An invitation from the Emperor to remain and view the procession marching up the heights of Blacherne had been of itself a compliment; but the erection of a stand for the Prince turned the compliment into a personal honor. To say truth, however, he really desired to see the Pannychides, or in plain parlance1, the Vigils. He had often heard of them as of prodigious2 effect upon the participants. Latterly they had fallen into neglect; and knowing how difficult it is to revive a dying custom, he imagined the spectacle would be poor and soon over. While reflecting on it, he looked out of the window and was surprised to see the night falling. He yielded then to restlessness, until suddenly an idea arose and absorbed him.
Suppose the Emperor won to his scheme; was its success assured? So used was he to thinking of the power of kings and emperors as the sole essential to the things he proposed that in this instance he had failed to concede importance to the Church; and probably he would have gone on in the delusion4 but for the Mysteries which were now to pass before him. They forced him to think of the power religious organizations exercise over men.
And this Church--this old Byzantine Church! Ay, truly! The Byzantine conscience was under its direction; it was the Father Confessor of the Empire; its voice in the common ear was the voice of God. To cast Christ out of its system would be like wrenching5 a man's heart out of his body. It was here and there--everywhere in fact--in signs, trophies6, monuments --in crosses and images--in monasteries7, convents, houses to the Saints, houses to the Mother. What could the Emperor do, if it were obstinate8 and defiant9? The night beheld10 through the window crept into the Wanderer's heart, and threatened to put out the light kindled11 there by the new-born hope with which he had come from the audience.
"The Church, the Church! It is the enemy I have to fear," he kept muttering in dismal12 repetition, realizing, for the first time, the magnitude of the campaign before him. With a wisdom in wickedness which none of his successors in design have shown, he saw the Christian13 idea in the bosom14 of the Church unassailable except a substitute satisfactory to its professors could be found. Was God a sufficient substitute? Perhaps--and he turned cold with the reflection--the Pannychides were bringing him an answer. It was an ecclesiastical affair, literally15 a meeting of Churchmen en masse. Where--when--how could the Church present itself to any man more an actuality in the flesh? Perhaps--and a chill set his very crown to crawling--perhaps the opportunity to study the spectacle was more a mercy of God than a favor of Constantine.
To his great relief, at length the officer who had escorted him from the Grand Gate came into the room.
"I am to have the honor," he said, cheerfully, "of conducting you to the stand His Majesty16 has prepared that you may at ease behold17 the Mysteries appointed for the night. The head of the procession is reported appearing. If it please you, Prince of India, we will set out."
"I am ready."
The position chosen for the Prince was on the right bank of a cut through which the road passed on its ascent18 from the arched gateway19 by the Chapel20 to the third terrace, and he was borne thither21 in his sedan.
Upon alighting, he found himself on a platform covered by a canopy22, carpeted and furnished with one chair comfortably cushioned. At the right of the chair there was a pyramid of coals glowing in a brazier, and lest that might not be a sufficient provision against the damps of the hours, a great cloak was near at hand. In front of the platform he observed a pole securely planted and bearing a basket of inflammables ready for conversion24 into a torch. In short, everything needful to his well-being25, including wine and water on a small tripod, was within reach.
Before finally seating himself the Prince stepped out to the brow of the terrace, whence he noticed the Chapel below him in the denser26 darkness of the trees about it like a pool. The gleam of armor on the area by the Grand Gate struck him with sinister27 effect. Flowers saluted28 him with perfume, albeit29 he could not see them. Not less welcome was the low music with which the brook30 cheered itself while dancing down to the harbor. Besides a cresset burning on the landing outside the Port entrance, two other lights were visible; one on the Pharos, the other on the great Galata tower, looking in the distance like large stars. With these exceptions, the valley and the hill opposite Blacherne, and the wide-reaching Metropolis31 beyond them, were to appearances a blacker cloud dropped from the clouded sky. A curious sound now came to him from the direction of the city. Was it a rising wind? Or a muffled32 roll from the sea? While wondering, some one behind him said:
"They are coming."
The voice was sepulchral33 and harsh, and the Prince turned quickly to the speaker.
"Ah, Father Theophilus!"
"They are coming," the Father repeated.
The Prince shivered slightly. The noise beyond the valley arose more distinctly.
"Are they singing?" he asked.
"Chanting," the other answered.
"Why do they chant?"
"Knowest thou our Scriptures34?"
The Wanderer quieted a disdainful impulse, and answered:
"I have read them."
The Father continued:
"Presently thou wilt35 hear the words of Job: 'Oh, that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou wouldst keep me in secret, until thy wrath36 be past, that thou wouldst appoint me a set time and remember me.'"
The Prince was startled. Why was one in speech so like a ghost selected his companion? And that verse, of all to him most afflicting37, and which in hours of despair he had repeated until his very spirit had become colored with its reproachful plaint--who put it in the man's mouth?
The chant came nearer. Of melody it had nothing; nor did those engaged in it appear in the slightest attentive38 to time. Yet it brought relief to the Prince, willing as he was to admit he had never heard anything similar--anything so sorrowful, so like the wail39 of the damned in multitude. And rueful as the strain was, it helped him assign the pageant40 a near distance, a middle distance, and then interminability.
"There appear to be a great many of them," he remarked to the Father.
"More than ever before in the observance," was the reply.
"Is there a reason for it?"
"Our dissensions."
The Father did not see the pleased expression of his auditor's face, but proceeded: "Yes, our dissensions. They multiply. At first the jar was between the Church and the throne; now it is the Church against the Church--a Roman party and a Greek party. One man among us has concentrated in himself the learning and devotion of the Christian East. You will see him directly, George Scholarius. By visions, like those in which the old prophets received the counsel of God, he was instructed to revive the Pannychides. His messengers have gone hither and thither, to the monasteries, the convents, and the eremitic colonies wherever accessible. The greater the presence, he says, the greater the influence."
"Scholarius is a wise man," the Prince said, diplomatically.
"His is the wisdom of the Prophets," the Father answered.
"Is he the Patriarch?"
"No, the Patriarch is of the Roman party--Scholarius of the Greek."
"And Constantine?"
"A good king, truly, but, alas41; he is cumbered with care of the State."
"Yes, yes," said the Prince. "And the care leads to neglect of his soul. Kings are sometimes to be pitied. But there is then a special object in the Vigils?"
"The Vigils to-night are for the restoration of the unities42 once more, that the Church may find peace and the State its power and glory again. God is in the habit of taking care of His own."
"Thank you, Father, I see the difference. Scholarius would intrust the State to the Holy Virgin44; but Constantine, with a worldlier inspiration, adheres to the craft held by Kings immemorially. The object of the Vigils is to bring the Emperor to abandon his policy and defer45 to Scholarius?"
"The Emperor assists in the Mystery," the Father answered, vaguely46.
The procession meantime came on, and when its head appeared in front of the Grand Gate three trumpeters blew a flourish which called the guards into line. A monk47 advanced and held parley48 with an officer; after which he was given a lighted torch, and passed under the portal in lead of the multitude. The trumpeters continued plying49 their horns, marking the slow ascent.
"Were this an army," said Father Theophilus, "it would not be so laborious50; but, alas! the going of youth is nowhere so rapid as in a cloister51; nor is age anywhere so feeble. Ten years kneeling on a stony52 floor in a damp cell brings the anchorite to forget he ever walked with ease."
The Prince scarcely heard him; he was interested in the little to be seen crossing the area below--a column four abreast53, broken into unequal divisions, each division with a leader, who, at the gate, received a torch. Occasionally a square banner on a cross-stick appeared-- occasionally a section in light-colored garments; more frequently a succession of heads without covering of any kind; otherwise the train was monotonously54 rueful, and in its slow movement out of the darkness reminded the spectator on the height of a serpent crawling endlessly from an underground den3. Afterwhile the dim white of the pavement was obscured by masses stationary55 on the right and left of the column; these were the people stopping there because for them there was no further pursuit of the spectral56 parade.
The horns gave sonorous57 notice of the progress during the ascent. Now they were passing along the first terrace; still the divisions were incessant58 down by the gate--still the chanting continued, a dismal dissonance in the distance, a horrible discord59 near by. If it be true that the human voice is music's aptest instrument, it is also true that nothing vocalized in nature can excel it in the expression of diabolism.
Suddenly the first torch gleamed on the second terrace scarce an hundred yards from the Chapel.
"See him now there, behind the trumpeters--Scholarius!" said Father Theophilus, with a semblance61 of animation62.
"He with the torch?"
"Ay!--And he might throw the torch away, and still be the light of the Church."
The remark did not escape the Prince. The man who could so impress himself upon a member of the court must be a power with his brethren of the gown generally. Reflecting thus, the discerning visitor watched the figure stalking on under the torch. There are men who are causes in great events, sometimes by superiority of nature, sometimes by circumstances. What if this were one of them? And forthwith the observer ceased fancying the mystical looking monk drawing the interminable train after him by the invisible bonds of a will mightier63 than theirs in combination--the fancy became a fact. "The procession will not stop at the Chapel," the Father said; "but keep on to the palace, where the Emperor will join it. If my Lord cares to see the passage distinctly, I will fire the basket here."
"Do so," the Prince replied.
The flambeau was fired.
It shed light over the lower terraces right and left, and brought the palace in the upper space into view from the base of the forward building to the Tower of Isaac; and here, close by, the Chapel with all its appurtenances, paved enclosure, speeding brook, solemn cypresses65, and the wall and arched gateway at the hither side stood out in almost daytime clearness. The road in the cut underfoot must bring the frocked host near enough to expose its spirit.
The bellowing66 of the horns frightened the birds at roost in the melancholy67 grove68, and taking wing, they flew blindly about.
Then ensued the invasion of the enclosure in front of the Chapel-- Scholarius next the musicians. The Prince saw him plainly; a tall man, stoop-shouldered, angular as a skeleton; his hood69 thrown back; head tonsured70; the whiteness of the scalp conspicuous71 on account of the band of black hair at the base; the features high and thin, cheeks hollow, temples pinched. The dark brown cassock, leaving an attenuated72 neck completely exposed, hung from his frame apparently73 much too large for it. His feet disdained74 sandals. At the brook he halted, and letting the crucifix fall from his right hand, he stooped and dipped the member thus freed into the water, and rising flung the drops in air. Resuming the crucifix, he marched on.
It cannot be said there was admiration75 in the steady gaze with which the Prince kept the monk in eye; the attraction was stronger--he was looking for a sign from him. He saw the tall, nervous figure cross the brook with a faltering76, uncertain step, pass the remainder of the pavement, the torch in one hand, the holy symbol in the other; then it disappeared under the arch of the gate; and when it had come through, the sharp espial was beforehand with it, and waiting. It commenced ascending77 the acute grade--now it was in the cut--and now, just below the Prince, it had but to look up, and its face would be on a level with his feet. At exactly the right moment, Scholarius did look up, and--stop.
The interchange of glances between the men was brief, and can be likened to nothing so aptly as sword blades crossing in a red light.
Possibly the monk, trudging78 on, his mind intent upon something which was part of a scene elsewhere, or on the objects and results of the solemnities in celebration, as yet purely79 speculative80, might have been disagreeably surprised at discovering himself the subject of study by a stranger whose dress proclaimed him a foreigner; possibly the Prince's stare, which we have already seen was at times powerfully magnetic, filled him with aversion and resentment81; certain it is he raised his head, showing a face full of abhorrence82, and at the same time waved the crucifix as if in exorcism.
The Prince had time to see the image thus presented was of silver on a cross of ivory wrought83 to wonderful realism. The face was dying, not dead; there were the spikes84 in the hands and feet, the rent in the side, the crown of thorns, and overhead the initials of the inscription85: This is the King of the Jews. There was the worn, buffeted86, bloodspent body, and the lips were parted so it was easy to think the sufferer in mid23-utterance of one of the exclamations87 which have placed his Divinity forever beyond successful denial. The swift reversion of memory excited in the beholder88 might have been succeeded by remorse89, but for the cry:
"Thou enemy of Jesus Christ--avaunt!"
It was the voice of Scholarius, shrill90 and high; and before the Prince could recover from the shock, before he could make answer, or think of answering, the visionary was moving on; nor did he again look back.
The sepulchral tone of Father Theophilus was powerful over the benumbed faculties92 of His Majesty's guest; and he answered with a question:
"Is not thy friend Scholarius a great preacher?"
"On his lips the truth is most unctuous93."
"It must be so--it must be so! For"--the Prince's manner was as if he were settling a grave altercation94 in his own mind--"for never did a man offer me the Presence so vitalized in an image. I am not yet sure but he gave me to see the Holy Son of the Immaculate Mother in flesh and blood exactly as when they put Him so cruelly to death. Or can it be, Father, that the effect upon me was in greater measure due to the night, the celebration, the cloud of ministrants, the serious objects of the Vigils?"
The answer made Father Theophilus happy as a man of his turn could be--he was furnished additional evidence of the spiritual force of Scholarius, his ideal.
"No," he answered, "it was God in the man."
All this time the chanting had been coming nearer, and now the grove rang with it. A moment, and the head of the first division must present itself in front of the Chapel. Could the Wanderer have elected then whether to depart or stay, the Pannychides would have had no further assistance from him--so badly had the rencounter with Scholarius shaken him. Not that he was afraid in the vulgar sense of the term. Before a man can habitually95 pray for death, he must be long lost to fear. If we can imagine conscience gone, pride of achievement, without which there can be no mortification96 or shame in defeat, may yet remain with him, a source of dread97 and weakness. The chill which shook Brutus in his tent the evening before Philippi was not in the least akin43 to terror. So with the Prince at this juncture98. There to measure the hold of the Christian idea upon the Church, it seemed Scholarius had brought him an answer which finished his interest in the passing Vigils. In brief, the Reformer's interest in the Mystery was past, and he wished with his whole soul to retreat to the sedan, but a fascination99 held him fast.
"I think it would be pleasanter sitting," he said, and returned to the platform.
"If I presume to take the chair, Father," he added, "it is because I am older than thou."
Hardly was he thus at ease when a precentor, fat, and clad in a long gown, stepped out of the grove to the clear lighted pavement in front of the Chapel. His shaven head was thrown back, his mouth open to its fullest stretch, and tossing a white stick energetically up and down in the air, he intoned with awful distinctness: "The waters wear the stones. Thou washest away the things which grow out of the dust of the earth, and Thou destroyest the hopes of man."
The Prince covered his ears with his hands.
"Thou likest not the singing?" Father Theophilus asked, and continued: "I admit the graces have little to do with musical practice in the holy houses of the Fathers." But he for whom the comfort was meant made no reply. He was repeating to himself: "Thou prevailest forever against him, and he passeth."
And to these words the head of the first division strode forward into the light. The Prince dropped his hands in time to hear the last verse: "But his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn."
For whom was this? Did the singers know the significancy of the text to him? The answer was from God, and they were merely messengers bringing it. He rose to his feet; in his rebellious100 passion the world seemed to melt and swim about him. He felt a longing101 to burn, break, destroy--to strike out and kill. When he came to himself, Father Theophilus, who thought him merely wonder struck by the mass of monks102 in march, was saying in his most rueful tone: "Good order required a careful arrangement of the procession; for though the participants are pledged to godly life, yet they sometimes put their vows103 aside temporarily. The holiest of them have pride in their establishments, and are often too ready to resort to arms of the flesh to assert their privileges. The Fathers of the Islands have long been jealous of the Fathers of the city, and to put them together would be a signal for riot. Accordingly there are three grand divisions here--the monks of Constantinople, those of the Islands, the shores of the Bosphorus and the three seas, and finally the recluses104 and hermits105 from whatever quarter. Lo! first the Fathers of the Studium--saintly men as thou wilt see anywhere."
The speech was unusually long for the Father; a fortunate circumstance of which the Prince availed himself to recover his self-possession. By the time the brethren eulogized were moving up the rift106 at his feet, he was able to observe them calmly. They were in long gowns of heavy gray woollen stuff, with sleeves widening from the shoulders; their cowls, besides covering head and visage, fell down like capes107. Cleanly, decent-looking men, they marched slowly and in order, their hands united palm to palm below their chins. The precentor failed to inspire them with his fury of song.
"These now coming," Father Theophilus said of the second fraternity," are conventuals of Petrion, who have their house looking out on the harbor here. And these," he said of the third, "are of the Monastery108 of Anargyres--a very ancient society. The Emperor Michael, surnamed the Paphlegonian, died in one of their cells in 1041. Brotherhood109 with them is equivalent to saintship."
Afterwhile a somewhat tumultuous flock appeared in white skirts and loose yellow cloaks, their hair and beard uncut and flying. The historian apologized.
"Bear with them," he said; "they are mendicants from the retreats of Periblepte, in the quarter of Psammatica. You may see them on the street corners and quays110, and in all public places, sick, blind, lame111 and covered with sores. They have St. Lazarus for patron. At night an angel visits them with healing. They refuse to believe the age of miracles is past."
The city monastics were a great host carrying banners with the name of their Brotherhoods112 inscribed113 in golden letters; and in every instance the Hegumen, or Abbot, preceded his fraternity torch in hand.
A company in unrelieved black marched across the brook, and their chanting was lugubrious114 as their garb115.
"Petra sends us these Fathers," said Theophilus--"Petra over on the south side. They sleep all day and watch at night. The second coming they say will happen in the night, because they think that time most favorable for the trumpeting116 herald117 and the splendor118 of the manifestations119."
Half an hour of marching--men in gray and black and yellow, a few in white--men cowled--men shorn and unshorn--barefooted men and men in sandals--a river of men in all moods, except jovial120 and happy, toiling121 by the observing stand, seldom an upturned face, spectral, morose122, laden123 body and mind--young and old looking as if just awakened124 after ages of entombment;--a half hour of dismal chanting the one chapter from the book of the man in the land of Uz, of all utterances125 the most dismal;--a half hour of waiting by the Prince for one kindly126 sign, without discovering it--a half hour, in which, if the comparison be not too strong, he was like a soul keeping watch over its own abandoned body. Then Father Theophilus said:
"From the cloisters127 of St. James of Manganese! The richest of the monasteries of Constantinople, and the most powerful. It furnishes Sancta Sophia with renowned128 preachers. Its brethren cultivate learning. Their library is unexcelled, and they boast that in the hundreds of years of their society life, they had never an heretic. Before their altars the candles are kept burning and trimmed forever. Their numbers are recruited from the noblest families. Young men to whom the army is open prefer God-service in the elegant retirement129 of St. James of Manganese. They will interest you, Prince; and after them we will have the second grand division."
"Brethren of the Islands?"
"Yes, of the Islands and the sea-shores."
Upon the pavement then appeared a precentor attired130 like a Greek priest of the present day; a rimless131 hat black and high, and turned slightly outward at the top; a veil of the same hue132; the hair gathered into a roll behind, and secured under the hat; a woollen gown very dark, glossy133, and dropping in ample folds unconfined from neck to shoe. The Hegumen followed next, and because of his age and infirmities a young man carried the torch for him. The chanting was sweet, pure, and in perfect time. All these evidences of refinement134 and respectability were noticed by the Prince, and looking at the torch-bearer again, he recognized the young monk, his room-mate in the White Castle.
"Knowest thou the youth yonder?" he asked, pointing to Sergius.
"A Russian recently arrived," the Father replied. "Day before yesterday he was brought to the palace and presented to the Emperor by the Princess Irene. He made a great impression."
The two kept their eyes on the young man until he disappeared ascending the hill.
"He will be heard from;" and with the prediction the Prince gave attention to the body of the Brotherhood.
"These men have the bearing of soldiers," he said presently.
"Their vows respecting war are liberal. If the panagia were carried to the walls, they would accompany it in armor."
The Prince smiled. He had not the faith in the Virgin of Blacherne which the Father's answer implied.
The St. James' were long in passing. The Prince kept them in sight to the last four. They were the aristocracy of the Church, prim135, proud; as their opportunities were more frequent, doubtless they were more wicked than their associates of the humbler fraternities; yet he could not promise himself favor from their superior liberality. On the contrary, having a great name for piety136 to defend, if a test offered, they were the more certain to be hard and vindictive--to send a heretic to the stake, and turn a trifling137 variation from the creed138 into heresy139.
"Who is this?" the Prince exclaimed, as a noble-looking man in full canonicals stepped out of the cypress64 shadows, first of the next division.
"Master of Ceremonies for the Church," Father Theophilus replied. "He is the wall between the Islanders and the Metropolitans140."
"And he who walks with him singing?"
"The Protopsolete--leader of the Patriarch's Choir141."
Behind this singer the monks of the Isles142 of the Princes! In movement, order, dress, like their predecessors143 in the march--Hegumen with their followers144 in gray, black and white--hands palm to palm prayerfully-- chanting sometimes better, sometimes worse--never a look upward but always down, as if Heaven were a hollow in the earth, an abyss at their feet, and they about to step into it.
The Prince was beginning to tire. Suddenly he thought of the meeting of pilgrims at El Zaribah. How unlike was the action there and here! That had been a rush, an inundation145, as it were, by the sea, fierce, mad, a passion of Faith fostered by freedom; this, slow, solemn, sombre, oppressive--what was it like? Death in Life, and burial by programme so rigid146 there must not be a groan147 more or a tear less. He saw Law in it all--or was it imposition, force, choice smothered148 by custom, fashion masquerading in the guise149 of Faith? The hold of Christ upon the Church began to look possible of measurement.
"Roti first!" said the Father. "Rocky and bare, scarce a bush for a bird or grass for a cricket. Ah, verily he shall love God dearly or hate the world mortally who of free will chooses a cloister for life at Roti!"
The brethren of the three convents of the Island marched past clad in short brown frocks, bareheaded, barefooted. The comments of the historian were few and brief.
"Poor they look," he said of the first one, "and poor they are, yet Michael Rhangabe and Romain Lacapene were glad to live and die with them." Of the second: "When Romain Diogenes built the house these inhabit, he little dreamed it would shelter him, a refugee from the throne." Of the third: "Dardanes was a great general. In his fortunate days he built a tower on Roti with one cell in it; in an evil hour he aspired150 to the throne--failed--lost his eyes, retired151 to his lonesome tower--by his sanctity there drew a fraternity to him, and died. That was hundreds of years ago. The brethren still pray for his soul. Be it that evil comes of good; not less does good come of evil--and so God keeps the balances."
In the same manner he descanted on the several contingents152 from Antigone as they strode by; then of those from God's houses at Halki, the pearl of the Marmora; amongst them the monastery of John the Precursor153, and the Convents of St. George, Hagia Trias, and lastly the Very Holy House of the All Holy Mother of God, founded by John VIII. Palaeologus. After them, in turn, the consecrated154 from Prinkipo, especially those from the Kamares of the Basilissa, Irene, and the Convent of the Transfiguration.
The faithful few from the solitary155 Convent on the Island of Oxia, and the drab-gowned abstinents of the monastery of Plati, miserables given to the abnormity of mixing prayer and penance156 with the cultivation157 of snails158 for the market in Constantinople, were the last of the Islanders.
Then in a kind of orderly disorganization the claustral inculpables from holy houses on Olympus down by the Dardanelles, the Bosphorus, and the Bithynian shore behind the Isles of the Princes, and some from retreats in the Egean and along the Peloponnesus, their walls now dust, their names forgotten.
"Where is the procession going?" the Prince now asked.
"Look behind you--up along the front of the palace."
And casting his eyes thither, the questioner beheld the ground covered with a mass of men not there before.
"What are they doing?"
"Awaiting the Emperor. Only the third grand division is wanting now; when it is up His Majesty will appear."
"And descend159 to the Chapel?"
"Yes."
For a time a noise more like the continuous, steady monotone of falling water than a chant had been approaching from the valley, making its darkness vocal60. It threatened the gates awhile; now it was at the gates. The Prince's wonder was great, and to appease160 it Father Theophilus explained:
"The last division is at hand."
In the dim red light over the area by the gate below, the visitor beheld figures hurriedly issuing from the night--figures in the distance so wild and fantastic they did not at first seem human. They left no doubt, however, whence the sound proceeded. The white sand of the road up the terraces was beaten to dust under the friction161 and pressure of the thousands of feet gone before; this third division raised it into an attending cloud, and the cloud and the noise were incessant.
Once more the Prince went out to the brink162 of the terrace. The monotony of the pageant was broken; something new was announcing itself. Spectres--devils--gnomes and jinn of the Islamitic Solomon--rakshakas and hanumen of the Eastern Iliads--surely this miscellany was a composition of them all. They danced along the way and swung themselves and each other, howling like dervishes in frenzy163. Again the birds took wing and flew blindly above the cypresses, and the end of things seemed about to burst when a yell articulate yet unintelligible164 shook the guarded door of the venerable Chapel.
Then the demoniacs--the Prince could not make else of them--leaping the brook, crowding the pent enclosure, hasting to the arched exit, were plainly in view. Men almost naked, burned to hue of brick-dust; men in untanned sheepskin coats and mantles165; men with every kind of headgear, turbans, handkerchiefs, cowls; men with hair and beard matted and flying; now one helped himself to a louder yell by tossing in air the dirty garment he had torn from his body, hirsute167 as a goat's; now one leaped up agile168 as a panther; now one turned topsy-turvy; now groups of them swirled169 together like whimsical eddies170 in a pool. Some went slowly, their arms outspread in silent ecstasy171; some stalked on with parted lips and staring eyes, trance-like or in dead drunkenness of soul; nevertheless the great majority of them, too weary and far spent for violent exertion172, marched with their faces raised, and clapping their hands or beating their breasts, now barking short and sharp, like old hounds dreaming, then finishing with long-drawn cries not unlike the ending of a sorrowful chorus. Through the gate they crowded, and at sight of their faces full of joy unto madness, the Prince quit pitying them, and, reminded of the Wahabbees at El Zaribah, turned to Father Theophilus.
"In God's name," he said, "who are these?"
"A son of India thou, and not know them at sight?"
There was surprise in the question, and a degree of unwarranted familiarity, yet the Father immediately corrected himself, by solemnly adding: "Look there at that one whirling his mantle166 of unshorn skin over his head. He has a cave on Mt. Olympus furnished with a stool, a crucifix, and a copy of the Holy Scriptures; he sleeps on the stone; the mantle is his bedding by night, his clothing by day. He raises vegetables, and they and snow-water seeping173 through a crevice174 in his cavern175 subsist176 him.... And the next him--the large man with the great coat of camel's hair which keeps him scratched as with thorns--he is from the Monastery of St. Auxentius, the abode177 of a powerful fraternity of ascetics178. A large proportion of this wing of the celebrants is of the same austere179 house. You will know them by the penitential, dun-colored garment--they wear no other.... Yonder is a brother carrying his right arm at a direct angle above his shoulder, stiff and straight as a stick of seasoned oak. He is of a colony of Stylites settled on this shore of the upper Bosphorus overlooking the Black Sea. He could not lower the arm if he wished to; but since it is his certificate of devoutness181, the treasures of the earth laid at his feet in a heap would be insufficient182 to induce him to drop it though for an instant. His colony is one of many like it. Spare him thy pity. He believes the clinch183 of that hand holds fast the latch184 of Heaven.... The shouters who have just entered the arch in a body have hermitaries in close grouping around the one failing monastery on Plati, and live on lentils and snails; aside from which they commit themselves to Christ, and so abound185 in faith that the Basileus in his purple would be very happy were he true master of a tithe186 of their happiness.... Hast thou not enough, O Prince? Those crossing the brook now?--Ah, yes! They are anchorites from Anderovithos, the island. Pitiable creatures looked at from the curtained windows of a palace--pitiable, and abandoned by men and angels! Be not sure. Everything is as we happen to see it--a bit of philosophy, which, as they despise the best things secularly187 considered of this life, steels them to indifference188 for what you and I, and others not of their caste, may think. They have arrived at a summit above the corrupting189 atmosphere of the earth, where every one of them has already the mansion190 promised him by our Blessed Lord, and where the angels abide191 and delight to serve him.... For the rest, O Prince, call them indifferently recluses, hermits, anticenobites, mystics, martyrs192, these from Europe, those from isolations deep somewhere in Asia. Who feeds them? Did not ravens193 feed Elijah? Offer them white bread and robes of silk, yesterday's wear of a king. 'What!' they will ask. 'Shall any man fare better than John the Forerunner194?' Speak to them of comfortable habitations, and they will answer with the famous saying, 'Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head.' What more is there to be said? Thou seest them, thou knowest them."
Yes, the Prince knew them. Like the horde195 which stood by the Black Stone envious196 of Mirza's dying, these were just as ready to die for Christ. He smiled grimly, and thought of Mahommed, and how easy the Church had made the conquest of which he was dreaming.
It was with a sense of relief he beheld the tail of the division follow its body up to the palace.
Then, last of all, came the dignitaries of the Church, the Cartulaire, least in rank, with many intermediates, up to the Cyncelle, who, next to the absent Patriarch, represented him. If what had preceded in the procession was poor and unpretentious, this part was splendid to excess. They were not more than eighteen or twenty in number, but they walked singly with considerable intervals197 between them; while on the right and left of each, a liveried servant carried a torch which gave him to be distinctly seen. And the flashing of gold on their persons was wonderful to the spectator. Why not? This rare and anointed body was the Church going in solemnity to assist the Basileus in a high ceremony.
Afterwhile the Emperor appeared descending198 to the Chapel.
To the Prince's amazement199, he was in a plain, priestly black frock, without crown, sword, sceptre or guard; and so did his guise compare with the magnificence of the ecclesiastics200 surrounding him, he actually seemed in their midst a prisoner or a penitent180. He passed his visitor like one going from the world forgetting and forgot.
"An explanation, Father," said the Prince. "The Church is in its robes, but my august friend, the Emperor, looks as if he had suffered dethronement."
"Thou wilt presently see His Majesty enter the Chapel alone. The legend supposes him there in presence directly of God; if so, what merit would there be in regalia? Would his sword or sceptre make his supplication201 more impressive?"
The Prince bowed.
And while he watched, the gold-clad escort halted before the Holy House, the door opened, and Constantine went in unattended. Then, the door being shut behind him, the clergy202 knelt, and remained kneeling. The light from the torches was plenteous there, making the scene beautiful.
And yet further, while he stood watching, the trumpeting and chanting on the level in front of the palace behind him ceased, and a few minutes afterwards, he was aware of the noise of many feet rushing in a scramble203 from all directions to the Chapel. Here and there flambeaux streamed out, with hundreds of dark-gowned excited figures speeding after them as best they could.
The bank the Prince occupied was overrun, like other contiguous spaces. The object of the invaders204 was to secure a position near the revered205 building as possible; for immediately on attaining206 it they dropped to their knees, and began counting their rosaries and mumbling207 prayers. At length it befell that the terraces far and near were densely208 crowded by monks in low recitation.
"My Lord," said Father Theophilus, in a tone of reserved depth, "the Mystery is begun. There is no more to be seen. Good-night!" And without ado, he too knelt where he stood, beads209 in hand, eyes fixed210 upon the one point of devotional interest.
When the sedan was brought, the Prince gave one last glance at the scene, feeling it was to be thenceforward and forever a burden on his memory. He took in and put away the weather-stained Chapel, centre of so much travail211; the narrow court in front of it brilliantly lighted and covered with priests high and low in glittering vestments; the cypresses looming212 skyward, stately and stiff, like conical monuments: the torches scattered213 over the grounds, revealing patches of men kneeling, their faces turned toward the Chapel: the mumbling and muttering from parts unlighted telling of other thousands in like engagement. He had seen battle-fields fresh in their horrors; decks of ships still bloody214; shores strewn with wreckage215 and drowned sailors, and the storm not spent; populous216 cities shaken down by earthquakes, the helpless under the ruins pleading for help; but withal never had he seen anything which affected217 him as did that royal park at mid of night, given up to that spectral multitude!
It seemed he could not get away from the spectacle soon enough; for after issuing from the Grand Gate, he kept calling to his carriers, impatiently: "Faster, my men, faster!"
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parlance
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| n.说法；语调 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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monasteries
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| 修道院( monastery的名词复数 ) | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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scriptures
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| 经文，圣典( scripture的名词复数 )； 经典 | |
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wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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afflicting
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| 痛苦的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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unities
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| n.统一体( unity的名词复数 )；（艺术等） 完整；（文学、戏剧） （情节、时间和地点的）统一性；团结一致 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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defer
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| vt.推迟，拖延；vi.(to)遵从，听从，服从 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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51
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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52
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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57
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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cypress
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| n.柏树 | |
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cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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66
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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tonsured
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| v.剃( tonsure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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disdained
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| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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99
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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100
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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101
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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102
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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103
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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104
recluses
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| n.隐居者，遁世者，隐士( recluse的名词复数 ) | |
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105
hermits
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| （尤指早期基督教的）隐居修道士，隐士，遁世者( hermit的名词复数 ) | |
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106
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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107
capes
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| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
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108
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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109
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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110
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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111
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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112
brotherhoods
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| 兄弟关系( brotherhood的名词复数 )； （总称）同行； （宗教性的）兄弟会； 同业公会 | |
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113
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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114
lugubrious
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| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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115
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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116
trumpeting
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的现在分词形式） | |
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117
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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118
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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119
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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120
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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121
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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122
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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123
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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124
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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125
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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126
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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127
cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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128
renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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129
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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130
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
rimless
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| adj.无边的 | |
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132
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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133
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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134
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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135
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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136
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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137
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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138
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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139
heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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140
metropolitans
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| n.大都会的( metropolitan的名词复数 )；大城市的；中心地区的；正宗的 | |
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141
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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142
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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143
predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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144
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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145
inundation
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| n.the act or fact of overflowing | |
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146
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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147
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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148
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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149
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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150
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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152
contingents
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| （志趣相投、尤指来自同一地方的）一组与会者( contingent的名词复数 )； 代表团； （军队的）分遣队； 小分队 | |
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153
precursor
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| n.先驱者；前辈；前任；预兆；先兆 | |
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154
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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155
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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156
penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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157
cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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158
snails
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| n.蜗牛；迟钝的人；蜗牛( snail的名词复数 ) | |
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159
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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160
appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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161
friction
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| n.摩擦，摩擦力 | |
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162
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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163
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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164
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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165
mantles
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| vt.&vi.覆盖（mantle的第三人称单数形式） | |
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166
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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167
hirsute
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| adj.多毛的 | |
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168
agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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169
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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170
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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171
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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172
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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173
seeping
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| v.（液体）渗( seep的现在分词 )；渗透；渗出；漏出 | |
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174
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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175
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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176
subsist
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| vi.生存，存在，供养 | |
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177
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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178
ascetics
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| n.苦行者，禁欲者，禁欲主义者( ascetic的名词复数 ) | |
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179
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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180
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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181
devoutness
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| 朝拜 | |
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182
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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183
clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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184
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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185
abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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186
tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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187
secularly
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| 现世的，俗界的； 长期的，长久的； 不朽的； 一世纪一次的 | |
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188
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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189
corrupting
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的现在分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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190
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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191
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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192
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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193
ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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194
forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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195
horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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196
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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197
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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198
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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199
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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200
ecclesiastics
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| n.神职者，教会，牧师( ecclesiastic的名词复数 ) | |
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201
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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202
clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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203
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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204
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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205
revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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206
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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207
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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208
densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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209
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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210
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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211
travail
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| n.阵痛；努力 | |
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212
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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213
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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214
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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215
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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216
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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217
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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