The Temptation of St. Anthony

"Where is my temple? Where are my Amazons?

"What is this I feel? – I, the Incorruptible! – a strange faintness comes upon me!"…

(Her flowers wither, her over-ripe fruits become detached and fall. The lions and the bulls hang their heads; the deer foam at the mouth, with a slimy foam, as though exhausted; the buzzing bees die upon the ground.

She presses her breasts, one after the other. All are empty! But under a desperate effort her sheath bursts. She seizes it by the bottom, like the skirt of a robe, throws her animals, her fruits, her flowers, into it, – then withdraws into the darkness.

And afar off there are voices, murmuring, growling, roaring, bellowing, belling. The density of the night is augmented by breaths. Drops of warm rain fall.)

Anthony. "How sweet the odour of the palm trees, the trembling of leaves, the transparency of springs! I feel the desire to lie flat upon the Earth that I might feel her against my heart; and my life would be reinvigorated by her eternal youth!"

(He hears the sound of castanets and of cymbals; and men appear, clad in white tunics with red stripes, – leading through the midst of a rustic crowd an ass, richly harnessed, its tail decorated with knots of ribbons, and its hoofs painted.

A box, covered with a saddle-cloth ²² of yellow material shakes to and fro upon its back, between two baskets, – one receives the offerings contributed, – eggs, grapes, pears, cheeses, fowls, little coins; and the other basket is full of roses, which the leaders of the ass pluck to pieces as they walk before the animal, shedding the leaves upon the ground.

They wear earrings and large mantles; their locks are plaited, their cheeks painted, olive-wreaths are fastened upon their foreheads by medallions bearing figurines; – all wear poniards in their belts, and brandish ebony-handled whips, having three thongs to which osselets are attached. ²³

Those who form the rear of the procession, place upon the soil, – so as to remain upright as a candelabrum, – a tall pine, which burns at its summit, and shades under its lower branches a lamb.

The ass halts. The saddle-cloth is removed. Underneath appears a second covering of black felt. Then one of the men in white tunics begins to dance, rattling his crotali; – another, kneeling before the box, beats a tambourine and– )

The Oldest of the Band, begins: —

"Here is the Good Goddess, the Idæan of the mountains, the Great Mother of Syria! Come ye hither, good people all!

"She gives joy to men, she heals the sick; she sends inheritances; she satisfies the hunger of love!

"We bear her through the land, rain or shine, in fair weather, or in foul.

"Oft times we lie in the open air, and our table is not always well served. Robbers dwell in the woods. Wild beasts rush from their caverns. Slippery paths border the precipices. Behold her! behold her!"

(They lift off the covering; and a box is seen, inlaid with little pebbles.)

"Loftier than the cedars, she looks down from the blue ether. Vaster than the wind she encircles the world. Her breath is exhaled by the nostrils of tigers; the rumbling of her voice is heard beneath the volcanoes; her wrath is the tempest; the pallor of her face has whitened the moon. She ripens the harvest; by her the tree-bark swells with sap; she makes the beard to grow. Give her something; for she hates the avaricious!"

(The box opens; and under a little pavilion of blue silk appears a small image of Cybele – glittering with spangles, crowned with towers, and seated in a chariot of red stone, drawn by two lions, with uplifted paws.

The crowd presses forward to see.)

THE ARCHIGALLUS (continues):

"She loves the sound of resounding tympanums, the echo of dancing feet, the howling of wolves, the sonorous mountains and the deep gorges, the flower of the almond tree, the pomegranate and the green fig, the whirling dance, the snoring flute, the sugary sap, the salty tear, – blood! To thee, to thee! – Mother of the mountains!"

(They scourge themselves with their whips; and their chests resound with the blows; – the skins of the tambourines vibrate almost to bursting. They seize their knives; they gash their arms.)

"She is sorrowful; let us be sorrowful! Thereby your sins will be remitted. Blood purifies all – fling its red drops abroad like blossoms! She, the Great Mother, demands the blood of another creature – of a pure being!"

(The Archigallus raises his knife above the head of a lamb.)

Anthony (seized with horror):

"Do not slay the lamb!"

(There is a gush of purple blood. The priest sprinkles the crowd with it; and all – including Anthony and Hilarion – standing around the burning tree, silently watch the last palpitations of the victim.

A Woman comes forth from the midst of the priests; she resembles exactly the image within the little box.

She pauses, perceiving before her a Young Man wearing a Phrygian cap. His thighs are covered with a pair of narrow trousers, with lozenge-shaped openings here and there at regular intervals, closed by bow knots of coloured material. He stands in an attitude of languor, resting his elbow against a branch of the tree, holding a flute in his hand.)

Cybele (flinging her arms about his waist).

"I have traversed all regions of the earth to join thee – and famine ravaged the fields Thou hast deceived me! It matters not! I love thee! Warm my body in thine embrace! Let us be united!"

Atys. "The springtime will never again return, O eternal Mother! Despite my love, it is no longer possible for me to penetrate thy essence! Would that I might cover myself with a painted robe like thine! I envy thy breasts, swelling with milk, the length of thy tresses, thy vast flanks that have borne and brought forth all creatures! Why am I not thou? – Why am I not a woman? – No, never! depart from me! My virility fills me with horror!"

(With a sharp stone he dismembers himself, and runs furiously from her …

The priests imitate the god; the faithful do even as the priests. Men and women exchange garments, embrace; – and the tumult of bleeding flesh passes away, while the sound of voices remaining, becomes even more strident, – like the shrieking of mourners, like the voices heard at funerals.

… A huge catafalque, hung with purple, supports upon its summit an ebony bed, surrounded by torches and baskets of silver filagree, in which are verdant leaves of lettuce, mallow and fennel. Upon the steps of the construction, from summit to base, sit women all clad in black, with loosened girdles and bare feet, holding in their hands with a melancholy air, great bouquets of flowers.

At each corner of the estrade urns of alabaster, filled with myrrh, slowly send up their smoke.

Upon the bed can be perceived the corpse of a man. Blood flows from his thigh. One of his arms hangs down lifelessly; – and a dog licks his finger nails and howls.

The row of torches placed closely together, prevents his face from being seen; and Anthony feels a strange anguish within him. He fears lest he should recognize some one.

The sobs of the women cease – and after an interval of silence,)

All (psalmody together):

"Fair! fair! – all fair he is! Thou hast slept enough! – lift thy head! – arise!

"Inhale the perfume of our flowers – narcissus – blossoms and anemones, gathered in thine own gardens to please thee. Arouse thee! thou dost make us fear for thee!

"Speak to us! What dost thou desire? Wilt thou drink wine? – wilt thou lie in our beds? – dost wish to eat the honeycakes which have the form of little birds?

"Let us press his lips, – kiss his breast! Now! – now! – dost thou not feel our ring-laden fingers passing over thy body? – and our lips that seek thy mouth? – and our tresses that sweep thy thighs? O faint God, deaf to our prayers!"

(They cry aloud, and rend their faces with their nails; then all rush, – and the howling of the dog continues in the silence.)

"Alas! alas! Woe! – the black blood trickles over his snowy flesh! See! his knees writhe! – his sides sink in! The bloom of his face hath dampened the purple. He is dead, dead! O weep for him! Lament for him!"

(In long procession they ascend to lay between the torches the offerings of their several tresses, that seem from afar off like serpents, black or blond; – and the catafalque is lowered gently to the level of, a grotto, – the opening of a shadowy sepulchre that yawns behind it.

Then– )

A Woman (bends over the corpse. Her long hair, uncut, envelopes her from head to feet. She sheds tears so abundantly that her grief cannot be as that of the others, but more than hit man – infinite!

Anthony dreams of the Mother of Jesus. She speaks: – )

"Thou didst emerge from the Orient, and didst take me, all trembling with the dew, into thy arms, O Sun! Doves fluttered upon the azure of thy mantle; our kisses evoked low breezes among the foliage; and I abandoned myself wholly to thy love, delighting in the pleasure of my weakness.

"Alas! alas – Why didst thou depart, to run upon the mountains! A boar did wound thee at the time of the autumnal equinox!

"Thou art dead; and the fountains weep, – the trees bend down. The wind of winter whistles through the naked brushwood.

"My eyes are about to close, seeing that darkness covers them! Now thou dwellest in the underworld near the mightiest of my rivals.

"O Persephone, all that is beautiful descends to thee, never to return!"

(Even while she speaks, her companions lift the dead, to place him within the sepulchre. He remains in their hands! It was only a waxen corpse.

Wherefore Anthony feels something resembling relief.

All vanish; – and the hut, the rocks, and the cross reappear.

But upon the other side of the Nile, Anthony beholds a Woman, standing in the midst of the desert.

She retains in her hand the lower part of a long black veil that hides all her face; supporting with her left arm a little child to whom she is giving suck. A great ape crouches down in the sand beside her.

She uplifts her head toward heaven; and in spite of the great distance, her voice is distinctly heard:)

Isis. "O Neith, Beginning of all things! Ammon, Lord of Eternity; Pthah, demiurgos; Thoth, his intelligence; gods of the Amenthi, particular triads of the Nomes, – falcons in the azure of heaven, sphinxes before the temples, ibises perched between the horns of oxen, planets, constellations, shore, murmurs of the wind, gleams of the light, – tell me where I may find Osiris.

"I have sought him in all the canals and all the lakes – aye, further yet, even to Phœnician Byblos. Anubis, with ears pricked up, leaped about me, and yelped, and thrust his muzzle searchingly into the tufts of the tamarinds.

"Thanks, good Cynocephalos – thanks to thee!"

(She gives the ape two or three friendly little taps upon the head.)

"Hideous Typhon, the red-haired slew him, tore him in pieces! We have found all his members. But I have not that which rendered me fecund!"

(She utters wild lamentations.)

Anthony (is filled with fury. He casts stones at her, reviles her.)

"Begone! thou shameless one! – Begone!"

Hilarion. "Nay! respect her! Her religion was the faith of thy fathers! – thou didst wear her amulets when thou wert a child in the cradle!"

Isis. "In the summers of long ago, the inundation drove the impure beasts into the desert. The dykes were opened, the boats dashed against each other; the panting earth drank the river with the intoxication of joy. Then, O God, with the horns of the bull, thou didst lie upon my breast, and then was heard, the lowings of the Eternal Cow!

"The seasons of sowing and reaping, of threshing and of vintage, followed each other in regular order with the years. In the eternal purity of the nights, broad stars beamed and glowed. The days were bathed in never-varying splendour. Like a royal couple the Sun and the Moon appeared simultaneously, at either end of the horizon.

"Then did we both reign above a sublimer world, twin-monarchs, wedded within, the womb of eternity – he bearing a concupha-headed sceptre; I, the sceptre that is tipped with a lotus-flower; both of us erect with hands joined; and the crumblings of empires affected not our attitude.

"Egypt extended, below us, monumental and awful, long-shaped like the corridor of a temple; with obelisks on the right, pyramids on the left, and its labyrinth in the midst. And everywhere were avenues of monsters, forests of columns, massive pylons flanking gates summit-crowned with the mysterious globe – the globe of the world, between two wings.

"The animals of her Zodiac also existed in her pasture lands; and filled her mysterious writing with their forms and colours. Divided into twelve regions as the year is divided into-twelve months – each month, each day also having its own god – she reproduced the immutable order of heaven. And man even in dying changed not his face; but saturated with perfumes, invulnerable to decay, he lay down to sleep for three thousand years in another and silent Egypt.

"And that Egypt, vaster than the Egypt of the living, extended beneath the earth.

"Thither one descended by dark stairways leading into halls where were represented the joys of the good, the tortures of the wicked, all that passes in the third and invisible world. Ranged along the wall the dead in their painted coffins awaited their turn; and the soul, exempted from migrations, continued its heavy slumber until the awakening into a new life.

"Nevertheless, Osiris sometimes came to see me. And by his ghost I became the mother of Harpocrates."

(She contemplates the child.)

"Aye! it is he. Those are his eyes; those are his locks, plaited into ram horns! Thou shalt recommence his works. We shall bloom again like the lotus. I am still the Great Isis! – none has yet lifted my veil! My fruit is the Sun!

"Sim of Springtime, clouds now obscure thy face! The breath of Typhon devours the pyramids. But a little while ago I beheld the Sphinx flee away. He was galloping like a jackal.

"I look for my priests, – my priests clad in mantles of linen, with their great harps, and bearing a mysterious bark, adorned with silver pateras. There are no more festivals upon the lakes! – no more illuminations in my delta! – no more cups of milk at Philæ! Apis has long ceased to reappear.

"Egypt! Egypt! thy great motionless gods have their shoulders already whitened by the dung of birds; and the wind that passes over the desert rolls with it and the ashes of thy dead! – Anubis, guardian of ghosts, abandon me not!"

(The Cynocephalos has vanished. She shakes her child.)

"But … what ails thee … thy hands are cold, thy head droops!"

(Harpocrates expires. Then she cries aloud with a cry so piercing, funereal, heart-rending, that Anthony answers it with another cry, extending his arms as to support her.

She is no longer there. He lowers his face, overwhelmed by shame.

All that he has seen becomes confused within his mind. It is like the bewilderment of travel, the illness of drunkenness. He wishes to hate; but a vague and vast pity fills his heart. He begins to weep, and weeps abundantly.)

Hilarion. "What makes thee sorrowful?"

Anthony (after having long sought within himself for a reply):

"I think of all the souls that have been lost through these false gods!"

Hilarion. "Dost thou not think that they … sometimes … bear much resemblance to the True?"

Anthony. "That is but a device of the Devil to seduce the faithful more easily. He attacks the strong through the mind, the weak through the flesh."

Hilarion. "But luxury, in its greatest fury, has all the disinterestedness of penitence. The frenzied love of the body accelerates the destruction thereof, – and proclaims the extent of the impossible by the exposition of the body's weakness."

Anthony. "What signifies that to me! My heart sickens with disgust of these beautiful bestial gods, forever busied with carnages and incests!"

Hilarion. "Yet recollect all those things in the Scripture which scandalize thee because thou art unable to comprehend them! So also may these Gods conceal under their sinful forms some mighty truth. There are more of them yet to be seen. Look around!"

Anthony. "No, no! – it is dangerous!"

Hilarion. "But a little while ago thou didst desire to know them! Is it because thy faith might vacillate in the presence of lies? What fearest thou?"

(The rocks fronting Anthony have become as a mountain. A line of clouds obscures the mountain half way between summit and base; and above the clouds appears another mountain, enormous, all green, unequally hollowed by valleys nestling in its slopes, and supporting at its summit, in the midst of laurel-groves a palace of bronze, roofed with tiles of gold, and supported by columns having capitals of ivory.

In the centre of the peristyle Jupiter, – colossal, with torso nude, – holds Victory in one hand, his thunderbolts in the other; and his eagle, perched between his feet, rears its head.

Juno, seated near him, rolls her large eyes, beneath a diadem whence her wind-blown veil escapes like a vapour.

Behind them, Minerva, standing upon a pedestal, leans on her spear. The skin of the Gorgon covers her breast, and a linen peplos falls in regular folds to the nails of her toes. Tier glaucous eyes, which gleam beneath her vizor, gaze afar off, attentively.

On the right of the palace, the aged Neptune bestrides a dolphin beating with its fins a vast azure expanse which may be sea or sky, for the perspective of the Ocean seems a continuation of the blue ether: the two elements are interblended.

On the other side weird Pluto in night-black mantle, crowned with diamond tiara and bearing a sceptre of ebony, sits in the midst of an islet surrounded by the circumvolutions of the Styx; – and this river of shadow empties itself into the darknesses, which form a vast black gulf below the cliff, – a bottomless abyss!

Mars, clad in brass, brandishes as in wrath his broad shield and his sword.

Hercules, leaning upon his club, gazes at him from below.

Apollo, his face ablaze with light, grasps with outstretched right arm the reins of four white horses urged to a gallop; and Ceres in her ox-drawn chariot advances toward him with a sickle in her hand.

Behind her comes Bacchus, riding in a very low chariot, gently drawn by lynxes. Plump and beardless, with vine leaves garlanding his brow, he passes by holding in his hand an overflowing cup of wine. Silenus riding beside him reels upon his ass. Pan of the pointed ears, blows upon his syrinx; the Mimalonæides beat drums; the Mænads strew flowers; the Bacchantes turn in the dance with heads thrown back and hair dishevelled.

Diana, with tunic tucked up, issues from the wood together with her nymphs.

At the further end of a cavern, Vulcan among his Cabiri, hammers the heated iron; here and there the aged Rivers leaning recumbent upon green rocks pour water from their urns; the Muses stand singing in the valleys.

The Hours, all of equal stature, link hands; and Mercury poses obliquely upon a rainbow, with his caduceus, winged sandals, and winged petasus.

But at the summit of the stairway of the Gods, – among clouds soft as down, from whose turning volutes a rain of roses falls, – Venus Anadyomene stands gazing at herself in a mirror: – her eyes move languorously beneath their slumbrous lids.

She has masses of rich blond hair rolling down over her shoulders; her breasts are small; her waist is slender; her hips curve out like the sweeping curves of a lyre; her thighs are perfectly rounded; there are dimples about her knees; her feet are delicate: a butterfly hovers near her mouth. The splendour of her body makes a nacreous-tinted halo of bright light about her; while all the rest of Olympus is bathed in a pink dawn, rising gradually to the heights of the blue sky.)

Anthony. "Ah! my heart swells! A joy never known before thrills me to the depths of my soul! How beautiful, how beautiful it is!"

Hilarion. "They leaned from the heights of cloud to direct the way of swords; one used to meet them upon the high roads; men had them in their houses – and this familiarity divinized life.

"Life's aim was only to be free and beautiful. Nobility of attitude was facilitated by the looseness of garments. The voice of the orator, trained by the sea, rolled its sonorous waves against the porticoes of marble. The ephebus, anointed with oil, wrestled all naked in the full light of the sun. The holiest of actions was to expose perfection of forms to all.

"And these men respected wives, aged men, suppliants.

"Behind the temple of Hercules there was an altar erected to Pity.

"Victims were immolated with flowers wreathed about the fingers of the sacrificer. Even memory was exempted from thoughts of the rottenness of death. Nothing remained but a little pile of ashes. And the Soul, mingling with the boundless ether, rose up to God."

(Bending to whisper in Anthony's ear: – )

"And they still live! The Emperor Constantine adores Apollo. Thou wilt find the Trinity in Samothracian mysteries, – baptism in the religion of Isis, – redemption in the faith of Mithra, – a martyrdom of a God in the festivals of Bacchus. Prosperpine is the Virgin!.. Aristæus is Jesus!"

Anthony (remains awhile with downcast eyes, as if in deep thought; then suddenly repeats aloud the Symbol of Jerusalem, as he remembers it, uttering a long sigh between each phrase): —

"I believe in one only God, the Father, – and in one only Lord, Jesus Christ, – the first born son of God, who was incarnated and made man, – who was crucified, and buried, – who ascended into Heaven, – who will come to judge the living and the dead, – of whose Kingdom there shall be no end; – and in one Holy Spirit, – and in one baptism of repentance, – and in one Holy Catholic Church, – and in the resurrection of the flesh, – and in the life everlasting!"

(Immediately the cross becomes loftier and loftier; it pierces the clouds, and casts its shadow upon the heaven of the gods.

All grow pale; – Olympus shudders.

And at its base Anthony beholds vast bodies enchained, sustaining the rocks upon their shoulders, – giant figures half buried in the deeps of caverns. These are the Titans, the Giants, the Hecatonchires, the Cyclops.)

A Voice

(rises, indistinct and awful, like the far roar of leaves, like the voice of forests in time of tempest, Wee the mighty moaning of the wind among the precipices):

"We knew these things! – we knew them! There must come an end even for the Gods! Uranus was mutilated by Saturn, – Saturn by Jupiter. And Jupiter himself shall be annihilated. Each in his turn; – it is Destiny!"

(And little by little they sink into the mountain, and disappear.

Meanwhile the golden tiles of the palace rise and fly away.)

Jupiter (has descended from his throne. At his feet the thunderbolts lie, smoking like burning coals about to expire; – and the great eagle bends its neck to pick up its falling feathers):

"Then I am no longer the master of all things, – most holy, most mighty, god of the phatrias and Greek peoples, – ancestor of all the Kings, – Agamemnon of heaven.

"Eagle of apotheoses, what wind from Erebus has wafted thee to me? or, fleeing from the Campus Martins, dost thou bear me the soul of the last of the Emperors?

"I no longer desire to receive those of men. Let the Earth keep them; and let them move upon the level of its baseness. Their hearts are now the hearts of slaves; – they forget injuries, forget their ancestors, forget their oaths, – and everywhere the folly of crowds, the mediocrity of individuals, the hideousness of races, hold sway!"

(He pants with such violence that his sides seem ready to burst asunder; he clenches his hands. Weeping, Hebe offers him a cup. He seizes it.)

"No, no! So long as there shall be a brain enclosing a thought, in whatsoever part of the world; – so long as there shall exist a mind hating disorder, creating Law, – so long will the spirit of Jupiter live!"

(But the cup is empty. He turns its edge down over his thumbnail.)

"Not one drop left! When the ambrosia fails, the Immortals must indeed depart!"

(The cup drops from his hands; and he leans against a column, feeling himself about to die.)

Juno. "Thou shouldst not have had so many amours! Eagle, bull, swan, rain of gold, cloud and flame, thou didst assume all forms, – dissipate thy light in all elements, – lose thy hair upon all beds! This time the divorce is irrevocable; and our domination, our very existence, dissolved."

(She passes away in air.)

Minerva (has no longer her spear; and the ravens nesting among the sculptures of the friezes, wheel about her, peeking at her helmet.)

"Let me see whether my vessels cleave the bright sea, returning to my three ports, – let me discover why the fields are deserted, and learn what the daughters of Athens are now doing.

"In the month of Hecatombeon my whole people came to worship me, under the guidance of their magistrates and priests. Then, all in white robes and wearing chitons of gold, they advanced the long line of virgins bearing cups, baskets, parasols; then the three hundred sacrificial oxen, and the old men having green boughs, the soldiers with clashing of armour, the ephebi singing hymns, flute players, lyre players, rhapsodists, dancing women; – and lastly attached to the mast of a trireme mounted upon wheel, my great veil embroidered by virgins who had been nourished in a particular way for a whole year. And when it had been displayed in all the streets, in all the squares, and before the temples, in the midst of the ever-chanting procession, it was borne step by step up the hill of the Acropolis, grazed the Propylæa, and entered the Parthenon…

"But a strange feebleness comes upon me, – me the Industrious One! What! what! not one idea comes to me! Lo! I am trembling more than a woman!"

(She turns, beholds a ruin behind her, utters a cry, and stricken by a fallen fragment, falls backward upon the ground.)

Hercules (has flung away his lion-skin; and with feet firmly braced, back arched, teeth clenched, he exhausts himself in immeasurable efforts to bear up the mass of crumbling Olympus.)

"I vanquished the Cercopes, the Amazons, and the Centaurs. Many were the kings I slew. I broke the horn of the great river, Achelous. I cut the mountains asunder; I freed nations from slavery; and I peopled lands that were desolate. I travelled through the countries of Gaul; I traversed the deserts where thirst prevails. I defended the gods from their enemies; and I freed myself from Omphale. But the weight of Olympus is too great for me. My arms grow feebler: – I die!"

(He is crushed beneath the ruins.)

Pluto. "It is thy fault, Amphytrionad; – wherefore didst thou descend into my empire?

"The vulture that gnaws the entrails of Tityus lifted its head; – the lips of Tantalus were moistened; – the wheel of Ixion stopped.

"Meanwhile the Kæres extended their claws to snatch back the escaping ghosts; the Furies tore the serpents of their locks; and Cerberus fettered by thee with a chain, sounded the death rattle in his throat, and foamed at all his three mouths.

"Thou didst leave the gate ajar; others have come. The daylight of men has entered into Tartarus!"

(He sinks into the darkness.)

Neptune. "My trident can no longer call up the tempests. The monsters that terrified of old, lie rotting at the bottom of the sea.

"Amphitrite whose white feet tripped lightly over the foam, the green Nereids seen afar off in the horizon, the scaly Sirens who stopped the passing vessels to tell stories, and the ancient Tritons mightily blowing upon their shells, all have passed away. All is desolate and dead; the gaiety of the great Sea is no more!"

(He vanishes beneath the azure.)

Diana (clad in black and surrounded by her dogs, which have been changed into wolves).

"The freedom of the deep forests once intoxicated me; the odours of the wild beasts and the exhalations of the marshes made me as one drank with joy. But the women whose maternity I protected, now bring dead children into the world. The moon trembles with the incantations of witches. Desires of violence, of immensity, seize me, fill me! I wish to drink poisons, – to lose myself in vapours, in dreams…!"

(And a passing cloud carries her away.)

Mars (unhelmed and covered with blood).

"At first I fought alone; – singlehanded I would provoke a whole army by my insults, – caring nothing for countries or nations, demanding battle for the pleasure of carnage alone.

"Afterward I had comrades. They marched to the sound of flutes, in good order, with equal step, respiring above their bucklers, with plumes loftily nodding, lances oblique. Then on rushed to battle with mighty eagle cries. War was joyous as a banquet. Three hundred men strove against all Asia.

"But the Barbarians are returning; – by myriads they come, by millions! Ah! since numbers, and engines, and cunning are stronger than valour, it were better that I die the death of the brave!"

(He kills himself.)

Vulcan (sponging the sweat from his limbs):

"The world is growing cold. The source of heat must be nourished, the volcanoes and rivers of flowing metal underground. Strike harder! – with full swing of the arms, – with might and main!"

(The Cabiri wound themselves with their hammers, blind themselves with sparks, and groping, lose themselves in the darkness.)

Ceres (standing in her chariot, impelled by wheels having wings at their hubs):

"Stop! Stop! Ah! it was with good reason that the exclusion of strangers, atheists, Epicureans, and Christians was commended! Now the mystery of the basket has been unveiled; the sanctuary profaned: all is lost!"

(She descends a precipitous slope – shrieking, despairing, tearing her hair.)

"Ah! lies, lies! Daira has not been restored to me. The voice of brass calls me to the dead. This is another Tartarus, whence there is no return! Horror!"

(The abyss engulfs her.)

Bacchus (with a frenzied laugh).

"What matters it? The Archon's wife is my spouse! The law itself reels in drunkenness! To me the new song, the multiplied forms!

"The fire by which my mother was devoured, flows in my veins! Let it burn yet more fiercely, even though I perish!