Part 2 (2/2)
The porter tremblingly murmured--
”Who is this man who is not afraid of suffering?”
And he ran and told his master.
Nicias had just left the bath. Two pretty slave girls were sc.r.a.ping him with strigils. He was a pleasant-looking man, with a kind smile. There was an expression of gentle satire in his face. On seeing the monk, he rose and advanced with open arms.
”It is you!” he cried, ”Paphnutius, my fellow-scholar, my friend my brother! Oh, I knew you again, though, to say the truth, you look more like a wild animal than a man. Embrace me. Do you remember the time when we studied grammar, rhetoric, and philosophy together? You were, even then, of a morose and wild character, but I liked you because of your complete sincerity. We used to say that you looked at the universe with the eyes of a wild horse, and it was not surprising you were dull and moody. You needed a pinch of Attic salt, but your liberality knew no bounds. You cared nothing for either your money or your life. And you had the eccentricity of genius, and a strange character which interested me deeply. You are welcome, my dear Paphnutius, after ten years of absence. You have quitted the desert; you have renounced all Christian superst.i.tions, and now return to your old life. I will mark this day with a white stone.”
”Crobyle and Myrtale,” he added, turning towards the girls, ”perfume the feet, hands, and beard of my dear guest.”
They smiled, and had already brought the basin, the phials, and the metal mirror. But Paphnutius stopped them with an imperious gesture, and lowered his eyes that he might not look upon them, for they were naked.
Nicias brought cus.h.i.+ons for him, and offered him various meats and drinks, which Paphnutius scornfully refused.
”Nicias,” he said, ”I have not renounced what you falsely call the Christian superst.i.tion, which is the truth of truths. 'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with G.o.d, and the Word was G.o.d. All things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made. In Him was the life, and the life was the light of men.'”
”My dear Paphnutius,” replied Nicias, who had now put on a perfumed tunic, ”do you expect to astonish me by reciting a lot of words jumbled together without skill, which are no more than a vain murmur? Have you forgotten that I am a bit of a philosopher myself? And do you think to satisfy me with some rags, torn by ignorant men from the purple garment of AEmilius, when AEmilius, Porphyry, and Plato, in all their glory, did not satisfy me! The systems devised by the sages are but tales imagined to amuse the eternal childishness of men. We divert ourselves with them, as we do with the stories of _The a.s.s_, _The Tub_, and _The Ephesian Matron_, or any other Milesian fable.”
And, taking his guest by the arm, he led him into a room where thousands of papyri were rolled up and lay in baskets.
”This is my library,” he said. ”It contains a small part of the various systems which the philosophers have constructed to explain the world.
The Serapeium itself, with all its riches, does not contain them all.
Alas! they are but the dreams of sick men.”
He compelled his guest to sit down in an ivory chair, and sat down himself. Paphnutius scowled gloomily at all the books in the library, and said--
”They ought all to be burned.”
”Oh, my dear guest, that would be a pity!” replied Nicias. ”For the dreams of sick men are sometimes amusing. Besides, if we should destroy all the dreams and visions of men, the earth would lose its form and colours, and we should all sleep in a dull stupidity.”
Paphnutius continued in the same strain as before--
”It is certain that the doctrines of the pagans are but vain lies. But G.o.d, who is the truth, revealed Himself to men by miracles, and He was made flesh, and lived among us.”
Nicias replied--
”You speak well, my dear Paphnutius, when you say that he was made flesh. A G.o.d who thinks, acts, speaks, who wanders through nature, like Ulysses of old on the glaucous sea, is altogether a man. How do you expect that we should believe in this new Jupiter, when the urchins of Athens, in the time of Pericles, no longer believed in the old one?
”But let us leave all that. You did not come here; I suppose, to argue about the three hypostases. What can I do for you, my dear fellow-scholar?”
”A good deed,” replied the Abbot of Antinoe. ”Lend me a perfumed tunic, like the one you have just put on. Be kind enough to add to the tunic, gilt sandals, and a vial of oil to anoint my beard and hair. It is needful also, that you should give me a purse with a thousand drachmae in it. That, O Nicias, is what I came to ask of you, for the love of G.o.d, and in remembrance of our old friends.h.i.+p.”
Nicias made Crobyle and Myrtale bring his richest tunic; it was embroidered, after the Asiatic fas.h.i.+on, with flowers and animals. The two girls held it open, and skilfully showed its bright colours, waiting till Paphnutius should have taken off the ca.s.sock which covered him down to his feet. But the monk having declared that they should rather tear off his flesh than this garment, they put on the tunic over it. As the two girls were pretty, they were not afraid of men, although they were slaves. They laughed at the strange appearance of the monk thus clad.
Crobyle called him her dear satrap, as she presented him with the mirror, and Myrtale pulled his beard. But Paphnutius prayed to the Lord, and did not look at them. Having tied on the gilt sandals, and fastened the purse to his belt, he said to Nicias, who was looking at him with an amused expression--
”O Nicias, let not these things be an offence in your eyes. For know that I shall make pious use of this tunic, this purse, and these sandals.”
<script>