiss me! and I will tell thee how to open it."

(_She takes Saint Anthony by both cheeks. He pushes her away at arms' length._)

"It was one night that King Solomon lost his head. At last we concluded a bargain. He arose, and stealing out on tiptoe...."

(_She suddenly executes a pirouette._)

"Ah, ah! comely hermit, thou shalt not know it! thou shalt not know!"

(_She shakes her parasol, making all its little bells tinkle._)

"And I possess many other strange things--oh! yes! I have treasures concealed in winding galleries where one would lose one's way, as in a forest. I have summer-palaces constructed in trellis-work of reeds, and winter-palaces all built of black marble. In the midst of lakes vast as seas, I have islands round as pieces of silver, and all covered with mother-of-pearl,--islands whose shores make music to the lapping of tepid waves upon the sand. The slaves of my kitchens catch birds in my aviaries, and fish in my fishponds. I have engravers continually seated at their benches to hollow out my likeness in hard jewel-stones, and panting molders forever casting statues of me, and perfumers incessantly mingling the sap of rare plants with vinegar, or preparing cosmetic pastes. I have female dressmakers cutting out patterns in richest material, goldsmiths cutting and mounting jewels of price, and careful painters pouring upon my palace wainscoting boiling resins, which they subsequently cool with fans. I have enough female attendants to form a harem, eunuchs enough to make an army. I have armies likewise; I have nations! In the vestibule of my palace I keep a guard of dwarfs--all bearing ivory trumpets at their backs." (_Anthony sighs._)

"I have teams of trained gazelles; I have elephant quadrigæ; I have hundreds of pairs of camels, and mares whose manes are so long that their hoofs become entangled therein when they gallop, and herds of cattle with horns so broad that when they go forth to graze the woods have to be hewn down before them. I have giraffes wandering in my gardens; they stretch their heads over the edge of my roof, when I take the air after dinner.

"Seated in a shell drawn over the waters by dolphins, I travel through the grottoes, listening lo the dropping of the water from the stalactites. I go down to the land of diamonds, where my friends the magicians allow me to choose the finest: then I reascend to earth and return to my home."

(_She utters a sharp whistle; and a great bird, descending from the sky, alights upon her hair, from which it makes the blue powder fall._

_Its orange-colored plumage seems formed of metallic scales. Its little head, crested with a silver tuft, has a human face._

_It has four wings, the feet of a vulture, and an immense peacock's tail which it spreads open like a fan._

_It seizes the Queen's parasol in its beak, reels a moment ere obtaining its balance; then it erects all its plumes, and remains motionless._)

"Thanks! my beautiful Simorg-Anka!--thou didst tell me where the loving one was hiding! Thanks! thanks! my heart's messenger!

"He flies swiftly as Desire! He circles the world in his flight. At eve he returns; he perches at the foot of my couch and tells me all he has seen--the seas that have passed far beneath him with all their fishes and ships, the great void deserts he has contemplated from the heights of the sky, the harvests that were bowing in the valleys, and the plants that were growing upon the walls of cities abandoned."

(_She wrings her hands, languorously._)

"Oh! if thou wast willing! if thou wast willing!... I have a pavilion on a promontory in the middle of an isthmus dividing two oceans. It is all wain-scoted with sheets of glass, and floored with tortoise shell, and open to the four winds of heaven. From its height I watch my fleets come in, and my nations toiling up the mountain-slopes with burthens upon their shoulders. There would we sleep upon downs softer than clouds; we would drink cool draughts from fruit-shells, and we would gaze at the sun through emeralds! Come!" ...

(_Anthony draws back. She approaches him again, and exclaims in a tone of vexation_:--)

"How? neither the rich, nor the coquettish, nor the amorous woman can charm thee: is it so? None but a lascivious woman, with a hoarse voice and lusty person, with fire-colored hair and superabundant flesh? Dost thou prefer a body cold as the skin of a serpent, or rather great dark eyes deeper than the mystic caverns?--behold them, my eyes!--look into them!"

(_Anthony, in spite of him, gazes into her eyes._)

"All the women thou hast ever met--from the leman of the cross-roads, singing under the light of her lantern, even to the patrician lady scattering rose-petals abroad from her litter,--all the forms thou hast ever obtained glimpses of--all the imaginations of thy desire thou hast only to ask for them! I am not a woman: I am a world! My cloak has only to fall in order that thou mayest discover a succession of mysteries." (_Anthony's teeth chatter._)

"Place but thy finger upon my shoulder: it will be as though a stream of fire shot through all thy veins. The possession of the least part of me will fill thee with a joy more vehement than the conquest of an Empire could give thee! Approach thy lips: there is a sweetness in my kisses as of a fruit dissolving within thy heart. Ah! how thou wilt lose thyself beneath my long hair, inhale the perfume of my bosom, madden thyself with the beauty of my limbs: and thus, consumed by the fire of my eyes, clasped within my arms as in a whirlwind...."

(_Anthony makes the sign of the cross._)

"Thou disdainest me! farewell!"

(_She departs, weeping; then, suddenly turning round_:--)

"Art quite sure?--so beautiful a woman...."

(_She laughs, and the ape that bears her train, lifts it up._)

"Thou wilt regret it, my comely hermit! thou wilt yet weep! thou wilt again feel weary of thy life; but I care not a whit! La! la! la!--oh! oh! oh!"

(_She takes her departure, hopping upon one foot and covering her face with her hands._

_All the slaves file off before Saint Anthony--the horses, the dromedaries, the elephant, the female attendants, the mules (which have been reloaded), the negro boys, the ape, the green couriers each holding his broken lily in his hand; and the Queen of Sheba departs, uttering a convulsive hiccough at intervals, which might be taken either for a sound of hysterical sobbing, or the half-suppressed laughter of mockery._)

[1] _Thalamegii_--pleasure-boats having apartments.

III

(_When she has disappeared in the distance, Anthony observes a child seated upon the threshold of his cabin._)

"It is one of the Queen's servants, no doubt," (_he thinks_).

(_This child is small like a dwarf, and nevertheless squat of build, like one of the Cabiri; deformed withal, and wretched of aspect. His prodigiously large head is covered with white hair; and he shivers under a shabby tunic, all the while clutching a roll of papyrus. The light of the moon passing through a cloud falls upon him._)

ANTHONY

(_watches him from a distance, and is afraid of him._) "Who art thou?"

THE CHILD (_replies_). "Thy ancient disciple, Hilarion."

ANTHONY. "Thou liest! Hilarion hath been dwelling in Palestine for many long years."

HILARION. "I have returned! It is really I!"

ANTHONY (_draws near and examines him closely_). "Yet his face was radiant as the dawn, candid, joyous. This face is the face of one gloomy and old."

HILARION. "Long and arduous labor hath wearied me!"

ANTHONY. "The voice is also different. It hath an icy tone."

HILARION. "Because I have nourished me with bitter things!"

ANTHONY. "And those white hairs?"

HILARION. "I have endured many woes!"

ANTHONY (_aside_). "Could it be possible?"

HILARION. "I was not so far from thee as thou doest imagine. The hermit Paul visited thee this year, during the month of Schebar. It is just twenty days since the Nomads brought thee bread. Thou didst tell a sailor, the day before yesterday, to send thee three bodkins."

ANTHONY. "He knows all!"

HILARION. "Know further more that I have never left thee. But there are long periods during which thou hast no knowledge of my presence."

ANTHONY. "How can that be? Yet it is true that my head is so much troubled--this night especially."

HILARION. "All the Capital Sins came hither. But their wretched snares can avail nothing against such a Saint as thou."

ANTHONY. "Oh! no!--no! I fall at every moment! Why am I not of those whose souls are ever intrepid, whose minds are always firm,--for example, the great Athanasius?"

HILARION. "He was illegally ordained by seven bishops."

ANTHONY. "What matter if his virtue...."

HILARION. "Go to!--a most vainglorious and cruel man, forever involved in intrigues, and exiled at last as a monopolist."[1]

ANTHONY. "Calumny!"

HILARION. "Thou wilt not deny that he sought to corrupt Eustates, the treasurer of largesses?"

ANTHONY. "It is affirmed, I acknowledge."

HILARION. "Through vengeance he burned down the house of Arsenius."

ANTHONY. "Alas!"

HILARION. "At the council of Nicæa he said in speaking of Jesus: 'The man of the Lord.'"

ANTHONY. "Ah! that is a blasphemy!"

HILARION. "So limited in understanding, moreover, that he confesses he comprehends nothing of the nature of the "Word!"

ANTHONY (_smiling with gratification_). "In sooth his intelligence is not ... very lofty."

HILARION. "Hypocrite! burying thyself in solitude only in order the more fully to abandon thyself to the indulgence of thy envious desires! What if thou dost deprive thyself of meats, of wine, of warmth, of bath, of slaves, or honours?--dost thou not permit thy imagination to offer thee banquets, perfumes, women, and the applause of multitudes? Thy chastity is but a more subtle form of corruption, and thy contempt of this world is but the impotence of thy hatred against it! Either this it is that makes such as thyself so lugubrious, or else 'tis doubt. The possession of truth giveth joy. Was Jesus sad? Did he not travel in the company of friends, repose beneath the shade of olive trees, enter the house of the publican, drink many cups of wine, pardon the sinning woman, and assuage all sorrows? Thou!--thou hast no pity save for thine own misery! It is like a remorse that gnaws thee, a savage madness that impels thee to repel the caress of a dog or to frown upon the smile of a child."

ANTHONY (_bursting into tears_). "Enough! enough! thou dost wound my heart deeply."

HILARION. "Shake the vermin from thy rags! Rise up from thy filth! Thy God is not a Moloch who demands human flesh in sacrifice!"

ANTHONY. "Yet suffering is blessed. The cherubim stoop to receive the blood of confessors."

HILARION. "Admire, then, the Montanists!--they surpass all others."

ANTHONY. "But it is the truth of the doctrine which makes the martyrdom."

HILARION. "How can martyrdom prove the excellence of the doctrine, inasmuch as it bears equal witness for error?"

HILARION. "Silence!--thou viper!"

ANTHONY. "Perhaps martyrdom is not so difficult as thou dost imagine! The exhortations of friends, the pleasure of insulting the people, the oath one has taken, a certain dizzy excitement, a thousand circumstances all aid the resolution of the martyrs...."

(_Anthony turns his back upon Hilarion, and moves away from him. Hilarion follows him._)

" ... Moreover this manner of dying often brings about great disorders. Dionysius, Cyprian and Gregory fled from it. Peter of Alexandria has condemned it; and the council of Elvira...."

ANTHONY (_stops his ears_). "I will listen to thee no longer!"

HILARION (_raising his voice_). "Lo! thou fallest again into the habitual sin, which is sloth! Ignorance is the foam of pride. One says, forsoth:--'My conviction is formed! wherefore argue further?'--and one despises the doctors, the philosophers, tradition itself, and even the text of the law whereof one is ignorant! Dost thou imagine that thou dost hold all wisdom in the hollow of thy hand?"

ANTHONY. "I hear him still! His loud words fill my brain."

HILARION. "The efforts of others to comprehend God are mightier than all thy mortifications to move Him. We obtain merit only by our thirst for truth. Religion alone cannot explain all things; and the solution of problems ignored by thee can render faith still more invulnerable and noble. Therefore, for our salvation we must communicate with our brethren--otherwise the Church, the assembly of the faithful, would be a meaningless word--and we must listen to all reasoning, despising nothing, nor any person. The magician Balaam, the poet Aeschylus, and the Sybil of Cumæ--all foretold the Saviour. Dionysius, the Alexandrian, received from heaven the command to read all books. Saint Clement orders us to cultivate Greek letters. Hennas was converted by the illusion of a woman he had loved...."

ANTHONY. "What an aspect of authority! It seems to me thou art growing taller...."

(_And, in very truth, the stature of Hilarion is gradually increasing; and Anthony shuts his eyes, that he may not see him._)

HILARION. "Reassure thyself, good Hermit. Let us seat ourselves there, upon that great stone, as we used to do in other years, when, at the first dawn of day, I was wont to salute thee with the appellation, 'Clear star of morning'--and thou wouldst therewith commence to instruct me. Yet my instruction is not yet completed. The moon gives us light enough. I am prepared to hear thy words."

(_He has drawn a calamus from his girdle, and seating himself cross-legged upon the ground, with the papyrus roll still in his hand, he lifts his face toward Saint Anthony, who sits near him, with head bowed down._

_After a moment of silence Hilarion continues_:--)

"Is not the word of God confirmed for us by miracles? Nevertheless the magicians of Pharaoh performed miracles; other imposters can perform them; one may be thereby deceived. What then is a miracle? An event which seems to us outside of nature. But do we indeed know all of Nature's powers; and because a common occurrence causes us no astonishment, does it therefore follow that we understand it."

ANTHONY. "It matters little! We must believe the Scriptures!"

HILARION. "Saint Paul, Origen, and many others did not understand the Scriptures in a literal sense: yet if Holy Writ be explained by allegories it becomes the portion of a small number, and the evidence of the truth disappears. What must we do?"

ANTHONY. "We must rely upon the Church!"

HILARION. "Then the Scriptures are useless?"

ANTHONY. "No! no! although I acknowledge that in the Old Testament there are some ... some obscurities. But the New shines with purest light."

HILARION. "Nevertheless, the Angel of the annunciation, in Matthew, appears to Joseph; while, in Luke, he appears to Mary. The anointing of Jesus by a woman takes place, according to the first Gospel, at the commencement of his public life; and, according to the other three, a few days before his death. The drink offered to him on the cross, is, in Matthew, vinegar mixed with gall; in Mark, it is wine and myrrh. According to Luke and Matthew, the apostles should take with them neither money nor scrip for their journey--not even sandals nor staff; in Mark, on the contrary, Jesus bids them take nothing with them, except sandals and a staff. I am thereby bewildered!"

ANTHONY (_in amazement_). "Aye, indeed!... in fact...."

HILARION. "At the contact of the woman who had an issue of blood, Jesus turned and said, 'Who hath touched my garments?' He did not know, then, who had touched him? That contradicts the omniscience of Jesus! If the tomb was watched by guards, the women need have felt no anxiety about finding help to roll away the stone from the tomb. Therefore there were no guards, or the holy women were not there. At Emmaus, he eats with his disciples and makes them feel his wounds. It is a human body, a material and ponderable object; and nevertheless it passes through walls! Is that possible?"

ANTHONY. "It would require much time to answer thee properly!"

HILARION. "Why did he receive the Holy Spirit, being himself Son of the Holy Spirit? What need had he of baptism if he was the Word? How could the Devil have tempted him, inasmuch as he was God? Have these thoughts never occurred to thee?"

ANTHONY. "Yes!... often! Sometimes torpid, sometimes furious--they remain forever in my conscience. I crush them; they rise again, they stifle me; and sometimes I think that I am accursed."

HILARION. "Then it is needless for thee to serve God?"

ANTHONY. "I shall always need to adore Him."

(_After a long silence Hilarion continues_:)

"But aside from dogma, all researches are allowed us. Dost thou desire to know the hierarchy of the Angels, the virtue of the Numbers, the reason of germs and of metamorphoses?"

ANTHONY. "Yes! yes! my thought struggles wildly to escape from its prison. It seems to me that by exerting all my force I might succeed. Sometimes, for an instant, brief as a lightning flash, I even feel myself as thought uplifted,--then I fall back again!"

HILARION. "The secret thou wouldst obtain is guarded by sages. They dwell in a distant land; they are seated beneath giant trees; they are robed in white; they are calm as Gods! A warm air gives them sufficient nourishment. All about them, leopards tread upon grassy turf. The murmuring of fountains and the neighing of unicorns mingle with their voices. Thou shalt hear them; and the face of the Unknown shall be unveiled!"

ANTHONY (_sighing_). "The way is long; and I am old."

HILARION. "Oh! oh! wise men are not rare! there are some even very nigh thee!--here! Let us enter!"

[1] Gibbon, a sincere admirer of Athanasius, gives a curious history of these charges, and expresses his disbelief in their truth. The story regarding the design to intercept the corn-fleet of Alexandria is referred to in the use of the word "monopolist."

IV

(_And Anthony beholds before him a vast basilica._

_The light gushes from the further end, marvellous as a multi-colored sun. It illuminates the innumerable heads of the crowd that fills the nave, and that eddies about the columns toward the side-aisles--where can be perceived, in wooden compartments, altars, beds, little chains of blue stones linked together, and constellations painted upon the walls._

_In the midst of the throng there are groups which remain motionless. Men standing upon stools harangue with fingers uplifted; others are praying, with arms outstretched in form of a cross; others are lying prostrate upon the pavement, or singing hymns, or drinking wine; others of the faithful, seated about a table, celebrate their agape;[1] martyrs are unbandaging their limbs in order to show their wounds; and aged men, leaning upon staffs, recount their voyages._