Scythia, Theophilus! another of Persia, John! a keeper of beasts, Spiridion! Alexander was too old. Athanasius ought to have shown more gentleness towards the Arians, so as to have obtained concessions from them.
"Yet would they have made any? They would not hear me! The one who spoke against me – a tall young man with a curly beard – uttered the most captious objections to my argument; and while I was seeking words to express my views they all stared at me with their wicked faces, and barked like hyenas. Ah! why cannot I have them all exiled by the Emperor! or rather have them beaten, crushed, and see them suffer! I suffer enough myself."
(He leans against his cabin in a fainting condition.)
"It is because I have fasted too long; my strength is leaving me. If I could eat – only once more – a piece of meat." (He half closes his eyes with languor.)
"Ah! some red flesh – a bunch of grapes to bite into … curdled milk that trembles on a plate!..
"But what has come upon me? What is the matter with me? I feel my heart enlarging like the sea, when it swells before the storm. An unspeakable feebleness weighs down upon me, and the warm air seems to waft me the perfume of a woman's hair. No woman has approached this place; nevertheless? – "
(He gazes toward the little pathway between the rocks.)
"That is the path by which they come, rocked in their litters by the black arms of the eunuchs. They descend and joining their hands, heavy with rings, kneel down before me. They relate to me all their troubles. The desire of human pleasure tortures them; they would gladly die; they have seen in their dreams God calling to them … and all the while the hems of their robes fall upon my feet. I repel them from me. 'Ah! no!' they cry, 'not yet! What shall I do?' They gladly accept any penitence I impose on them. They ask for the hardest of all; they beg to share mine and to live with me.
"It is now a long time since I have seen any of them! Perhaps some of them will come! why not? If I could only hear again, all of a sudden, the tinkling of mule-bells among the mountains. It seems to me…"
(Anthony clambers upon a rock at the entrance of the pathway, and leans over, darting his eyes into the darkness.)
"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.)
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
