第 30 节
作者:吻火      更新:2021-02-27 00:38      字数:9315
  should   thus   return;   it   became   evident   to   him   that   these   things   had   an
  imperishable soul; and he cried
  〃Lo; all the countless souls of the sins of Thais come upon me!〃
  When he turned away his head; he felt that Thais was behind him; and
  that made him feel still more uneasy。 His torture was cruel。 But as his soul
  and body remained pure in the midst of all his temptations; he trusted in
  God; and gently complained to Him。
  〃My God; if I went so far to seek her amongst the Gentiles; it was for
  Thy sake; and not for mine。 It would not be just that I should suffer for
  what I have done in Thy behalf。 Protect me; sweet Jesus! My Saviour; save
  me! Suffer not the phantom to accomplish that which the body could not。
  As I have triumphed over the flesh; suffer not the shadow to overthrow me。
  I know that I am now exposed to greater dangers than I ever ran。 I feel and
  know that the dream has more power than the reality。 And how could it be
  otherwise;   since   it   is   itself   but   a   higher   reality?   It   is   the   soul   of   things。
  Plato; though he was but an idolater; has testified to the real existence of
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  ideas。 At that banquet of demons to which Thou accompaniedst me; Lord;
  I   heard   men     sullied   with   crimes    truly;  but   certainly   not   devoid    of
  intelligence   agree   to   acknowledge   that   we   see   real   objects   in   solitude;
  meditation; and ecstasy; and Thy Scriptures; my God; many times affirm
  the   virtue   of   dreams;   and   the   power   of   visions   formed   either   by   Thee;
  great God; or by Thy adversary。〃
  There was a new man in him and now he reasoned with God; but God
  did not choose to enlighten him。 His nights were one long dream; and his
  days did not differ from his nights。 One morning he awoke uttering sighs;
  such   as   issue;   by   moonlight;   from   the   tombs   of   the   victims   of   crimes。
  Thais had come; showing her bleeding feet; and whilst he wept; she had
  slipped into his couch。 There was no longer any doubt; the image of Thais
  was an impure image。
  His heart filled with disgust; he leaped out of his profaned couch; and
  hid   his   face   in   his   hands   that   he   might   not   see   the   daylight。   The   hours
  passed; but they did not remove his shame。 All was quiet in the cell。 For
  the first time for many long days; Paphnutius was alone。 The phantom had
  at last left him; and even its absence seemed dreadful。 Nothing; nothing to
  distract   his   mind   from   the   recollection   of   the   dream。   Full   of   horror;   he
  thought
  〃Why did I not drive her away? Why did I not tear myself from her
  cold arms and burning knees?〃
  He no longer dared to pronounce the name of God near that horrible
  couch; and he feared that his cell being profaned; the demons might freely
  enter at any hour。 His fears did not deceive him。 The seven little jackals;
  which had never crossed the threshold; entered in a file; and went and hid
  under   the   bed。   At   the   vesper   hour;   there   came   an   eighth;   the   stench   of
  which was horrible。 The next day; a ninth joined the others; and soon there
  were     thirty;  then    sixty;   then   eighty。   They     became     smaller     as  they
  multiplied; and being no bigger than rats; they covered the floor; the couch;
  and the stool。 One of them jumped on the little table by the side of the bed;
  and standing with its four feet together on the death's head; looked at the
  monk with burning eyes。 And every day fresh jackals came。
  To   expiate   the   abominable   sin   of   his   dream;   and   flee   from   impure
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  thoughts; Paphnutius determined to leave his cell; which had now become
  polluted; go far into the desert; and practise unheard…of austerities; strange
  labours; and fresh works of grace。 But before putting his design into action;
  he went to see old Palemon and ask his advice。
  He found him in his garden watering his lettuces。 It was the evening。
  The   blue   Nile   flowed   at   the   foot   of   violet   hills。 The   good   old   man   was
  walking slowly; in order not to frighten a pigeon that had perched on his
  shoulder。
  〃The   Lord   be   with   thee;   brother   Paphnutius;〃   he   said。   〃Admire   his
  goodness;      He    sends   me    the  animals     that  He   has   created    that  I  may
  converse with them of His works; and praise Him in the birds of the air。
  Look at this pigeon; note the changing hues of its neck; and say; is it not a
  beautiful work of God? But have you not come to talk with me; brother;
  on some pious subject? If so; I will put down my watering…pot; and listen
  to you。〃
  Paphnutius told the old man about his journey; his return; the visions
  of his days and the dreams of his nights;without omitting the sinful one
  and the pack of jackals。
  〃Do you not think; father;〃 he added; 〃that I ought to bury myself in
  the   desert;   and   perform   some   extraordinary   austerities   that   would   even
  astonish the devil?〃
  〃I   am   but   a   poor   sinner;〃   replied   Palemon;   〃and   I   know   little   about
  men;  having   passed   all   my  life   in this   garden;   with   gazelles;   little   hares
  and pigeons。 But it seems to me; brother; that your distemper comes from
  your   having   passed   too   suddenly   from   the   noisy   world   to   the   calm   of
  solitude。 Such sudden transitions can but do harm to the health of the soul。
  You are; brother; like a man who exposes himself; almost at the same time;
  to great heat and great cold。 A cough shakes him; and fever torments him。
  In   your   place;   brother   Paphnutius;   instead   of   retiring   at   once   into   some
  awful desert; I should take such amusements as are fitting to a monk and a
  holy abbot。 I should visit the monasteries in the neighbourhood。 Some of
  them   are   wonderful;   it   is   said。   That   of Abbot   Serapion   contains;   I   have
  been told; a thousand four hundred and thirty…two cells; and the monks are
  divided into as many legions as there are letters in the Greek alphabet。 I
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  am even informed that a certain analogy is observed between the character
  of the monks and the shape of the letter by which they are designated; and
  that; for example; those who are placed under Z have a tortuous character;
  whilst those under I have an upright mind。 If I were you; brother; I should
  go and assure myself of this with my own eyes; and I should know no rest
  until   I   had   seen   such   a   wonderful   thing。   I   should   not   fail   to   study   the
  regulations      of  the   various    communities        which    are   scattered    along    the
  banks   of   the   Nile;   so   as   to   be   able   to   compare   one   with   another。   Such
  study   is   befitting   a   religious   man   like   yourself。 You   have   heard   say;   no
  doubt;     that   Abbot      Ephrem      has    drawn     up   for   his   monastery       pious
  regulations of great beauty。 With his permission; you might make a copy
  of   them;   as   you   are   a   skilful   penman。   I   could   not   do   so;   for   my   hands;
  accustomed to wield the spade; are too awkward to direct the thin reed of
  the scribe over the papyrus。 But you have the knowledge of letters; brother;
  and   should   thank   God   for   it;   for   beautiful   writing   cannot   be   too   much
  admired。   The   work   of   the   copyist   and   the   reader   is   a   great   safeguard
  against evil thoughts。  Brother  Paphnutius;  why  do   you   not   write  out   the
  teachings   of   our   fathers;   Paul   and   Anthony?   Little   by   little   you   would
  recover;   in   these   pious   works;   peace   of   soul   and   mind;   solitude   would
  again become pleasant to your heart; and soon you would be in a condition
  to   recommence   those   ascetic   works   which   your   journey   has   interrupted。
  But you must not expect much benefit from excessive penitence。 When he
  was     amongst     us;   our   Father    Anthony      used    to  say;   'Excessive     fasting
  produces weakness; and weakness begets idleness。 There are some monks
  who ruin their body by fasts improperly prolonged。 Of them it may be said
  that they plunge a dagger into their own breast; and deliver themselves up
  unresistingly into the power of the devil。' So said the holy man; Anthony。 I
  am but a foolish old man; but; by the grace of God; I have remembered
  what our father told us。〃