Miscellanies - LightNovelsOnl.com
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FIRST MAN. We wors.h.i.+p seven G.o.ds. We may not tell their names. It is a very dangerous thing to tell the names of the G.o.ds. No one should ever tell the name of his G.o.d. Even the priests who praise the G.o.ds all day long, and eat of their food with them, do not call them by their right names.
MYRRHINA. Where are these G.o.ds ye wors.h.i.+p?
FIRST MAN. We hide them in the folds of our tunics. We do not show them to any one. If we showed them to any one they might leave us.
MYRRHINA. Where did ye meet with them?
FIRST MAN. They were given to us by an embalmer of the dead who had found them in a tomb. We served him for seven years.
MYRRHINA. The dead are terrible. I am afraid of Death.
FIRST MAN. Death is not a G.o.d. He is only the servant of the G.o.ds.
MYRRHINA. He is the only G.o.d I am afraid of. Ye have seen many of the G.o.ds?
FIRST MAN. We have seen many of them. One sees them chiefly at night time. They pa.s.s one by very swiftly. Once we saw some of the G.o.ds at daybreak. They were walking across a plain.
MYRRHINA. Once as I was pa.s.sing through the market place I heard a sophist from Cilicia say that there is only one G.o.d. He said it before many people.
FIRST MAN. That cannot be true. We have ourselves seen many, though we are but common men and of no account. When I saw them I hid myself in a bush. They did me no harm.
MYRRHINA. Tell me more about the beautiful young hermit. Talk to me about the beautiful young hermit who will not look on the face of woman.
What is the story of his days? What mode of life has he?
FIRST MAN. We do not understand you.
MYRRHINA. What does he do, the beautiful young hermit? Does he sow or reap? Does he plant a garden or catch fish in a net? Does he weave linen on a loom? Does he set his hand to the wooden plough and walk behind the oxen?
SECOND MAN. He being a very holy man does nothing. We are common men and of no account. We toil all day long in the sun. Sometimes the ground is very hard.
MYRRHINA. Do the birds of the air feed him? Do the jackals share their booty with him?
FIRST MAN. Every evening we bring him food. We do not think that the birds of the air feed him.
MYRRHINA. Why do ye feed him? What profit have ye in so doing?
SECOND MAN. He is a very holy man. One of the G.o.ds whom he has offended has made him mad. We think he has offended the moon.
MYRRHINA. Go and tell him that one who has come from Alexandria desires to speak with him.
FIRST MAN. We dare not tell him. This hour he is praying to his G.o.d. We pray thee to pardon us for not doing thy bidding.
MYRRHINA. Are ye afraid of him?
FIRST MAN. We are afraid of him.
MYRRHINA. Why are ye afraid of him?
FIRST MAN. We do not know.
MYRRHINA. What is his name?
FIRST MAN. The voice that speaks to him at night time in the cavern calls to him by the name of Honorius. It was also by the name of Honorius that the three lepers who pa.s.sed by once called to him. We think that his name is Honorius.
MYRRHINA. Why did the three lepers call to him?
FIRST MAN. That he might heal them.
MYRRHINA. Did he heal them?
SECOND MAN. No. They had committed some sin: it was for that reason they were lepers. Their hands and faces were like salt. One of them wore a mask of linen. He was a king's son.
MYRRHINA. What is the voice that speaks to him at night time in his cave?
FIRST MAN. We do not know whose voice it is. We think it is the voice of his G.o.d. For we have seen no man enter his cavern nor any come forth from it.
MYRRHINA. Honorius.
HONORIUS (from within). Who calls Honorius?
MYRRHINA. Come forth, Honorius.
My chamber is ceiled with cedar and odorous with myrrh. The pillars of my bed are of cedar and the hangings are of purple. My bed is strewn with purple and the steps are of silver. The hangings are sewn with silver pomegranates and the steps that are of silver are strewn with saffron and with myrrh. My lovers hang garlands round the pillars of my house. At night time they come with the flute players and the players of the harp. They woo me with apples and on the pavement of my courtyard they write my name in wine.
From the uttermost parts of the world my lovers come to me. The kings of the earth come to me and bring me presents.
When the Emperor of Byzantium heard of me he left his porphyry chamber and set sail in his galleys. His slaves bare no torches that none might know of his coming. When the King of Cyprus heard of me he sent me amba.s.sadors. The two Kings of Libya who are brothers brought me gifts of amber.
I took the minion of Caesar from Caesar and made him my playfellow. He came to me at night in a litter. He was pale as a narcissus, and his body was like honey.
The son of the Praefect slew himself in my honour, and the Tetrarch of Cilicia scourged himself for my pleasure before my slaves.
The King of Hierapolis who is a priest and a robber set carpets for me to walk on.
Sometimes I sit in the circus and the gladiators fight beneath me. Once a Thracian who was my lover was caught in the net. I gave the signal for him to die and the whole theatre applauded. Sometimes I pa.s.s through the gymnasium and watch the young men wrestling or in the race. Their bodies are bright with oil and their brows are wreathed with willow sprays and with myrtle. They stamp their feet on the sand when they wrestle and when they run the sand follows them like a little cloud. He at whom I smile leaves his companions and follows me to my home. At other times I go down to the harbour and watch the merchants unloading their vessels.
Those that come from Tyre have cloaks of silk and earrings of emerald.
Those that come from Ma.s.silia have cloaks of fine wool and earrings of bra.s.s. When they see me coming they stand on the prows of their s.h.i.+ps and call to me, but I do not answer them. I go to the little taverns where the sailors lie all day long drinking black wine and playing with dice and I sit down with them.
I made the Prince my slave, and his slave who was a Tyrian I made my Lord for the s.p.a.ce of a moon.
I put a figured ring on his finger and brought him to my house. I have wonderful things in my house.
The dust of the desert lies on your hair and your feet are scratched with thorns and your body is scorched by the sun. Come with me, Honorius, and I will clothe you in a tunic of silk. I will smear your body with myrrh and pour spikenard on your hair. I will clothe you in hyacinth and put honey in your mouth. Love--
HONORIUS. There is no love but the love of G.o.d.