Гюстав Флобер - The Temptation of St. Antony

Antony gazes at them, in spite of himself.

"All the women you ever have met, from the daughter of the cross–roads singing beneath her lantern to the fair patrician scattering leaves from the top of her litter, all the forms you have caught a glimpse of, all the imaginings of your desire, ask for them! I am not a woman—I am a world. My garments have but to fall, and you shall discover upon my person a succession of mysteries."

Antony's teeth chattered.

"If you placed your finger on my shoulder, it would be like a stream of fire in your veins. The possession of the least part of my body will fill you with a joy more vehement than the conquest of an empire. Bring your lips near! My kisses have the taste of fruit which would melt in your heart. Ah! how you will lose yourself in my tresses, caress my breasts, marvel at my limbs, and be scorched by my eyes, between my arms, in a whirlwind―"

Antony makes the sign of the Cross.

"So, then, you disdain me! Farewell!"

She turns away weeping; then she returns.

"Are you quite sure? So lovely a woman?"

She laughs, and the ape who holds the end of her robe lifts it up.

"You will repent, my fine hermit! you will groan; you will be sick of life! but I will mock at you! la! la! la! oh! oh! oh!"

She goes off with her hands on her waist, skipping on one foot.

The slaves file off before Saint Antony's face, together with the horses, the dromedaries, the elephant, the attendants, the mules, once more covered with their loads, the negro boys, the ape, and the green–clad couriers holding their broken lilies in their hands—and the Queen of Sheba departs, with a spasmodic utterance which might be either a sob or a chuckle.

When she has disappeared, Antony perceives a child on the threshold of his cell.

"It is one of the Queen's servants," he thinks.

This child is small, like a dwarf, and yet thickset, like one of the Cabiri, distorted, and with a miserable aspect. White hair covers his prodigiously large head, and he shivers under a sorry tunic, while he grasps in his hand a roll of papyrus. The light of the moon, across which a cloud is passing, falls upon him.

Antony observes him from a distance, and is afraid of him.

"Who are you?"

The child replies:

"Your former disciple, Hilarion."

Antony —"You lie! Hilarion has been living for many years in Palestine."

Hilarion —"I have returned from it! It is I, in good sooth!"

Antony , draws closer and inspects him—"Why, his figure was bright as the dawn, open, joyous. This one is quite sombre, and has an aged look."

Hilarion —"I am worn out with constant toiling."

Antony —"The voice, too, is different. It has a tone that chills you."

Hilarion —"That is because I nourish myself on bitter fare."

Antony —"And those white locks?"

Hilarion —"I have had so many griefs."

Antony , aside—"Can it be possible? … "

Hilarion —"I was not so far away as you imagined. The hermit, Paul, paid you a visit this year during the month of Schebar. It is just twenty days since the nomads brought you bread. You told a sailor the day before yesterday to send you three bodkins."

Antony —"He knows everything!"

Hilarion —"Learn, too, that I have never left you. But you spend long intervals without perceiving me."

Antony —"How is that? No doubt my head is troubled! To–night especially … "

Hilarion —"All the deadly sins have arrived. But their miserable snares are of no avail against a saint like you!"

Antony —"Oh! no! no! Every minute I give way! Would that I were one of those whose souls are always intrepid and their minds firm—like the great Athanasius, for example!"

Hilarion —"He was unlawfully ordained by seven bishops!"

Antony —"What does it matter? If his virtue … "

Hilarion —"Come, now! A haughty, cruel man, always mixed up in intrigues, and finally exiled for being a monopolist."

Antony —"Calumny!"

Hilarion —"You will not deny that he tried to corrupt Eustatius, the treasurer of the bounties?"

Antony —"So it is stated, and I admit it."

Hilarion —"He burned, for revenge, the house of Arsenius."

Antony —"Alas!"

Hilarion —"At the Council of Nicæa, he said, speaking of Jesus, 'The man of the Lord.'"

Antony —"Ah! that is a blasphemy!"

Hilarion —"So limited is he, too, that he acknowledges he knows nothing as to the nature of the Word."

Antony , smiling with pleasure—"In fact, he has not a very lofty intellect."

Hilarion —"If they had put you in his place, it would have been a great satisfaction for your brethren, as well as yourself. This life, apart from others, is a bad thing."

Antony —"On the contrary! Man, being a spirit, should withdraw himself from perishable things. All action degrades him. I would like not to cling to the earth—even with the soles of my feet."

Hilarion —"Hypocrite! who plunges himself into solitude to free himself the better from the outbreaks of his lusts! You deprive yourself of meat, of wine, of stoves, of slaves, and of honours; but how you let your imagination offer you banquets, perfumes, naked women, and applauding crowds! Your chastity is but a more subtle kind of corruption, and your contempt for the world is but the impotence of your hatred against it! This is the reason that persons like you are so lugubrious, or perhaps it is because they lack faith. The possession of the truth gives joy. Was Jesus sad? He used to go about surrounded by friends; He rested under the shade of the olive, entered the house of the publican, multiplied the cups, pardoned the fallen woman, healing all sorrows. As for you, you have no pity, save for your own wretchedness. You are so much swayed by a kind of remorse, and by a ferocious insanity, that you would repel the caress of a dog or the smile of a child."

Antony , bursts out sobbing—"Enough! Enough! You move my heart too much."

Hilarion —"Shake off the vermin from your rags! Get rid of your filth! Your God is not a Moloch who requires flesh as a sacrifice!"

Antony —"Still, suffering is blessed. The cherubim bend down to receive the blood of confessors."

Hilarion —"Then admire the Montanists! They surpass all the rest."

Antony —"But it is the truth of the doctrine that makes the martyr."

Hilarion —"How can he prove its excellence, seeing that he testifies equally on behalf of error?"

Antony —"Be silent, viper!"

Hilarion —"It is not perhaps so difficult. The exhortations of friends, the pleasure of outraging popular feeling, the oath they take, a certain giddy excitement—a thousand things, in fact, go to help them."

Antony draws away from Hilarion. Hilarion follows him—"Besides, this style of dying introduces great disorders. Dionysius, Cyprian, and Gregory avoided it. Peter of Alexandria has disapproved of it; and the Council of Elvira … "

Antony , stops his ears—"I will listen to no more!"

Hilarion , raising his voice—"Here you are again falling into your habitual sin—laziness. Ignorance is the froth of pride. You say, 'My conviction is formed; why discuss the matter?' and you despise the doctors, the philosophers, tradition, and even the text of the law, of which you know nothing. Do you think you hold wisdom in your hand?"

Antony —"I am always hearing him! His noisy words fill my head."